Chapter 28

Hopson knocked discreetly on Lucius' study door. He knew it was Hopson by the lightness of the knock.

"What is it, Hopson?" Lucius asked, looking up from the documents he was reviewing.

The door cracked open and Hopson half appeared. "There is a visitor, a Miss Samra."

Leaning back, Lucius considered what he heard. Miss Samra here. For what possible reason? This was not a scheduled meeting time and Miss Samra never met outside it. Could she have information she wanted to share? He doubted it. The girl was resolutely against him, her distrust evident in her eyes, too wary to be charmed. It was tiresome really.

This was a development, and Lucius didn't always like unforeseen developments. But he conceded there could be opportunity in everything if approached right. "See her up."

"She is wet, sir."

"Wet?"

"Dripping."

Turning to the dark window, Lucius saw the distortion of water on the pane. She had walked here in the rain. He frowned.

"I will come down. Perhaps a towel, Hopson," Lucius said and rose, buttoning the waist coast and checking the clock on the wall. It was eleven in the evening, too late for either a business or social call. This did indicate that something about this was off.

His steps echoed off the marble as he walked down the hall, taking the large, sweeping staircase down to the main entrance. She stood there, her back to him, in slim dress made out of dark blue satin, with bare shoulders. Perhaps it was a lighter blue, but the water made it dark. It fit her perfectly, showing every feminine curve. He should see her shivering.

"Miss Samra," he said and she turned around. Her hair was wet and her mascara had run slightly.

She smiled, a sight he rarely saw. "I am sorry for the intrusion. I was out and it started raining." She didn't say anything more, her eyes following him as he took the last few steps down. Hopson appeared with a towel. Lucius took it and handed it to Miss Samra, whose fingers were cold to the touch.

"You must warm. Is the fire prepared in the parlor?" he asked Hopson.

"I believe so."

"Something warm then, tea perhaps."

Miss Samra had the towel clutched to her chest.

"Come," Lucius said, "we must warm you."

He urged her to move ahead of him and she did, half turning every few steps to ensure he was following.

In terms of negotiation tactics, this was unusual—to place oneself in such a position. Was it design to engage protective qualities in him? It would be a rare and strange tactic, and probably not planned by someone who knew him well.

"And where have you been tonight?" he asked, watching as she walked, seeing the water drip on the floor, leaving wet footprints. Black pumps showed off her calf muscles as she lifted the hem of her dress to walk up the stairs. She wasn't doing a terribly good job with the towel.

"The opera," she said, smiling again. She had a lovely smile, he had to concede, although he was still bemused about this whole scenario. "It was lovely—Puccini."

"Ah, Puccini is always nice," he said, too distracted trying to understand this turn of events to place any real thought to if there was meaning in this opera.

"Were you alone?"

"No, I was with … I lost him somewhere." She didn't elaborate further.

It was a date then, someone she didn't know well if she couldn't quite recall his name. He knew Miss Samra was single, but a young, attractive woman was bound to have gentlemen callers—one who apparently was willing to take her to the opera. Maybe an older gentleman caller then.

She stopped and he opened the door to the rarely used parlor. It was sumptuously decorated in red and dark wood, perhaps out of fashion with the current day trends, a throwback to a different era, one Lucius preferred to the stark, minimalist lines of current fashion.

"It would be best that you sit by the fire, Miss Samra."

She followed his direction and sat in the plushy arm chair, leaning over her legs, unwittingly showing him more of her cleavage, white small breasts. She was cold. Clasping her hands she tried to increase her circulation. A contented smile spread across her lips, which were now bare from whatever lipstick she'd worn this evening.

Hopson arrived with the tea service, placing it on a small table between the chairs. Lucius sat forward and poured a cup, handing it over to Miss Samra, whose hand made the cup rattle on its little plate.

"I am curious why you sought refuge here, Miss Samra," he said coolly.

She looked up, her eyes bright. "I just thought of you and knew you'd help me."

An absurd statement. Perhaps the girl had had a shock and lost her senses. "When you are done, I can have the car take you home."

"No," she said, half standing. The vehemence of her reaction surprised him. "No, I prefer to stay."

Absently, she placed the cup of tea untouched on the small table beside her, watching him intently.

"You should have your tea," he said and watched her as she picked it up again, putting her slim finger in the cup's ear and bringing it to her lips. She watched him the whole time and a spear of concern crawled up his spine.

"You can't stay here, Miss Samra."

"No, I must. I can't go home," she pleaded.

"And why not?"

"Because I must be with you."

Calmly, Lucius pressed his lips together. "Hopson," he called. It took a few moments for the manservant to appear.

"We must prepare a room for Miss Samra, I think. Somewhere with chains." He rose and Miss Samra followed suit. "No, you will stay here," he said firmly. She seemed to listen, tentatively taking her seat again, watching him like a hunting dog ready to take direction. "Hopson will take you to your room."

He heard a peep from her when he walked to the door. Awkwardly turning, he considered her, looking earnest and longingly at him. "I will see you later," he said and she looked assured.

"Chain her," he said quietly to Hopson and retreated back to his study.

The chair groaned when he sat back again. He cursed. Clearly his negotiating nemesis had been influenced by some form of magic—a spell or potion of some sort. Her obsession would only worsen and all concerned would be better off if she were kept hidden.

This was obviously not something Miss Samra had done to herself. It was a massive imposition placed on her and she was effectively the pawn in someone's game, disabling her in her duties. It was also something that the muggles couldn't do, which meant they had help from the magical community, someone who sought to undermine these negotiations.

Now he was burdened with managing her. She couldn't be released; she would only return, seeking his company with a manic determination. Her safety could best be managed here. Although he grew tired of Miss Samra's prickles and wariness, she didn't deserve this.

If he knew exactly what had been used on her, he might be able to find some way to reverse it, but not knowing made it too risky. For all intents and purposes, unless someone confessed, there were no antidotes and her body had to process the magic until it worked its way out of her system, which could take up to a month.

In the meantime, he would have Draco look for a culprit. This was obviously a form of subversion, of attacking the family and the ongoing negotiation process with the muggles. It had to be rooted out and destroyed.

Hopson appeared in the doorway.

"Is she safely stowed away?"

"She is chained in one of the guest bedrooms. She is highly confused and is asking to see you."

"Make sure she is fed. She is unlikely to eat willingly." The potion would rob her of sense and reason, wanting only to be near him. She could be quite dangerous in that quest, seeking to employ any tactic to achieve her aim. "Inform all in the house of her presence. You are the only person to deal with her."

"What shall you tell the muggle administration?"

"Perhaps we could construe that Miss Samra has gone on vacation. I will inform Draco; he will make the arrangements for it to appear so."

Hobson left and Lucius leaned back, wondering if perhaps he was better off killing the girl. A month of dealing with a manic, love struck muggle was too trying to bear, but then she was an innocent in this occurrence, even if found her trying as the chief muggle negotiator. She was more intelligent than the last one, and certainly prettier to behold. He was not one to rush to find a new one.

Hopson would have to keep her locked away until this had all passed and she could safely be released.