Torquatus’ face drooped longer than a wait till Christmas. “T-that, sir? But it’s only a measly ferrum!”
“And it’s worth the whole of your reputation,” Cassian warned him as he held out the simple coin. Torquatus reluctantly stretched out his hand, and Cassian dropped the coin into his palm. My companion clapped his hands before he rubbed them together. “Excellent. Now, if you will excuse us, we must get some sleep.”
Torquatus pocketed the coin with as much glee as a mime at a funeral. “I’ll have the bugs removed at once then. Vesta can do it.”
Cassian nodded at me. “No. My wife is not as frightened of bugs as I am and will handle the removal.”
I looked in bewilderment at him, but a certain twinkle in his eyes sealed my lips.
Torquatus bowed his head. “You are most gracious, kind sir. I will inform my cook that you will take breakfast tomorrow-”
“I hope it will be a very large breakfast,” Cassian mused as he grasped my shoulder. “My wife is especially famished after she wakes.”
At this rate, he was going to ascribe to me every honor and dishonor known to man.
Torquatus cocked his head to one side, and one sharp eye fell on me. There was no love in those dark depths. “I see. I will warn the cook then. If you will excuse me.”
He slipped out, though not before giving us an impressive glower, before disappearing around the doorway.
Chapter 19
I turned to my companion and put my hands on my hips. He was tucking the purse back into his pocket. “So I’m a bug catcher now?”
“You might be,” Cassian mused as he drew out the empty bottle from earlier, which he held out to me. “Unless you wish me to catch them again.”
I blinked at him. “You catch them-” My eyes widened, and my jaw hit the floor. I stabbed a finger at him. “That’s what you were doing in the field!”
He chuckled as he turned and strolled over to the corner, where he knelt down. “Yes. I’m glad these little ones were so useful.” He plucked them one by one and placed them in the jar. The beetles scurried about inside the glass as he stood and set the cork in place. “We should release them as soon as possible. They are not ones to like confinement any more than a free man.”
I turned my head to the garden. “I do have to go out to that, um, tilted toilet, so I could take them.”
Cassian held the bottle out to me. “They thank you.”
I took the container and studied the skittering bugs. My eyes briefly flickered to the outdoors. “Will they be alright in the garden? I mean, it’s not exactly a field.”
“Have you never seen a fieldshroud before?”
“No.”
“They will be fine,” he assured me as he patted the top of the cork and gave me a wink. “Nature finds a way to survive.”
I sighed, but tucked the telltale bottle in my pocket. “Speaking of nature, she’s calling me, and I’d better answer quick.”
I slipped out of the bedroom and tiptoed down the hall to the top of the stairs. The voice of our furious host drifted through the halls like an ominous mist. “No, I don’t want the best wine served! The stuff in the pantry is good enough for them.” There was a brief pause while an unheard reply was given, and the master resumed his fury. “No, don’t take out that rare steak! It’s for special occasions!”
Stomping footsteps followed, and I scurried down the staircase and ducked through the open archway of the east wing. Torquatus marched through the arch opposite mine and up the stairs. He paused at the top to smooth out the wrinkles in his suit and face, and continued down the hall toward our room with a steadier and less stompy gait.
Not being familiar with the interior of the house, I slipped across the small foyer and out the front door. The evening was creeping upon the village as I crept around the exterior of the east wing to the rear garden. The short fence out front was succeeded by a taller, old wooden fence that surrounded the rear of the home.
Vines covered the wood, creating a cascading waterfall of greenery decked in purple flowers. The air was filled with their gentle, perfumed scent, and a few late birds sang their sweet songs in weathered fruit trees that I passed under. A stone path guided me to the back, where I soon found the leaning loo.
But first, I had a job to do. I popped open the cork and knelt, where I turned the bottle upside down. The beetles tumbled out and onto a mess of yellow flowers tumbling out of an overgrown flower bed. My eyes widened as I watched their bodies change color, from the dark green of their leaves to the brilliant yellow of the flowers.
The beetles climbed to the peaks of the highest petals and lifted their strange, smooshed noses into the air. Their shells parted and revealed wings with dazzling undersides. They lifted themselves off the flower and into the sky, where they soon disappeared from view.
“Wow,” I breathed as I watched them vanish.
It was at that moment that my sixth sense tingled, and I turned toward the house. I raised my eyes to the window of my room and noticed that the curtains swayed a little, as though someone had just been standing there and stepped out of sight.
