The Unicorn's Tail (The Artifact Hunters) (2 page)

Chapter Two

Monday, 16
th
December

Amy needed a distraction and the crypt-like house was a perfect one. Eschewing the help of the busy servants, she rolled up her sleeves the next day to get stuck in to the task ahead. The only problem was deciding where to start. Being of a practical mind, she settled with the beginning of the day – the breakfast room. Or, as she soon christened it, the room where ginormous spiders hung out hoping to trap and eat unsuspecting people.

She wore a plain apron over her dress to protect her clothes and tucked her brunette hair under a scarf. The staff provided buckets of hot water, mops, and a broom. She meant business, but so did the spiders. There was one particular brute in a corner who laughed at the broom she wielded.

"Do you need assistance, Miss Hamilton?" A dark head popped around the door. Captain Hawke gave her his roguish smile and a wink.

"Amy, please. And yes, Captain Hawke. There is a spider here who is big enough to grab my broom and shoo me out with it."

He gave a warm laugh and walked toward her. "Call me Loki, we don't stand on formality around here."

"Oh, I couldn't be so informal as to use a nickname," she said. Especially not one that conjured mischief. "But I will call you Lachlan, if I may?"

"Whatever you call me, I will answer." He took the broom from her hands.

This time she managed to control the blush that threatened to bloom under his words.

"Where is this monster you need me to battle?"

She pointed at the spider defending his corner of the room. "There. Do be careful, he might be poisonous."

"He can't be any worse than the shark that once mistook me for breakfast." He waved the broom with a theatrical flourish while enthralling her with the story of his skirmish with a shark.

Their laughter attracted the henchman, Jackson. Amy fell silent and gave a shudder as his dark scowl moved from the captain to her. He shook his head at the pirate and disappeared. He reappeared several minutes later with his own broom, a mop, and a bucket.

She tried to ignore his brooding presence, while being quietly appreciative of his help. She wanted to do the work herself without adding to the burden of the domestics, but hadn't counted on the tenacity of the resident wildlife. He set to work clearing out the dust and spiders with quick efficient strokes, while Loki still battled the one spider.

Amy clapped her hands when the arachnid was finally dispatched and tossed out the French doors. In the time Loki took to defeat one spider, the other man had cleaned out the rest of the room.

"Thank you, gentlemen. I do appreciate your gallant efforts in removing the former residents."

Loki gave a lavish bow; Jackson nodded his head and left without a word. Alone once again, Amy regarded her clean slate and tried to imagine a light and beautiful room.

*

Night claimed the earth early as full winter approached. After dinner, the men retreated to their own lounge to indulge in the manly pursuits of games, drinking, and burping. Loki, Jackson, and two crewmen sat a table playing poker.

"I hear you won't be returning to London?" Loki asked as the dealer shuffled and dealt.

Jackson picked up his cards. "Staying here to handle the new setup and sort out the local trouble. Fella with the balls of a rhino and brain of a goldfish thinks he should have a cut of things."

Loki gave a snort. "Goldfish brain is being generous if he thinks he can insert himself into Nate's business. I'm surprised he hasn't ended up anchored in the cove yet." He took a swig of beer and stared at his hand. "So you won't be trailing behind Cara anymore?"

"Nope." A sly grin crossed his face. "Got someone sorted to take care of her."

Loki rearranged his cards and tossed a coin to the felt. "What do you think of our new resident?"

"I think if you crept up behind her and said c
ock
she'd pass out." Jackson plucked one card from amongst its fellows and threw it down. The dealer slid him a replacement.

Loki laughed. "She is rather delicately bred. I thought our Cara would have more earthy friends."

Jackson made a noise deep in his throat. "Not sure what her and dollface have in common." He scowled at his hand and added another coin to the pot.

The pirate ran a fingertip along the top of his cards. "Friendship among women is a mysterious and beautiful thing. Especially if they let you crawl up the middle."

Jackson tossed back his beer and threw his cards on the table. Loki laughed and laid down his winning hand.

"You're a cheating bastard, Loki," he said as the other man raked up the loose coins.

He swept his winnings off the side of the table, where they fell into his palm. "You're just a sore loser. Perhaps we should try something more your speed. Tiddlywinks?"

"I can take you in any game, so long as it's fair." He narrowed his gaze and placed his empty bottle down in front of him.

"Really? Anything?" The devil had the gleam in his black eyes, the one he got when he sensed a bigger prize within his reach.

Jackson told himself to shut up because flyboy was leading him into a trap, but the beer did the talking instead. "Name it."

"Since you're after a fair game, let's see who's first to win a kiss from our fair rose."

He gave a bark of laughter. Cunning bastard, as well as a cheat. "You'll be cheating for sure, then."

The pirate grinned and leaned back in his chair. "Giving up already? Prepared to admit I am far more handsome, gallant, and charming?"

He didn't know what made him say it. The girl was far too good for him, noble born and gentle bred. She cowered around him like a kicked dog, as though she expected him to turn on her and chew her foot off. "You're as charming as pig shit. I'm in. Loser gets feathered."

They each spat in their palm and shook on the deal.

Then Jackson took his leave for the night. Back in the quiet solitude of his room, he berated himself for being such an idiot. The girl was already eating out of Loki's hand; all he had to do was dangle the bait a little higher to receive his kiss and win the bet. He'd be covered in pine sap and feathers by the end of the week.

He paced his quarters and settled by the window to gaze over the back lawn. The overgrown maze rose up like a sea monster of strange lumps and shapes. about to attack the house. He’d answered Loki's challenge on impulse. A bet over a girl seemed harmless. Or had Helene's words compelled him to enter the game?

