Magdala nodded at Zephyr, and he rounded the corner, supporting Asherton. “I’ve saved him.”
Chapter 42
Seamus stared agog at Asherton.
“Da,” Magdala said tentatively. “Can we please come inside?”
“You may,” Seamus said. “But that skat cannot!”
“Da,” Magdala warned. “I’ve been nearly blown to pieces, shot at, almost drowned. I don’t have time for your petty prejudices. Let us in, or I’ll force my way into the house and lock you out in the yard.”
Seamus was so dumbstruck, Magdala was able to push past him and hold the door for Asherton and Zephyr.
“Sorry,” Asherton said as he slipped past Seamus, trying to take up as little space as possible. Seamus stared at him like he was a possum or a troublesome raccoon who’d wandered into his house.
Fearful someone might peer in the window and spot them, Magdala shut the curtains and then pulled her father inside and locked the door. He stood in the cluttered living room, his shoulders stooped, gazing at Asherton in speechless horror.
Asherton leaned against the wall apologetically, his clothes dripping puddles on the floor.
“Why …” Seamus raised a shaking finger toward Asherton. “Why would you bring him here?”
Magdala decided that the direct approach was the best approach. “Da,” she said. “I’m Asherton’s bodyguard. Huxley is after us, and he’s trying to kill us, and we need somewhere to stay.”
“Of course Huxley’s trying to kill him!” Seamus exclaimed. “Did you hear what he’s planning to do? He’s going to embroil us in a pointless war!”
“No, Huxley is trying to killus,” Magdala said. “Me as well.”
Seamus swallowed. “He wouldn’t do that.”
She gestured to the gash in her cheek.
A shadow passed over Seamus’ face. “No, no, this … this goes against my principles, my conscience, everything I believe and stand for … I cannot have that man in this house.”
Then his eyes traveled to Zephyr, and his face washed ghost-white. “No,” he whispered. “Not you.”
Zephyr looked just as stricken. “This is your father? You are Seamus Slorus’ daughter?”
“Do you know one another?” Magdala asked.
“We cannot stay here with this man,” Zephyr said, turning back toward the door, but Asherton bent over, coughing violently, and Magdala’s patience ran out.
“Zeph, you will stay in this house with him until I return.” She grabbed her father’s arm and pulled him toward the door. When he resisted, she said firmly, “I want to speak with you alone.”
Jaw set, shoulders like marble, Seamus followed her out into the dark yard. She sensed his anger like an open oven, hot against the back of her neck. Once they were tucked in the shadow beside the house, she spun on him and said, “Nothing you can say to me will change my mind. I am that man’s bodyguard, and so I will guard him.”
Magdala couldn’t read her father’s face. He gazed at her, impassive, and where she thought she would greet a furious tirade, she met stony silence. The silence was worse.
But she knew exactly how to make him speak.
“And what’s more, I love him.”
Her father reeled back like she’d struck him. “Do not say such things!”
Magdala lifted her chin. “I will say whatever I like and you will listen.”
“He is living in your house!” he cried, advancing on her. She didn’t give an inch of ground, and he was forced to back up or shout directly into her face. He chose to back up. “He stole our title and our lands!”
“His father stole them. Did you expect him to give you the house back on principle? He was a child!"
