Regret stirs with the dread, making it harder to breathe. I should’ve never left.
“But you’re wet and cold from the storm,” Avrum goes on, his voice gentle. “I don’t want you getting a fever.”
Oh? That takes me by surprise.
Turning, Avrum begins to walk up the main staircase, leaving me behind. I take a fleeting glance at the front doors again, my mind spinning in two different directions, before hurrying to catch up.
At the top is a long hallway with bedroom doors lining both walls. My gaze goes to the very end, where two of Henri’s doors are located. One for his study and the other leading to where he sleeps. In some bizarre way, they are taller than the rest, as if he’s trying to make a statement with them alone. In the center of the bedroom door rests a detailed bronze crow with its wings spread open wide and its beak open mid-screech.
Wanting to keep me close, the room Henri had chosen for me is beside it. When Avrum and I reach it, he spins to me again and pauses.
“You should change out of your damp clothes,” he whispers, refusing to meet my eyes. “I can send someone up to draw you a bath.”
Is he… embarrassed?
I almost laugh out loud. It’s an absurd thing to think about.
Avrum opens the bedroom door and steps aside so I can walk through. The room is simple with a small cast-iron bed, a side table with an extinguished candle next to it, and an armoire against the opposite wall. The only light comes from the random flashes of lightning through the small, barred window, causing striped shadows to cut across the room.
He continues to hover at the door, watching me. His lips press into a hard line, as if he wants to say somethingmore, but instead, he rubs the back of his neck in frustration.
There it is again—an unusual human gesture that confuses me. A way to ease me into trusting him.
Only, it’s not going to work.
Reaching into his breast pocket, Avrum pulls out something silver and blue before holding it out to me. I blink, realizing he’s holding the sapphire necklace Henri had made me wear to the party. The one meant to cover the wounds on my neck.
“I found it in the street when I went looking for you. I thought you might like it back,” he says.
Really, I wouldn’t care if he chucked the thing into a roaring fire, but for some reason, I reach for it. My fingers brush against his palm, and the simple touch brings me back to our heated moment in the foyer.
“Goodnight, Miss Haven,” he whispers, and bows.
Clutching the necklace, I don’t move. I’ve lost the ability, it seems, so I only watch him walk away in silence and disappear down the staircase.
How incredibly odd. When Henri had named him my caretaker, I hadn’t expected him to be almost kind to me. He’d even told me about his family and the farm where he’d once lived. Of course, he could be lying about it, but why fabricate something like that? To gain my favor? Why bother? Henri had never tried to do anything of the sort.
One thing’s for sure, this is all utterly confusing.
Hours pass and I’m still alone but no longer in my room. After my bath, I was brought next door to Henri’s study. I know what awaits me here. My punishment for trying to run away. What else could it be?
My insides are a jumble of nerves, and I pace the room, taking in everything I can. The most outstanding part of the study is the large stained-glass window that rises from floor to high ceiling. Beyond it, the property’s lake reflects the vast night sky above. The surrounding walls are lined with shelves, all filled with leather-bound books and priceless trinkets, and although the study smells heavily of cigar smoke and cologne, it is clean and orderly.
Henri’s writing desk sits in front of the window. Covered in papers and ripped envelopes, it’s the only unkempt part of the room. I try to imagine him sitting there like a normal man might, reading letters and doing work, but my imagination is quickly corrupted to him wrapping those terrible thick ropes around my wrists and smiling that terrifying smile at me with his fangs bared…
I glance down at my hands. Jagged lines mark the skin around each of my wrists. It’s why Henri forces me to wear those ridiculous bracelets and jewels, to cover up the truth. Just like with the wounds on my neck, the skin aches. What he does to me still scars.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I try my best to hide my partial nakedness. Wearing only a cotton nightgown, it’s indecent for any man to see me this way. It only confirms my fears of why I was brought here. Whatever the reason, it can’t be good.
A soft click causes my eyes to snap toward the connecting door, pulse galloping. On its other side lies Henri’s private bedroom. Like on the outside, this one bears a bronze crow too, with wings spread open wide and claws extended. The terrifying thing looks like it is about to fly off the wood and scratch at my face at any moment.
I back away, knowing that at any moment, Henri will be stepping through.
Out of desperation, I glance at the other door, the only other way out of here. There’s a guard stationed outside, as there always is when I’m alone, so making a run for it would be foolish.
There’s the window… but then I’d be faced with a steep fall that could shatter bones, if not kill me. Both options aren’t really options at all.
I’m trapped.
