The Binding (Unexpected Magic Book 1) Read online

  THE BINDING

  Unexpected Magic #1

  SAMANTHA JACOBEY

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  THE BINDING. Copyright 2016 ©

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Lavish Publishing, LLC.

  Unexpected Magic #1

  First Edition

  All Rights Reserved

  Published in the United States by Lavish Publishing, LLC, Midland, Texas

  eBook edition

  ISBN: 9781944985097

  Cover Design by: Wycked Ink

  Cover Images: Adobe Stock

  www.LavishPublishing.com

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. Guardian

  2. Nostalgic

  3. Intuition

  4. Danger Zone

  5. Nothing New

  6. In Charge

  7. Bloodlines

  8. Exchanging Places

  9. Hidden Clues

  10. Tandem Wishes

  11. Through the Years

  12. Happenstance

  13. Expected

  14. Breach of Contract

  15. Implied Truth

  16. Natural Reaction

  17. Déjà vu

  18. Inverted

  19. Notorious

  20. Golden Age

  Thank You

  About the Author

  Also by SAMANTHA JACOBEY

  Also From The Lavish Family

  Prologue

  Lifting the book anxiously, Ezamay caressed the leather binding. Her fingers trembled slightly as she traced the outline of a long, slender object hidden inside it. Satisfied that it wouldn’t be noticed, she replaced the text on the table and searched for her phone in her pocket.

  Fishing out the device, she dialed the number from memory, not daring to store it in her cell. “Teddy? It’s time,” she whispered hoarsely.

  “Is it arranged?” a deep male voice inquired.

  “Yes,” Ezamay replied a bit more confidently. “Everything’s in place, or will be by the end of the day. Garrett will contact you once things are in motion.”

  “Very well. I’ll be ready.”

  Dead air followed, and she knew he had hung up. Darkening her screen, she stared at her phone for a long moment before she returned it to her sweater’s oversized pouch. “Glenda!” she called loudly.

  “Yes, ma’am.” The housemaid entered through the tall arch that connected the foyer to the study, smoothing her apron over her uniform skirt.

  “We will need a tea service as soon as Meri arrives,” Ezamay informed her stiffly. “Be sure to include those little cakes that she likes so much.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Glenda nodded as she backed out of the room.

  Turning to the window, Ezamay watched the large oak tree outside sway in the afternoon breeze. Her thoughts on the past, she sighed deeply, recalling the days when she had lived in a more modest dwelling, without servants to cater to her every whim. Seems so long ago, she lamented.

  For twenty-five years, she had been the matron of the Monroe residence. She had married Garrett in one year and given birth to their only child the next, and in all the time since, she had kept her former life hidden. None knew of her childhood, nor did they suspect her secrets.

  Time had grown short since Merideth had graduated from college a year ago. Damn her, Ezamay cursed her daughter under her breath. Immediately, she cringed, well aware that the situation was not her daughter’s doing. Her eyes narrowed, she glared at the dancing limbs. This is my fault; and I’m the one who has to fix it.

  A sleek black Mercedes pulled into the drive, and a tall, slender young woman stepped out, causing Ezamay to catch her breath. An ache formed in the pit of her gut as she watched her close the door to her vehicle and glide towards the entrance. Waiting patiently, Meri joined her a moment later.

  “Hello, Mother,” Merideth used a soft voice when addressing her.

  “Hello, darling,” Ezamay replied, turning to give her visitor a half hug. “How was your journey?”

  “Relaxing.” Meri smiled. “It’s good to be home for a visit, even one as short as this.”

  “Indeed.” Ezamay indicated the couch as Glenda returned with a silver tray filled with cups, plates, pastries, and a pot of fresh tea. “I’m glad you could make it,” she said lightly, lifting the tome and placing it on the end table that sat where the chair and sofa formed a corner. “I have a gift for you.”

  Eyeing the large leather-covered text, Meri’s lips curled. “Another old book?”

  “Yes.” Ezamay’s eyes sparkled. “A very old one passed down through my family from mother to daughter, one generation to the next.”

  Merideth struggled to hold her grin, only half succeeding. “You didn’t ask me here for another lecture, did you?” she asked stiffly.

  “No.” Her mother shook her head, her hand resting lightly on a worn edge of her offering. “I understand your choice. Having a family is a big decision, and first you must meet the right man.”

  “Mother,” Meri breathed, her smile gone, “I told you. I like my freedom. I don’t need a man to complete me! Why can’t you just accept that I’m happy with my life the way that it is?”

  A tear glinted in the older woman’s soft blue orb, and she blinked rapidly to remove it. “No lecture, sweetheart. I understand your choice. I respect it. I only give this to you that you may read it if you wish. It is a diary, of sorts, with each woman adding a bit of her own story before passing it along. My pages are at the end, with a few blank ones left for your story. Yours will be the last that will be added.” She sniffed.

