And I catch the flicker of hurt.
Looking away, I drop my eyes back to Ella, my hand reaching for hers and squeezing her shaking fingers. She glances up at me, her eyes misty.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “It’s just… this is harder than I thought it would be.”
And she moves a little closer into me. Her whisper is loud enough for Stasi to hear, and in the corner of my eye, I see her stiffen.
“I understand,” I say, patting her hand. “Let’s get everyone seated, and perhaps a glass of wine will help.”
We move over to the elegantly laid table. Warm golden light flickers from the two candelabras as I seat Ella in the same place Stasi sat this morning, sinking down next to her. Silas takes the seat at the head of the table with Crispin next to him, opposite Ella. Kit sits on his other side.
“Well,” Ella says. “This is lovely.”
From this position, Stasi is behind us. But Silas’s voice rings out in demand. “Wine.”
She moves to him first. Head down, she fills his glass with the wine from the cellar we decanted earlier, moving around to Crispin and then to Ella.
Ella looks up at Stasi. “How… how are you?”
Her voice is soft, sweet. Unsure.
Stasi places Ella’s glass down on the table heavily, and it wobbles. “Fine.”
Her response is a snap, and Silas clears his throat. Crispin raises an eyebrow from across the table. “Still an unmannered brat, I see.”
All of us stiffen, but none more so than the woman who snatches my glass, filling it almost to the brim before she shoves it at me.
I can feel their eyes on us, and my voice is harsher than it needs to be when I snap. “Behave.”
Deep brown eyes move to mine, and she curtseys.
Fuckingcurtseys.
“Of course,sir.” Her tone is vaguely mocking as she backs away, filling Kit’s glass before she moves back to stand against the wall. My hand tightens around the fragile stem.
Ella glances over her shoulder, and then she turns her attention to Silas.
“Since my sister won’t answer me,” she says quietly. “How have things been here?”
Silas’s eyes flick to behind me. “We’re settling in. These things can take some time to adjust to.”
Crispin swigs from his glass. “You’re lucky you’re hidden away down here, Silas. They’re dropping like flies in the city from this damn virus.”
Silas frowns, his eyes flicking to me. “It’s that bad? I thought it was just a flu.”
Crispin shakes his head. “It is, but some have taken it badly. The hospitals are full. Spreading like damn wildfire. They expect it to run its course in a few weeks, but we’re taking the hit in the meantime.”
He takes another swig, emptying his glass and waving it towards Stasi. “More.”
When she steps up beside him, he twists to face her with a disgruntled expression. “So. You look to be in reasonable health.”
“Was she not supposed to be?” Kit’s voice rings out. He tilts his head when Crispin turns to him. “I don’t believe mistreatment was part of the agreement.”
He humphs. “I believe it was to be a fair reflection of Ella’s experience.”
I glance down to the woman at my side. She’s watching Anastasia, a small smile tilting the corner of her lips. “Perhaps you could give us some further details, and we can look into it.”
The trace of a smile disappears, and she dips her head. “I’m not sure that I would be comfortable… taking about it.”
