Gordon’s housekeeper brought us tea and apple tarts. Poor Roux wasn’t offered a thing.
I frowned. Not very nice of my godfather.
Gordon raised his teacup. “To progress at the château.”
I touched my cup to his.
“And to your future plans. May they all come true.”
I sipped my tea happily.
“And to the next group of boarders I send over to stay with you,” Gordon added.
I almost sputtered tea all over the rug. The nextwhat?
“Oh. Too hot,” I bluffed, taking another bite of tart to buy time to think.
A warm, itchy feeling set in on the back of my neck, and I scratched it. But it only increased.
I forced down the apple tart. Gordon was trying to read my mind, wasn’t he?
I knew he was capable of that and much, much more. Powerful warlocks had all kinds of tricks up their sleeves. But he’d never tried any on me.
Until now.
I sipped my tea, thinking fast. Raising mental defenses was easy. Raising them subtly, so the other person didn’t realize you were onto them, wasn’t.
I unlocked the part of my mind that obsessed about food, my appearance, and my future love life — all the usual issues for a woman my age. Meanwhile, the hidden part of my mind spun. Why new boarders? The current group was okay. Well, Bene was. Roux was annoying, but even he was better than someone new.
Henrik, on the other hand, I would be happy to trade in.
“Mina didn’t tell me you planned to send us more boarders,” I said as casually as I could.
“Well, with the current group reaching the end of their contracts soon…” Gordon’s eyes flashed unhappily. “I’ll compensate you according to the same terms, of course.”
Very favorable terms, I knew. But Roux’s warning flashed in my mind.No promises.
“That’s very generous. I’ll make sure to discuss it with Mina when she gets back.”
Gordon went still, like a predator spotting prey in the distance.
“Oh? Is she away?”
Oops.
I wiped my mouth. “I mean, whenIget back.”
“I see.” Gordon took a bite of his tart, though he didn’t seem to savor it. “And the current crew… What are their plans?”
More warning lights flashed in my mind.
“I haven’t asked. I’ve been so busy working on the ballroom. We’ve made good progress on the ceiling.” I pulled out my phone and came over to sit beside Gordon. Bad idea, because the itch in my mind became a pounding.
I briskly stirred the thoughts in the open part of my mind. Things like how delicious the tart was and how much more I could eat of it. What colors I might choose for the ballroom ceiling. How far our savings might stretch, and how soon we might generate sorely needed income…
“Doesn’t the ceiling look so much better now? Those flourishes in the corners take forever to clean, but they’re coming along well.”
“Wonderful, wonderful.” Gordon was his usual polite, supportive self, but I sensed an unusual level of disconnect. Was he simply regretting that his relationship with Mina had cooled, or was he busy plotting a rival crime boss’s downfall?
