Page 54 of Nightshade

“Wow. His family line goes way back, huh?”

“Centuries.”

We kept on up the staircase, to a long, dark passage. A thick wooden door with heavy, black iron hardware was where we came to a stop.

“You’ll sleep here,” Anya said, opening the door to an octagonal room.

Inside, the canopied bed, with its black, crushed velvet bedding and plush tapestries, reminded me of something a member of the royal family might sleep on. A matching velvet chaise stood off to the side, in front of ceiling-high windows and the longest set of drapes I’d ever seen. An old-fashioned armoire and vanity sat at the opposite wall.

“I’ll arrange to have ice brought up for your injury. Will you require a doctor’s examination?”

Touching my hand to my forehead again, I shook my head. “It’s just a small bump.”

“Very good. I’ll also have some food brought to your room, if you’re hungry. It’ll be left outside your door. And there’s a basin there with fresh linens, to wash up, if you’d like.”

“Thank you. You said Van Croix isn’t here right now?”

“No, he’s out for the evening. My hope is that, by the time he returns, you’ll already be fast asleep.”

“Might there be a chance that I could speak with him?”

The smile on her face pinched to a frown. “You wish to speak with him? May I ask the nature of such a meeting?”

“I’m under the impression he might have spoken to my father at one time.”

“Oh, I can’t imagine.” Hands clasped together, she snorted. “He rarely speaks with anyone. Not very generous with his time.”

“Still, if I might ask him a few questions, it would help put my mind at ease.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Tonight?” I’d hoped not to come across as too eager and anxious, but the quicker I could speak with him, the less anxiety I’d feel about the whole meeting altogether.

“Definitely not tonight. I’ll arrange something for tomorrow.”

Schooling my disappointment with a slight smile, I nodded. “Okay. Thank you. Again. For graciously taking me in.”

“Of course, dear. And I trust you won’t make me regret it.”

17

Lustina

Lustina stepped cautiously through the brush, eyes scanning the surrounding forest by instinct. Her mother had taught her how to sneak up on prey without making so much as a crackle across the dying bracken, but as she approached where the baron sat with his back to her, it was she who felt stalked, somehow.

“I see you did as I asked,” he said, without turning to look at her from where he remained crouched by the river.

“You expected otherwise?” She relinquished her tiptoeing and stepped out into the clearing from behind the bush where she’d hidden.

“I know few things about you, Lustina, but I can say with certainty that you are one who does not particularly enjoy doing as she’s told.”

The comment made her chuckle, and she nabbed a fallen twig and stood at the river’s edge beside him. “Your observations are astute, My Lord.” Drawing swirls into the water’s surface, she debated the questions that’d plagued her mind in the week since their encounter at the cathedral. So many things she wanted to ask him, but feared how to approach them without inciting his defenses. “I released the bird, as you had me promise last week.”

“And did he fly?”

“Quite impressively. The sight brought immense joy to my heart. Thank you for seeing to his wounds.”

“It pleases me to know you are happy.”