  Shaking her head, Meri poured herself a cup of tea and dropped in a spoon full of sugar. “Thank you, Mother,” she said as politely as she could muster. Taking a sip, she envisioned the shelf in her New York flat that held the rest of her mother’s treasures. This newest addition would join them, and some day, she might actually take the time to peek inside it.

  One

  Guardian

  “Do you think we should be doing this?” Rider asked, turning only slightly towards the older man to his right.

  “We don’t have a choice,” the other man replied, keeping his voice equally low.

  Staring at the girl facing him, Rider’s pulse quickened. Watching her dab at her eyes and occasionally wipe under her nose, he knew her pain. “It doesn’t feel right,” he insisted. “Maybe we could—”

  “No, we can’t,” his father cut him off, his tone a bit gruff this time. “Until we get some answers, this is how it has to be.”

  A slight drizzle dripped down on them, turning into a heavy sprinkle and eventually a downpour. Adjusting his umbrella over his head, the younger man sighed deeply. No longer able to hear the priest’s words due to the deluge drumming the taught cloth above him, he focused on the gathering. His eyes roving over the mourners, he knew the odds were good that one of them was a murderer.

  “Do you know any of these people?” he asked a bit louder to beat the noise of the rain.

  “Some.” Thaddeus Br
adshaw’s steel grey eyes also searched.

  Rider’s matching blue orbs narrowed into slits as he watched a heavy-set man work his way through the crowd, stopping when he stood directly behind Merideth.

  “Dad,” he growled, “on her six.”

  “That’s her uncle,” his father informed him.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I’ve known this family since I was a child.” the senior Bradshaw shifted to peek around to the sides and behind them. “We grew up on the same block, back when neighbors knew each other.”

  “Then why is this the first time I’ve heard of them?” Rider adjusted his long jacket against the dropping temperatures. “Damn. I think they’re going to get an early winter here.”

  “Maybe. Virginia can be fickle like that.” Thad nudged the arm next to him. “I think it’s over.”

  “You haven’t answered my question,” Rider prodded as they joined the line to walk by the casket. His heart beating rapidly inside his chest, he covertly blew air into his palms and sniffed it. If I’m going to meet this girl, the least I can do is make a good impression.

  Ignoring him, Thaddeus reached for the grieving widower’s hand. “Garrett, I’m sure sorry about your loss.”

  Watching Meri over the tops of their arms, Rider recognized the sullen expression. Her eyes red and swollen, her thick layer of makeup could not mask her sorrow.

  Stepping forward, he offered to shake as well. “Mr. Monroe.”

  “Hi, Rider. I’ve heard so much about you,” Garrett said politely.

  “Oh? From whom?”

  Laughing anxiously, the two older men exchanged a glance before the shorter man clamped his arm around the girl’s shoulders, hugging her against him in a half embrace.

  “Gentlemen, this is my daughter, Merideth.”

  “How do you do?” Rider offered her his digits, regretting it a moment later when she gave him a dead-fish shake. Forcing a smile, he made the offer, “Can we take the two of you to dinner?” He had been rehearsing the line all morning and, having finally said it, felt as if a weight had been lifted off his chest.

  “I’m afraid we can’t.” Garrett shook his head. “We have a large amount of family here at the moment. But they’ll be leaving in the morning. Perhaps tomorrow night we can get together and catch up?”

  “Sounds wonderful.” Thad nodded on the agreement. “We’ll get a reservation for us at six at Joshua Wilton House.”

  His mention of her favorite restaurant caught the girl’s attention for a brief moment, his smile seeming out of place when she glanced at him before purposely looking away.

  Staring at the creased skin around the clear blue orbs of the younger man, Meri guessed him to be at least thirty. Blinking at him a few times, her eyes burned from the hours she’d spent crying.

  She had just buried her mother, and the last thing she wanted to do was to be sociable. Only half listening as they arranged for an evening together, she thought about the last time she had seen her mother alive.

  She had made the trip home only a few weeks before. Her mother had grown temperamental during the last year, since Meri’s graduation from UCLA. She had thought finishing and moving to New York and closer to home would settle the older woman’s attitude, but it hadn’t.

  They had shared tea and spent a few hours visiting, but the conversation constantly returned to their latest point of contention.

  Merideth had informed her mother nine months ago, when she accepted the position at Muriel Brandolini, Inc., that there would be no grandchildren to dote over. Her mother had taken every opportunity since to make her feel guilty about the choice and to try to persuade her otherwise.

  Shaking off the dark thoughts, Meri turned to the man who stood next to her, noting that he studied her intently. “I’m sorry,” her voice cracked. “I’m ready to go back to the car.”

  “I’ll walk you,” he informed her, leaving the two older men to greet the rest of the mourners. Offering her his arm, he waited patiently for her to take it.

  Stealing glances at him as they picked their way through the puddles, she leaned slightly against him to stay beneath the umbrella that he held between them.