Five years ago, Lyons had asked him to check on the deteriorating health of the once-vibrant Countess de Sal. Then the regular visits became of his own accord, as he checked the old bird had a dry roof over her head and food in the pantry. He hated seeing women left to fend for themselves. The last time he saw her, she had a message for him. It rattled his cage that she saw through the veil, but if your dead wife had something to say, you better bloody listen. His angel told him to get his head out of his arse and live his life. Yeah, that sounded like Angelique. Never one to mince words. Said she and their babe would always be with him, but he needed to open his eyes and see the world around him, and that it was time to find another companion.

He shook his head. Not an easy thing to ask of a man. How do you move on from an angel and your babe? Why should he have a second chance, when there wasn't one for them?

It had been three long years since Angelique was taken from him. He was no monk; there was always a warm body to see to his physical needs, but he didn't let anyone close. He didn't need a woman in his life. Especially not some up herself blue blood.

If he was going to have any hope of beating Loki, he needed to figure out how the hell to attract the attention of a noble girl.

He walked to his dresser and picked up a sepia-coloured photograph of a smiling blonde woman holding a chubby toddler who refused to hold still for the photographer. The little one's arms were a blur of movement, forever waving. He stroked a thumb over the pair.

"What to do, Angel? Bastard pirate will cheat, and for once I want to see him lose." A kiss from the timid thing who would probably faint if he got too near. What the hell was he thinking? The girl was so different from his Angel. With her long brunette hair and serious eyes, she looked like a wet, lost kitten that needed drying off and someone to look after it. "The woman is a damn princess; probably believes in knights in armour and unicorns shitting rainbows."

A door banged down the hall and something rattled loose on his bookshelf. The object slid over a stack of books and dropped to the floor at his feet.

He glanced down, then picked up the dark circle and gave a laugh. "Unicorns it is then, Angel."

*

Tuesday, 17
th
December

Amy picked up the roll of wallpaper and unfurled a portion. "This will be perfect," she said, imaging the soft cream with bronze dragonflies all over the breakfast room. She spent all morning scrubbing down the walls, and set two of the men to remove the enormous table and take it out to have decades of dirty hands and encrusted egg sanded off. The golden wood underneath would be waxed and polished. The chairs sat in the kitchen awaiting their new coat of paint, and cushions to match the drapes.

A cough behind made the insects jump in her hand. Turning, she found Jackson standing in the doorway.

She gulped. "Yes?"

"I, um," he coughed again and one hand dipped in to his pocket. He withdrew a small bracelet as he stepped into the room. "I have a small gift, to welcome you to Lowestoft."

Amy narrowed her gaze at the trinket swinging from his large fingers: a slim band of plaited fibres bound in plain silver at each end. She moved closer, wondering what on earth he offered her and relieved he wasn't waving a dead animal. "It's horse hair."

He turned it to catch the light, and a silver flash raced over the plait. "It's strands taken from a unicorn's tail."

She scoffed.
Unicorns.
She wasn't a child to believe such tales. "There's no such thing." She thought the gesture rather sweet, in a creepy kind of way, and it could be worse. He might have offered a necklace made from the teeth of men he’d killed. She took a deep breath; perhaps she could be brave enough to take a tiny peek under that tough exterior. Since she was staying at the estate, she would see him on a regular basis. She held out her arm, hoping he wouldn't bite it off.

He raised his gaze to hers and gave a one-sided smile. "Know for sure unicorns don't exist, do you?" He undid the clasp and fastened it around her slim wrist. "Unicorns are powerful critters, known for granting wishes. Apparently there's enough magic in this bit of tail to grant just one. Your heart's desire, if you're brave enough to wish for it."

"Why would I need to be brave to make a wish?" She needed all her bravery to stand this close to the bodyguard. Now that she managed to actually look at him, she noticed he had a scar running in front of his ear, hidden by stubble. He didn't look that old, either; maybe only a couple of years older than Nathaniel's twenty-eight. He just seemed tired or weary of the world.

"Never heard the old saying ‘be careful what you wish for?’"

He gave a quick nod and retreated out the door, leaving her alone with dragonflies and unicorn tails.

Late that night, unable to sleep, she curled up in her window seat and watched the slumbering land. Shapes and figures cloaked in shades of black dotted the landscape. The moon emerged from behind a cloud and washed everything in silver. Off in the distance to the east, waves ambled toward shore, weaving an intricate pattern as light hit their tips.

One hand rested on her knee, and a shaft of moonlight caught the bracelet. White fire raced around the circlet, highlighting the silver fibres nestled among the black.

"Unicorn tail," she said as she traced the glowing threads with a fingertip. "Load of rubbish." Or was it? If it were true, what would be her heart's desire? She thought of Cara, so happy and relaxed with the man known as the ‘villainous viscount’. She wished she had a fraction of her friend's confidence, so at ease in her skin. And someone to look at her with the intensity she saw in Nathaniel's gaze.

"I want a man who would love me as I am," she whispered. "The real me, not the image in the mirror."

On her last syllable, the sky cleared and the moon shone with its full intensity. The bracelet on her wrist glowed, and Amy gasped. The strands from the mythical equine transformed to an object of silver and diamonds, luminous against the pitch black outside the window. Then the cloud dropped back in place, and the precious artifact turned back into horse hair.

If only she knew how to find the ‘real her’. She'd spent her whole life painting a shallow portrait, and burying her true self. How did she start to chip away the varnish to reveal what lay underneath?

Chapter Three

Wednesday, 19
th
December

Amy stood at the French doors, watching as the sun broke through the clouds and lit the frost and snow, making the landscape glow and allowing her to forget the house's hideous appearance.