Book in hand, she curled up in the chair by the window and began to read.
Stefan woke at mid-day, his body on fire with need. His injuries should have healed by now, but the pain of his wounds was more excruciating than they had been the night before. He didn’t know what hellish concoction the hunters had soaked their weapons in, but it had negated his power inways nothing else ever had. Had his mother still been alive, she would likely have been able to identify the substance. He could feel whatever it was burning through his body like acid. He clamped his lips together to hold back the urge to cry out.
Blood.The scent of it drove him crazy. Help was so close, but he was too weak to climb the stairs.
But not too weak to call his prey to him.
Leanora sighed as she put away the broom and the mop. Thus far, she had washed the breakfast dishes, dusted the furniture, swept and mopped all of the downstairs floors. She would have to do Bryony’s room later. Lord Stefan insisted she clean every day even though Bryony kept everything neat and tidy. Still, Lord Stefan paid her well, and if the floor she had mopped hadn’t needed it, who was she to argue with her employer?
Sitting on one of the kitchen chairs, she pondered the strange relationship between Lord Stefan and Bryony. They weren’t man and wife. They didn’t seem to be lovers, or even friends, so why were they together? Not that it mattered. She was only here to clean and cook and do the laundry and the shopping.
Remembering that she had forgotten to dust the mantel, she grabbed her cloth and returned to the main room. She glanced at the alcove beside the hearth, wondering where the door led, and why Lord Stefan had told her she wasn’t to clean down there.
She had been curious to see what he was hiding ever since.
She glanced upstairs. When last seen, Bryony had been curled up in a chair, lost in the pages of a book. Lord Stefanwould not be home for hours. What harm could there be in taking a peek?
Lighting a candle, she tried the latch, frowned when the door remained closed. With a shrug, she was about to turn away when the door swung open of its own volition. Terror speared through her when a voice as dark as midnight called her name.
A voice she couldn’t refuse.
With a sigh, Bryony laid the book aside and stretched her arms and shoulders. She had been reading for hours. Funny, how fast the time went by when she was caught up in a good story, even one she had read before. Rising, she ran her fingers through her hair, then frowned when her stomach growled. A moment later, she heard the downstairs clock strike the hour.
“Goodness!” she exclaimed. “I’ve missed lunch.” Wondering why Leanora hadn’t called her, Bryony hurried downstairs. But the kitchen was empty and there was no sign of Leanora anywhere in the house.
Puzzled, she made do with a sandwich and an apple, all the while wondering where Leanora had gone. It wasn’t like her to simply go off without saying goodbye. Had she been called away?
Leaving her dishes in the dry sink, Bryony went back upstairs. She had been thinking of painting another picture of Daisy, one with more detail and a different background. Perhaps Stefan would buy a frame for it and she could hang it over the bed. But for now, she was anxious to work on the rough sketch of Stefan for an hour or two before dinner.
It was dusk when Bryony left her room. The downstairs was quiet. No sound emerged from the kitchen. Frowning, she went to the door. The room was empty. Nothing was cooking on the stove. She looked in the library. It, too, was empty. Chewing on her bottom lip, she moved slowly toward the alcove. Had Leanora gone down into that dungeon of a place, seen the coffin, and fled the house?
Heart pounding, Bryony put her hand on the latch, but nothing happened. The door remained closed. She breathed a sigh of relief. Leanora hadn’t been frightened away. Perhaps she had taken sick and gone home.
She let out a squeak when she turned and saw Stefan standing behind her.
“My apologies, sweet Bryony,” he murmured. “I did not mean to startle you.”
She blew out a relieved sigh. “I was looking for Leanora. Do you know where she’s gone?”
A shadow passed behind his eyes. “She will not be working here anymore.”
“Oh?” She looked up at him, waiting for an explanation, but none was forthcoming.
“You must be hungry,” he said, glancing at the stove. “Get ready, and I will take you out to dinner.”
Lacking the nerve to question him further, she ran upstairs to get her cloak.
Bryony had hoped to go into the city for dinner. Instead, they walked to the village. It was not a large place. A few smallhomes were scattered about. An inn, a stable, blacksmith shop, and a cobbler occupied one side of the street, a doctor’s office, a dressmaker’s shop, and a pub that served food and drink occupied the other side.
Stefan opened the door for her and led her to a table for two near the back, and eased her cloak from her shoulders. Moments later, a young lady came to take their order. Bryony requested lamb stew, Stefan ordered a glass of red wine. He seemed unusually quiet, as if his thoughts were elsewhere. She started to ask him why he hadn’t ordered anything to eat and then changed her mind. He didn’t seem to be in the mood for idle conversation.
She kept her head down when her dinner arrived, all too aware that he was watching her. The weight of his gaze was a palpable thing, as was the tension emanating from him.
She ate quickly, eager to return to the solitude and relative safety of her room.
As soon as she laid her spoon aside, he dropped a few coins on the table. Rising, he draped her cloak around her shoulders and then reached for her hand.
After a moment’s hesitation, she placed her hand in his and they left the establishment.
