I sipped my wine. “Changed how?”
“I can’t describe it. It turned very cold. Frightening. He looked like he could kill everyone around him. I have never seen anyone that angry. He was like a storm except it wasn’t raging, it was . . .”
“Contained.”
“Yes.”
That checked out.
“He asked where you were, and Lute told him that the Butcher took you and that he had a beast that could track you down. His tunic was soaked with blood. He kept saying that he lost you and he had to find you, or the Butcher would kill you.”
Poor Lute.
“We bandaged him the best we could,” Clover said. “Lord Everard ordered him to recount everything that happened since you left the house. Lute did, and then Lord Everard looked at the Shears woman. His eyes glowed green, and she bowed her head and stayed like that until he turned away.”
Right. Lute got stabbed, but she was in one piece, uninjured, and in Everard’s mind, she had allowed me to be taken.
“We finished working on Lute. A second carriage arrived with more people in it.”
The Shears backup.
“Lute and Will got into the driver’s seat. Lute gave the little beast a leather pauldron with blood on it, made an odd noise, and the beast flew up, pulling on a chain. Lute said they would have to follow the beast. Lord Everard got into the carriage, and they left.”
No horse other than Villain could carry Everard, because something about his magic made horses panic, and the entire city was looking for him. Every second counted, and he’d been reduced to riding in a slow carriage at the mercy of a temperamental magic beast and the man who had failed to protect me and was slowly bleeding out. It was a miracle that the carriage hadn’t exploded from his rage.
“How bad is Lute’s wound?”
She frowned. “It looked bad to me, but his father said it was a scratch.”
If you cut off his hand, Gort would say it was just a flesh wound. “So we have no idea how badly Lute is hurt?”
“Precisely,” Clover said.
Right. And now that the emergency was over, Everard would circle back to Lute letting me get snatched by the Butcher while he stood three feet away. Everard didn’t tolerate failure. I needed to make sure that Lute was okay.
I gripped the stone wall. “Please help me out of this tub.”
“I really think you should stay in.”
“I think so, too, but I really want to check on Lute. I don’t want him to be in trouble.”
A knock sounded through the door.
Clover went to it, cracked it, listened for a moment, and shut it again. Her eyes had gotten very big.
“My lady.” Her voice was oddly formal. “His Grace wants you to know that nothing is going to happen to Lute tonight. His injuries are not life threatening, and he did help find you. Lord Everard suggests you stay in the tub and finish your wine. When you have rested, he will escort you to your suite.”
When he’d said he would be right outside, I had taken it figuratively. Apparently, he meant it literally. Also, apparently, our doors were made of paper.
“Is he still out there?” I whispered.
Clover nodded, her eyes still as big as saucers.
“I’m going to need more wine,” I told her.
It took me half an hour and two more cups of wine to get out of the bath. Clover helped me into a nightdress that was modest enough to cover everything and wrapped a shawl over me for good measure. She also brought my house shoes, so I wouldn’t have to be carried everywhere.
I braced myself and opened the door. Everard waited on the other side, as promised.
