Chapter 29
Ceridwen and Bronwyn stood at the imposing manor gates in the morning sunlight. The day had dawned crisp and clean. A fresh layer of white powder covered the ground, which they’d disturbed on their short trek. A few gray birds scratched at the snow on the other side of the gate, trying to get at the ground below.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Bronwyn asked, looking over at her sister.
Telling Drystan goodbye would have been easier. It would hurt. It might cut out a part of her heart that would never grow back. But facing down his monster, his darkness? That could crush her even more. Her family could still use the money, though, especially since Adair’s foolishness could cost his job. And she needed…something. A sense of life and passion she’d lost somewhere along the way. Gwen said she made Drystan more like the young man he used to be, and perhaps he did the same for her, too, in a way.
Was she sure? No. But she’d regret it forever if she didn’t come. That much she knew. “He’s coming now.” Ceridwen tilted her head to the approaching butler, avoiding her sister’s question.
Jackoby, dressed in a jacket of navy blue and silver, strode through the yard in more haste than usual, walking down a path from the manor doors to the gate where the snow had been scraped away in preparation for visitors.
“Miss Ceridwen,” Jackoby announced as he reached for the key always secured inside his jacket. The barest hint of a smile pulled at his lips. “We are quite pleased by your return.”
“We’ll both be coming in.” Ceridwen motioned between Bronwyn and herself. If she returned to Drystan’s employ, it would be on her terms.
She expected an argument or a stern reminder that Lord Winterbourne did not allow guests. Instead, Jackoby nodded and swung the gate wide to permit them entry. “Very well. I’ll see you both to Lord Winterbourne’s study.”
Ceridwen blinked, dumbfounded. Since before dawn, she’d practiced her argument to permit Bronwyn entry as well, yet she didn’t need it. One hurdle crossed without a fight.
Without another word, they entered the gate and waited for Jackoby to lock it behind them before following him inside. The manor reminded Ceridwen of how it had been on her first visit. Clean. Ornate. Dark. But most of all, quiet. Lifeless.
Somehow, she expected it to be as she’d left it, but the spark of life she’d found and nurtured within these walls had vanished in her short absence. Ceridwen searched every hall and doorway they passed for signs of the people she knew, yet they came across no one. Not until they reached the study.
Jackoby rapped three times on the door before a muffled confirmation sounded within. A knot twisted in her stomach. Her throat grew tight. Ceridwen hadn’t been nervous…until now. Suddenly, she wanted to run, but she’d come this far.
Her choice slipped away when the door opened.
The curtains were drawn, as they nearly always were, leaving the room shrouded in darkness pocketed by flickering oil lamps spaced around to provide light. This room remained much how she remembered it, with its smattering of fine furnishings, shelves with assorted books and items, a mammoth writing desk, and more space than anyone truly needed in a study.
“Missed me already?” Malik reclined in a cushioned armchair like a reckless boy, his legs thrown over one armrest and his back propped against the other.
Bronwyn froze, her lips drawing into a thin line. Ceridwen winced, feeling the tension in the room press tight around her.
“Malik…” Drystan sat near him, two glasses of dark liquid on the low table between them.
“Ah, right. I promised you some privacy.” He rose in one fluid movement, stretching his arms over his head as he crossed the distance to the sisters. “You’re welcome to visit any time,” he said to Bronwyn. “Even if this one says no.” He hiked a thumb at Drystan before departing with Jackoby.
Everything Ceridwen planned to say fled her mind as soon as the door clicked shut. The room grew smaller, despite its impressive size, and for all the world, she couldn’t make her legs cross the room to the seating area that he occupied. Drystan’s gaze had not left her from the moment she entered the room. Nor now, as he rose and relocated the glasses near a silver pitcher on a far table.
Bronwyn coughed lightly into her hand. The sound brought Ceridwen back to the moment. Bronwyn stared at her, brows raised.
We’re here for a reason, right?She could almost hear her sister’s silent words.
When Ceridwen still didn’t make a sound, Bronwyn spoke up. “Our apologies for our brother’s actions last night, Lord Winterbourne. He can be quite troublesome.”
Understatement.
“I’ve dealt with much worse,” Drystan replied. “Would you both like to have a seat?” He gestured to the collection of chairs surrounding the table where he and Malik had been sitting.
