Page 20

All this time, I’ve given him some measure of credit, benefit of the doubt, and all that.

Turns out, the Devil of Bonesalt really is an asshole.

* * *

Light physical, mostly emotional support, I text to Aunt Midge, when she asked what was wrong with Lady Blackthorne that she needs a companion. She’s probably lonely after her husband’s death.

If I tell her the truth, that the entire family is bat-shit crazy, or moody as hell, she’ll not only tell me she was right, but it’ll be passed around The Shoal for the next week like a donation basket at church, everyone adding their version of the story. I refuse to give this town more gossip to devour.

Well, I’m sure she’ll find you a good source of entertainment. How’s your room? They lock you in a tower?

I lift my gaze to the room I’ve been assigned, and just like the first time, my eyes can hardly imbibe the magic of it all. Tall windows curtained by thick, black drapes allow in the shimmer of moon’s light. The bed and vanity are a heavy, but ornate dark wood that I’m guessing would take a half dozen men to move. The linens are velvet grays and black, with only a splash of white for the sheets. A black crystal chandelier hangs from the center of the room, giving it a gothic Victorian appeal. In spite of the incessant chill that hangs on the air, the bedroom is cozy, and the fireplace across from me crackles as it burns.

Perhaps the only thing I’d change is removing the creepy doll that’s propped on the nightstand beside my bed. One of Laura’s, I’ll bet. Long, blonde hair and blue eyes hardly detract from the stern angle of its brow and the devious smile stretching its lips, as if it might come to life while I sleep. Other than that, the room is somehow fitting for me.

Like a fairy tale, I text back.

Yeah, well. Fairy tales are just that. Tales. Don’t get too caught up in it.

Like I would. Try not to have too much fun while I’m gone.

In the time it takes Aunt Midge to text back, which is three times as long as it takes me, there’s a knock at the door, and I nearly drop my phone on the floor.

Climbing off the bed, I type back, Talk later. Love you.

The floors creak as I make my way across the room, and I throw back the door to find a woman with dark bronze skin, about the same age as Nell, though slightly less gloomy and fairly attractive. Silky black hair is pulled into a tight bun that sits at the back of her head, and bright red lipstick adds a pop of color.

“Hi, I’m Giulia. You must be Isa.” The first person besides Rand who actually knows my name. “I’m a couple rooms down. Just thought I’d stop in and say hello.” The gray double-breasted dress with white collar and cuffs, and a white apron tied to the front, is a dead giveaway that she’s housekeeping.

“Thought all the employees in this place left for the day.”

“Blackthornes keep me overnight. Just in case. But I’m the only one, besides the nurse. And you, it seems.” She peeks past me, as if trying to see into the room. “Can I come in?”

“Sure.” She’s probably been in here to clean it at some point, anyway. Who am I to tell her she can’t come in?

Ambling to a stop in the middle of the room, she tips her head back, as if she’s absorbing something in the air, and when she turns to face me, there’s a slight smile on her lips. “Beautiful, isn’t it? Never in a million years did I think someone with my background would end up living in a castle by the ocean.”

“Your background?”

“Poor. I lived on the streets. My daughter and I did.”

“She lives here with you?”

“No. Didn’t think this was a place for children. She stays in a boarding school now.” Nodding toward the fireplace and back, she asks, “Are you comfortable in here?”

“Yeah. It’s a little drafty, but other than that, I’m fine.”

“This was Amelia’s old room.”

My enthusiasm for this place deflates like a balloon. The long, drawn out squeal of a balloon.

Of the many rooms throughout this castle, why the hell would they place me in the dead wife’s?

“I wasn’t aware.”

She glances over her shoulder toward that creepy-looking, porcelain doll. “Here, I’ll put that in the closet for you.”

“Thanks. Was kind of giving me the creeps.”