“It’s what I wanted,” I state clearly.
He gives me a weak smile and looks slightly mollified. It will have to do. I can’t wait until this is all over and everything is good between us. It’s horrid being at odds with him.
I sit across from my cousin and spread marmalade on my toast and then take a big bite. It’s delicious. But as lovely as breakfast is, I need to keep up my grumpy act.
“Have you remembered to feed Harry his gruel?” I snipe.
Eban sighs wearily. “We are treating him well. We are not monsters. Archie took him a proper breakfast. Everything we have here.”
Archie. Earl Hathbury. Master of the house we are in. It would make complete sense if he was the one with the keys. I know someone will be keeping them. They’d hardly leave them on a handy hook by the basement door. They are not stupid.
“I hope you are not letting Garrington down there, given his history with Harry?” I ask.
“Of course not! What do you take me for?” says Eban.
It is strangely reassuring that he is not denying that Garrington would bear a grudge or take advantage of the situation. Eban’s phrasing also implies that he is in charge here and it was all his doing. So maybe he does have the keys?
I huff as if I’m just annoyed. Silence falls as I eat my breakfast and Eban sips his coffee.
“Am I allowed to get some fresh air?” I whine and it’s a little alarming that I’m so good at sounding petulant.
“I can walk around the gardens with you?” Eban offers.
Perfect. Exactly what I wanted him to say. We can stroll around the grounds and I can listen for the jingle of keys. I stuff the rest of my toast in my mouth and gulp down my tea. Eban finishes his coffee and we set off.
It’s a lovely day, if a little chilly, and the gardens are stunning, even in the tail end of winter. In other circumstances, I would be really enjoying this.
I set a fast pace and I can’t hear any jingling from Eban. But he is wearing tight jeans. If the keys are in one of those pockets, they wouldn’t be moving at all. But in that case, surely there would be a clear outline.
The keys cannot be on his torso because he was wearing a tee shirt when we were at the breakfast table and he popped on a fluffy white jumper before we stepped outside. Neither of those will have pockets, so the keys have to be in his jeans. If he has them.
I risk trying to sneak a peek. Heaven help me if I’m caught, it’s going to look like I’m checking out my cousin’s ass or his crotch. He is a very good-looking man, but in a femme twink way. Not my thing at all. And, you know, my cousin! I’m not a pervert. At least, not that kind of pervert.
Okay, I need to stop this train of thought and concentrate. Keep my mind focused on the task at hand.
“Are you going to keep Harry locked up forever?” I hate to be so belligerent but I need a distraction.
Eban sighs despondently. “Of course not. The plan was never to capture him at all. We were just supposed to whisk you away.”
I can hear the stress and worry in his voice. It makes me feel guilty. He got himself in this predicament in his desire to protect me. He is probably regretting everything.
“We will think of something,” he says.
From his point of view, simply releasing Harry is not an option. Harry will be furious and either enact revenge or involve the mage council. Possibly both. An angry, powerful mage with connections, and the paranormal authorities, are both things I wouldn’t want to have after me. Either separately or together.
Just what solution Eban and his little band are hoping for, I can’t envision. So maybe, I can talk them into releasing Harry, after all? If I get Harry to swear there will be no consequences? That should encourage them. Thing is, can I get Harry to promise such a thing?
I sigh and rub my forehead. Why is everything so difficult?
Well, at least now I’m fairly certain that Eban doesn’t have the keys. I’ve stolen a fair few glances at his butt and I can’t hear any jingling. Now I need to somehow wrangle some time with Hathbury, to see if he has the keys. And then try to get someone to let me see Harry, to see if I can talk him into a truce. Since I might as well work on both plans at once.
I’m going to have a terrible headache by the end of the day, I can just tell. And that really is the very least of my worries.
Chapter twenty-six
Atthisrate,I’mgoing to grind my teeth down to stubs. Half an hour after finding Hathbury in the library, the man still hasn’t moved from his desk. He is just sitting there, politely answering all my inane questions about the books lining the shelves. How am I ever going to find out if he has the keys?
Okay, take a deep breath. I can do this. I fall silent. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Hathbury’s attention flick back to his computer screen. I quickly grab the most expensive looking book I can see and let it fall to the floor with a thud. It lands spread open on its front. I hope I haven’t damaged it, it does look quite old.
