He gripped me by the shoulders. “Did you cut him? Do you want him dead?”
There was no sense in explaining. I couldn’t look at him as he searched for truth. Truth I couldn’t offer. “Two hours, Felton.”
“Cilia, let me accompany you to your door. We do so well with thresholds.”
He started into the building, and I wrapped my hands about him. Face bouncing against his back, I stopped his advance.
In the hall of the boardinghouse, we stood together in the odd embrace.
My fingers skimmed the buttons of his open waistcoat, the smooth linen of his wrinkled shirt, and his fast-beating heart. “These lodgings, they’re only for women. The landlord is already uncomfortable with my late hours. I don’t need any trouble.”
My words slurred. To my ear, my accent held tiredness and a heavy island roar. “Return for me here. That will be after ten. We’ll be ready.”
“I’m not letting you out of my sight, and I’ll get you a safer place to live, one without a landlord that makes these kinds of threats. It will be part of our church settlement.”
Since he’d know about Enna and Noah soon enough, I yielded. “Fine, but be quiet.”
He didn’t move and even pulled me about him like I was a blanket. “Ahh. Our first agreement of the day.”
I tapped his back. “My lord, go to number seven before someone sees us.”
“Lucky number seven,” he said and moved down the hall with me glued against him.
When we stopped at my door, I broke free and dug into my cape for the key.
He took the heavy iron key from me and jiggled the lock.
We stepped inside the thick darkness.
“Odd. My Enna always burns a candle.”
He clasped my hand. “Be careful, Cecilia. You might walk into furniture.”
“I might say the same to you. It’s my home, remember.”
“Not your home, just a place you’re staying. For I don’t live here.”
The sound of his jacket rustling had to be Felton searching his pockets for matches.
Within my palm, he put the wood sticks. “I trust you know where a sconce is.”
“It’s my home. I should, Felton.”
When I tried to strike a match, icy fingers grabbed my wrist.
My bundle fell to the floor as I struggled. “Stop. Wait, my lord, that’s not you.”
“What the devil?” The sounds of struggle came from the right.
“Felton?”
Wham.Broken pottery sprayed my ankles. Something had crashed to the ground or had been thrown.
“Who’s here? Felton? Felton, where are you?” He didn’t respond.
I ripped away from whoever had me. “Gladstone?”
Swinging like a mad woman, I was determined to defeat the beast in my apartment. They’d gotten Felton too. Panicked, my heart exploded.
