Page 87 of Nightshade

Aurelia sat at the far end of the long dining table, waving me over, and I smiled with relief. Her presence and company were very much welcomed, particularly after having met much of the staff, who seemed to think of me as more of a nuisance, or some kind of omen.

“What a relief. I thought I’d be dining alone,” I said, taking a seat beside her.

“Absolutely not. No one should dine alone!”

“Aurelia … do I smell … strange to you, at all?”

She leaned in close and sniffed. With a shrug, she shook her head. “I do not notice anything foul, if that is what you are asking.”

“Yes, thank you. Just a little paranoid after working with the dogs.”

“You certainly don’t smell like those mongrels.”

The food arrived on gorgeous white China platters with black rose accents, served by one of the women I recognized from the kitchen earlier. Appetizers arrived, escargot in garlic and parsley butter, followed by what I guessed to be roasted duck in a red fruit sauce and the most delicious wine I’d ever tasted. The fanciest dinner I’d ever been served. I just hoped the kitchen staff didn’t spit in it.

“It’s so nice to have someone to eat with,” Aurelia said beside me on a chuckle, before taking a sip of her wine.

“You ate alone before?”

Swallowing the wine, she nodded, resting her hand against her belly. “Just me and little Miriam.”

I wanted to ask how she knew it was a girl, but kept the thought to myself. “Are the dinners always so fancy?”

“Yes. Exceptionally better than the last place I stayed.”

“Strange that they don’t join us for dinner.”

She shrugged, shoveling in a mouthful of duck. “They’re not big eaters. That’s why they’re so skinny,” she said around the food stuffed in her cheeks. “Have you met everyone?”

“I think so. Only one whose name I didn’t catch was a blond man.”

“Remy. He’s Master Van Croix’s righthand man.”

“He’s a strange one, isn’t he?”

Cheeks flushing, she smiled and glanced away. “To be honest, I find him quite handsome.” She drew her bottom lip between her teeth. “I saw him without clothing once. Standing at the cliff’s edge. Bare muscled backside. Impressive, I must admit.” Her hands flew to her mouth, trapping a giggle. “I’ll surely have to repent for spying on him.”

Once again reminded of my own spying of Van Croix, I shifted in my seat. The conversation had suddenly taken an uncomfortable turn. I wasn’t accustomed to gossiping with women about men, particularly naked ones.

“What was he doing at the cliff’s edge?”

“Diving. Bit of a daredevil, that one. I’ve seen him dive off a few times. Nearly soiled myself the first time. Thought I was witnessing a suicide, until I watched him emerge from the water below like it was nothing. The men are a little odd here, in case you didn’t happen to notice. Master Van Croix hangs out on the roof and in the bell tower. Incredibly bold, given how dangerous it is there. Some have died in the bell tower, you know.” Her brow flickered, as if she might’ve known someone who had.

“I have a bit of a fear of lightning in general.” It wasn’t only my mother’s death that inspired it. Ever since I was little, I’d always felt like the lightning was searching for me, out to get me, the way it flashed around my bedroom window on stormy nights.

“Well, you certainly want to stay away from the bell tower, then. Not just for the lightning, either. Some of the girls talk about … things, with regard to Master Van Croix.” Brows lifted, she pursed her lips, and I knew more gossip would follow.

So intent on learning more about him, I didn’t even care that I was partaking in his rumors like a fiend. I couldn’t say why, but everything about the man intrigued me. The more I came to learn about him, the more I wanted to know. “What things?”

“Very depraved acts. Unnatural.” She seemed to shift with unease. “The very thought of what he does to some of the girls terrifies me.”

“Does he hurt them?”

“Well, they do not speak of injury, so much as the fear. Some of the women here, I believe, are glutton for that sort of thing, you know. Of course, I wouldn’t personally know anything about it. He’s never invited me up there.” Her hand fell against her belly again, as she shoved another bite of food into her mouth. “People tend to think that just because you’re pregnant, you’re not interested in lying with a man anymore.” It was strange, the way she spoke sometimes, as if choosing to avoid certain words, like sex, for example.

Figuring a change of subject was in order, I asked, “So, what are these pipes that supposedly rattle at night?”

“It isn’t the pipes, it’s the bell. You’ve not heard it yet? Oh, it makes such a racket sometimes, I can hardly sleep!”