Page 22 of Keeper of the Flame: Orrick

“My lord,” said Harold, opening the door and standing there, but not entering the room. “I apologize. I tried to stop the ladies from coming up to the tower, honest I did.”

“And we can all see how well that worked,” grumbled Sir Rick.

“Hello, Sir Rick. How are you feeling?” Lady Grace fixed the laces on her bodice and grinned. Her tongue shot out to touch her lips.

“Grace, what are you doing?” asked Hope, putting the book into her pouch and slinging the bag over her shoulder.

“Waiting for you,” answered her sister.

“I’m ready to leave now. Let’s go.”

“Not so fast,” said Sir Rick, reaching out with his free hand to stop her. The boy smiled at her from under Sir Rick’s arm. “I would have a word with you before you leave.”

“Me? A word?” Her hand flew to her chest. “Whatever about, Sir Rick?”

“I think you know damned well what I’m talking about.”

“Please don’t curse in the presence of women and children,” she retorted.

“Fine.” He put the boy down and Noah darted out the door. “Harold, please take the boy and Lady Grace down to the kitchen where they can’t get in any trouble.”

“Aye, my lord,” said Harold, taking Grace by the elbow. She blushed as he led her away, following Noah down the steep, winding stairs.

“I’d better go with them to make sure they behave.” Hope took one step toward the door but Sir Rick wrapped his long fingers around her arm and kept her from moving.

“I don’t think so.” With his foot, he closed the door, leaving them alone together in the sorcerer’s room.

Orrick wasn’t about to let the wench leave now. Not after she read the title of the book aloud and broke the spell. She was able to read the pages and this upset him tremendously. Could she have magic? And if she did, could Lord Irwin have magic, too? If so, they were going to be more of a problem than he’d anticipated.

“How is your wound?” she asked, reaching out for his bandage. He grabbed her hand in his.

“Why don’t you tell me who you really are and why you are so desperate to find the Eternal Flame.”

“I – I don’t know what you mean.” She wet her lips with her tongue in a nervous reaction, but it only drew attention to her mouth. Immediately, Orrick was once again thinking about kissing her.

“Sit down,” he said, pulling her over to the bed and all but throwing her atop it.

“On the bed?” She looked up with those curious, big eyes. “Isn’t this a little inappropriate?”

“You didn’t seem to have any qualms about sitting on the bed when you were reading the sorcerer’s book to the boy. By the way, you never did tell me where you got it.”

“The book?” she asked, her eyes traveling to her bag while her fingers caressed the soft leather of the pouch. “Orrick gave it to me. Before he left.”

“He did not.” Orrick crossed his arms and paced back and forth in front of her. “Now, I want the truth.”

“Oh, all right,” she said with a sigh. “I stole it when my sister distracted you earlier.”

“Hand it over.” His palm shot out and he waited for her to give him the book.

“But I haven’t had a chance to look at it yet.”

“You’ve seen enough. Let’s go.” He shook his hand just under her nose as he waited.

Her hand snaked into the bag as she sighed again. Holding the small book reverently with two hands, the tip of her finger traced the edged torch and flame on the cover. “What do you know about the Eternal Flame and the Keeper of the Flame?” she asked.

She caught him off guard and he didn’t know how to answer. “Why do you ask?” His hand slowly dropped to his side. “Why would you even think I know anything about it at all?”

“I’m sure your great-grandfather, Orrick, must have told you about it. After all, you are related.”