A seat. Yes, I can do that.Her legs complied before her mind fully processed the request, gliding her along the fine carpets to the chair nearest Drystan’s. The leather hugged Ceridwen into its embrace as she reclined in the deep brown chair, trying to keep her hands still while they yearned to twist in the fabric of her dress.
Bronwyn raised her brows again. She’d come for moral support, not to lead this discussion.
The knot in her throat tried to block her speech, and Ceridwen had to swallow it down. “I’ve come to discuss your request.”
The quiet intensity of Drystan’s steady gaze urged her to continue.
“If I return,” Ceridwen began, “I want to be able to leave to visit my family. I want them to visit too.”
Drystan’s lips thinned. “Your brother?”
She winced. “Perhaps not him. But what about my sister?”
Bronwyn shifted her gaze to him as well, reminding him of her presence.
Drystan steepled his fingers and reclined in the chair. Ceridwen could practically see his mind working behind the blue eyes that skewered her to the leather. “You know how I feel about…” He pursed his lips, but she knew what word he omitted. Outsiders.
Stepping gently around certain topics wouldn’t help with this discussion. Ceridwen took a deep and steadying breath, smoothed out her dress, and stated simply, “She knows about the monster.”
A sharp gasp filled the silence. His eyes flew wide. Drystan stood and began pacing back and forth, his hands moving in motions that made no sense but spoke volumes. “Ceridwen. You—” He rubbed his hands down his face.
She hugged her arms around herself. “We’ve kept your secrets. We won’t share them.”
“No one can know.” Drystan’s voice had all the softness of steel as he looked between the sisters. “Whatever you witness in this manor, whatever you learn, it cannot leave.”
“And should anyone ask?” Bronwyn said, completely unruffled.
The hard stare Drystan gave Ceridwen’s sister might have sent some people running, but Bronwyn merely cocked her head to the side and waited.
“You’ll tell them you saw me little, if at all,” he said. “Tell them that I don’t like company and prefer to keep to myself,” he said. “Tell them it’s for my health and exertion from keeping the monster at bay, but never tell them what you know.”
She leaned forward now, showing the courage Ceridwen often wished she had. “And is it hard? Keeping the monster at bay?”
Bronwyn… Ceridwen groaned inwardly.Perhaps bringing her had been a mistake after all.
But Drystan did not bat away her question or demand she leave. “More than you can imagine.”
The confession stripped the heat from Ceridwen’s body. She needed to learn more about his transformation. Soon. Today. She pressed her lips together as she stared between them. “I think that—”
“One more question.” Bronwyn cut her off, one finger raised as she glared at Drystan. “Will my sister be safe amid such difficulties?”
With a glare of his own and arms crossed in front of his chest, Drystan replied, “I wish I could promise that, but I can assure you, I’ll do everything I can to keep her safe.” The last part, he directed at Ceridwen.
The nerve, talking about her as if she were some child in need of coddling.
“I believe you, and that’s what matters.” Ceridwen jumped in before they carry on with their exchange. Her sister wanted the best for her, yes, but she could take care of herself too.
Bronwyn gave a brief nod and settled back into the chair, silent for now.
One discussion resolved, Ceridwen shifted her focus to Drystan. “If I’m to return to your employment, I need to know more about the monster.” She pinned him with her steady gaze as he often did her. “What causes it to appear. How to prevent it. How you change back. Everything.”
A muscle jumped in Drystan’s clenched jaw. Eventually, he nodded, a move that disheveled some of the dark hair curling around his ear. “That’s fair, but you and you alone shall know. Tell no one. Not your family, not Malik, nor any in the household. Don’t write any of it down. And no one, save you, shall enter my tower.” His steely gaze slid to Bronwyn. “Not for any reason.”
She crossed her arms but nodded.
“And my family will still receive payment for my services?” She couldn’t forget that, no matter whatever else he’d provided or agreed to. Her father would need more medicine, which only money could supply. Despite her own worries and hesitations, his very life depended upon her actions. That certainty helped Ceridwen’s lingering apprehension to slide into the background.
“Of course,” Drystan replied.
A smile crept to her lips without thought. “Then I accept.”
Ceridwen made to rise, but Drystan’s quick reply held her down. “Wait.”
The air rushed from her lungs as she slipped back into the leather.
“Take a walk with me first.” He held out a hand to help her up. “I want to tell you more about my monster. You deserve to know that before you finalize your decision.”