  The rain had only added to the sadness of the occasion, in her mind suiting it perfectly.

  Arriving at the car, she noted that he had a ponytail formed by dark ringlets that hung a few inches down his back. “Thank you… Rider, was it?” she said softly as he helped her into the car.

  “Yes.” He grinned, giving her a small nod. “Would you like for me to join you until Mr. Monroe arrives?”

  “No. I’ll be fine.” She shook her long, honey-colored strands and settled into the leather-covered seat. “My father will be here when everyone is gone.” Staring straight ahead, she dismissed the stranger.

  “All right,” he agreed. “I’ll see you tomorrow evening.” Closing the door firmly, he adjusted his umbrella to better block the spray as he returned to the older men as the last of the line filed past.

  Shaking hands again, the three men said their goodbyes. Garrett trudged towards the long black limo that would carry them home, while Rider and Thad strode through the wet grass.

  When they arrived at their own vehicle, Rider slid behind the wheel, folding his protection and giving it a shake before he pulled it inside and dropped it into the floorboard behind the passenger seat.

  “Should we follow them?” he asked once he had started the car.

  “Yes,” the older man agreed. “Until this is resolved, you are that girl’s guardian, whether she knows it or not.”

  “Agreed.” Rider kicked on the engine and swung the car around. Seeing the taillights of the limo ahead of them, he held back once they had made the turn out onto the actual street and parked a few hundred feet from the gate of their estate so they could monitor them from a discreet distance.

  Staring out the glass at the fading light, Thad noted, “At least the rain has stopped.”

  “Yeah.” His son grimaced. “You should call a cab and head back to the hotel. No sense in both of us spending the night crammed in here.”

  Watching various lights come on throughout the large structure, the older man sighed. “I think we might as well both go. This place looks pretty secure, and there’s at least a dozen people inside.”

  “You think she’s safe?” Rider sounded doubtful, picturing her sullen expression beneath her long locks.

  “I imagine that she is, at least for now. Let’s head back to the hotel, and we’ll come back over early before they have a chance to go anywhere, and we can tail them then.”

  Restarting the engine, Rider reluctantly agreed, “Yeah, I guess we can’t really even be sure that anyone is after her at this point.”

  Cutting his eyes over to peek at him for a moment, Thad didn’t respond. His hands folded in his lap, he turned to stare out the side window instead, keeping what he knew about the Monroes and who might be after them to himself.

  Two

  Nostalgic

  Meri awoke later than normal. Staring at the room she had lived in all of her life, or at least until she had entered college, she sighed loudly. Little of her personal items remained, and the few that did only made her forlorn.

  Sliding from beneath the covers, she slipped on her house shoes and tied her robe around her to cover her thin silk sleeping attire. Taking her time in the bathroom, she brushed her teeth and inspected herself in the mirror, in no hurry to leave the sanctity of her bedroom and private bath. She could hear noises out in the hall and knew that the rest of the house had probably been awake for a while.

  A few of her mother’s family had come for the funeral, people she had never met, and had left afterwards with little to say to them. Something had happened between her mother and those related to her, and Merideth had learned at an early age it was a subject forever closed. I’m surprised they came to her funeral, she admitted to herself, almost glad they had gone home after ignoring her mother’s existence her entire life. Wh
atever happened to cause the rift must have been pretty severe, and the silence between them had been mutual.

  It would be her father’s nieces, nephews, and cousins causing the noise outside her door—people she felt familiar with and who visited them fairly often. However, losing her mother had ripped her heart from her chest, tearing deep chasms of regret within her, and she did not feel in the mood to welcome visitors, to say the least.

  Dropping her robe and gown, Merideth stepped into the shower and washed her soft brown waves along with the rest of her slender frame. Using the dryer to comb it out straight, she applied makeup and then stared at her reflection for a long moment. Deciding it would have to do, she removed a black, light-weight sweater and a pair of slacks from her suitcase.

  Finally, she donned her favorite Stuart Weitzman spike-heeled black leather boots. Caressing the studs along the top for a moment, she recalled having purchased them the previous Christmas on a shopping spree with her mother. Her life had changed in the blink of an eye, and she had only begun to realize how deeply her mother’s loss would affect her.

  Dressed and feeling presentable, she made her way out into the hall. At the far end, her uncle busily pulled suitcases out and placed them next to the door, where the butler would gather them and transport them downstairs. Turning her back on the activity, her fingers trailed the banister as she descended into the kitchen.

  “Good morning, ma’am,” Glenda addressed her formally.

  “Good morning.” Meri made herself a cup of coffee, cringing at the laughter of children as they ran through the adjacent hall. Fortunately, they would be leaving soon, and the house would return to its sophisticated calm. Even I didn’t run through the halls screeching, she lamented as she lifted the warm brew to her lips, her features twisted in a sour grimace.