“This will be a solo opportunity, Elena,” Master Radcliffe replied in his friendly voice. “Don’t be concerned. I’ll accompany you to Moscow to ensure you’re settled and see your early performances.”
The smile slipped from her lips. Ivan reached across and squeezed her hand. Elena shook her head. “I can’t go without Ivan. Iwon’t.”
Tension crackled across the table, although I couldn’t understand why. My gaze fell on Ivan’s face – his eyes shards of sharpened stone, ready to cut the Master down.
“You’re going, and that’s the final word on the matter.” Madame Usher glared at the twins. “You need to grow up sometime.Bothof you.”
Nothing more was said about Moscow, or anything else. Lunch finished in stony silence, Ivan piercing each person at the table with an icy glare. As I stacked the dishwasher and wrapped up the rest of the roast beef to make into sandwiches, Harrison walked into the kitchen carrying an armload of wood.
“I brought up fresh supplies. The forecast is for another storm to hit this week. Will we be visiting your mother this afternoon?”
“Hell yes.” I slammed the fridge door and wiped my hands on my apron. “I can leave right now. I’ll just need to run upstairs and grab my violin.”
“Good. I’ll meet you around the front in the limo. If you see Dorien, tell him I’m waiting.”
“Dorien’s going to be with us?”
Harrison’s face darkened. “I don’t like it, either, but his family lives near the hospital and it makes sense for us all to drive together.”
I sighed. Obviously, saving the environment and all that. “I know why I don’t like him, but what’s your beef?”
“He was the one dating Clare when she had her accident.”
My hand flew to my mouth.Dorien?I knew what Harrison suspected, could hear the accusation dripping from his words. I’d seen the cruelty in Dorien’s eyes directed at me, but I couldn’t believe the Dorien I knew would kill a girl.
But did I know him still? Dorien had more secrets than a heart-shaped box. Plus, he had tormented me since the moment I arrived, and once upon a time he cared about me. If this Clare crossed him, what would he do to her?
I slunk out of the kitchen and headed for the stairs. As I ascended, my gaze fell to that empty square on the wall where the portrait used to be. It hadn’t come back from the cleaners yet. I wondered why Madame Usher, usually such a stickler for everything in its proper place, hadn’t gone postal with them yet about its late return.Maybe she reserves all her ire for her staff.
I reached the first story landing and turned toward Dorien’s room. He was already leaning against his door wearing a black t-shirt that clung tight across his shoulders over black jeans and combat boots. A leather jacket slung over his shoulder crackled as he moved. Curls of dark hair flopped over his eyes as he frowned down at his phone, running his fingers over the edge of his stubbled jaw. So effortlessly sexy – too bad he was such a fucktrumpet.
When he heard me coming, Dorien shoved the phone in his pocket, as if he were hiding some kind of national secret.
“Harrison’s just bringing the car around front, so meet him there.” I jabbed a finger at the staircase.
Dorien didn’t acknowledge me. Fuck, I hated this ghosting thing, especially after what happened in the gazebo. I spun on my heel and stalked up the narrow attic stairs to my room.
I grabbed my purse and violin case and took the stairs back down two at a time, too on edge to care if I slipped and broke my neck. I missed Mom so much. If she’d been awake and coherent, she’d have advice on how to handle Manderley and Broken Muse. I could just imagine her with a cappuccino in her hands, sloshing hot coffee everywhere as she gesticulated wildly, regaling me with a tale of how she won over some difficult executives with her wit and acumen.
When I slid into the limo, Dorien was already inside, staring at his phone screen with a foul expression. I sat near the front, beside the bar, and rapped on the glass. Just because Dorien wouldn’t talk to me the whole trip didn’t mean that I had to endure his silence.
“Hey Harrison, you ever use the sound system on this thing?”
Harrison flicked on the radio knob, and a loud burst of static blasted through the speakers. “No reception until we get closer to town.”
“No problem.” I pushed the button on my phone to sync the Bluetooth, then hit my finger on the perfect playlist – the upbeat pop songs Mom loved to play while she cooked or pottered around the house.
Lady Gaga’s voice blasted out the stereo. I sat back and sang along at the top of my lungs. I kept one eye on Dorien, who didn’t lift his eyes from his phone.
Ten minutes down the road and three pop songs later, a vein was throbbing in Dorien’s head. I flipped through my music list, choosing song after song I knew would drive him crazy. I put on ‘Achy Breaky Heart’ and Harrison belted out the words, his voice a wonderful rumbling tenor.
I kept up a stream of 80s hits – my mom’s favorite music – and was having so much fun I barely noticed the drive go by. Harrison turned down a narrow country road. A high stone fence ran alongside the ditch, barbed wire curling around the top. Dorien stared out the window, still as a statue. The mood in the car turned frosty, and not even Prince’s greatest hits could thaw it out.
Harrison pulled up outside a high iron gate – the only break in the stone wall for miles. Through the narrow bars I could just make out a crumbling driveway curving off into the trees, and a giant pile of garbage stacked beside the gate. Signs along the wall read KEEP OUT and NO TRESPASSING. A gabled roof peeked through the tops of the trees, like some kind of medieval fortress. “What are we doing here?” I asked.This is a weird place to be running errands.
Dorien had already flung open the rear door and clambered out. “Thanks.” He nodded to Harrison. “I’ll see you back here at 4PM.”
Harrison nodded, tearing away from the gate so fast the back wheels spun out. I pressed my face against the back window, watching the gates swing open to admit Dorien. His black-clad body faded into the distance as we sped away.
