Page 63 of Wolfhaven

Finally, the man relented. “Fine, Nurse Ballard. As long as you promise to wake me up if you feel at all tired.”

“I will,” she vowed. Lying through her teeth. She crossed her fingers behind her back. “We’ve all had a long day. Let’s get an early night’s rest.”

Upstairs, while Gran was in the washroom cleaning up—the only place where they dared to go alone—Gareth pulled Evaine aside and said, “Here. I got you something today.”

Cold metal pressed into her palm. Opening it, she found a cheap brass hair comb she had been idly admiring to give the pretense that she actually intended to buy something in that shop earlier today.

“Why?” she asked, confused.

“I saw you looking at it. I bought it for you. A gift.”

It was gaudy, with a paste pearl glued to the center and gold paint that had already begun to chip. “For last night, you mean?” she clarified. Her throat felt thick with pent-up emotion.

“Yes. I mean⁠—”

“Keep it, Gareth.” She held it out to him. He didn’t take it. Just stood there glowering at her. “I am not so cheaply bought off. I didn’t sleep with you expecting trinkets. Or anything else, for that matter. I don’t have any designs on you. Or anyone.”

Not anymore. Twice, she had given her heart freely and twice had it crushed. She was done with men and romance. Forever.

“You don’t want a family?” he asked in apparent confusion.

Pain lanced her heart. “Perhaps someday. But you don’t. You have made that quite clear from the beginning, Gareth.”

A muscle in his jaw feathered.

“Evie, it’s your turn.” Hazel came out of the bathroom right then and did a double take.

“His Grace will take the next turn,” she said.

“Ladies first.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Good idea,” Gran said brightly, ignoring him. “That will give us a chance to get changed for bed. Come, Evie.”

Fine. Rather than try to bully the man into taking his turn, Evaine would simply move quickly. She brushed her teeth furiously and spat into the sink. Half expected to see someone in the mirror, standing behind her, when she straightened, but there was only her own hollow-eyed face reflected back at her.

The duke was right. They couldn’t stay here in this haunted mansion for the winter. If its owner didn’t kill her, the house itself would drive her mad.

She had to think of somewhere else to go.

Chapter 29

Gareth

How had he gotten that so wrong? Gareth listened to the house’s wooden bones creaking in the silence. The wind howled. Evaine came out of the washroom and stomped into her bedroom without meeting his eye.

Had she been crying? Because of him?

Yes, because of you, idiot. Who else? He thought she’d liked the trinket. He’d meant it as an apology. An offering. She’d interpreted it as an insult. A bribe.

For fuck’s sake, if he had wanted to try and pay her for services rendered he’d have given her a hell of a lot more than a cheap hair trinket. The possibility of paying her had never once crossed his mind.

He had to get the women out of here before anything worse happened. He must protect Evaine from himself.

He stared into the mirror and told himself, “You are no better than your own father.”

A dark shape moved in the shadows behind him. Gareth did not whirl around. Heavy footsteps echoed. He half expected a hand to land on his shoulder.

“Hello, Father,” he said grimly.