2 Dove #2
Frandin delivered and served the afternoon tea while Maerryl continued to outline her recommendations for my security detail at great length.
Mother, shockingly, seemed quite taken by the woman.
Nodding along and asking question after polite question, she and the bodyguard discussed me and their plans as if I wasn’t in the room.
Mother even gave just the barest of eyebrow raises when Maerryl once clattered her delicate teacup against the saucer as she was setting it down, ignoring the gaffe without comment, and their interview moved on.
I glowered, grabbing my third mini vanilla scone and nibbling carefully.
I had just sucked in a breath to break into their conversation, when Mother clapped her hands together once, loudly.
“Well! I am pleased with your thoroughness, Miss Kirim, and you clearly have a sturdy head on your shoulders. That will be of use while guarding my rambunctious daughter. She can be a difficult one.”
Rambunctious? I thought to myself. What was I, a misbehaving toddler? A poorly trained dog?
Maerryl laughed lightly, and Mother joined in as if they were sharing an inside joke. My cheeks burned. Skin prickling with fury and something that felt uncomfortably like embarrassment, I clenched my fists. As I opened my mouth to take them both down a peg, Maerryl cut me off.
“I can see that,” she said, cutting a dismissive glance at me before leaning back toward my mother. “Trust me, I know the type. But she’s nothing I can’t handle. I’ve dealt with far more… difficult charges in my time.”
Mother murmured approvingly, the traitor, while I gaped at Maerryl. Outrageous. Utterly, completely outrageous and horrible woman.
But she wasn’t finished. “In fact,” Maerryl said confidently, as if going in for the kill, “I would highly recommend confining your daughter to the grounds. It can be dangerous these days. Rogues and criminals everywhere. Best to keep her tucked away in this lovely manor, where it’s safe. For her own good, of course.”
Eyes glinting cold and wicked, she gave me a thin smile, then sipped gracelessly at her tea.
“I beg your pardon!” I gripped the sides of my dress, hands clenching in tight balls.
It wouldn’t do to throttle this woman in the parlor, no matter how rage-inducing she might be.
“Where do you get off, coming into my home and saying that I should be confined? As if I am an invalid, or a prisoner?”
“For your own well-being. I assure you, that is my top priority,” Maerryl said, infuriatingly calm.
My blood boiled. “I—you—you blasted, muscles-for-brains ruffian!”
“Dovey. You’re giving me a headache,” Mom cut out to me, her eyes narrowing to slits. “And you’re being horribly rude.”
Glaring at Maerryl with hate in my heart, I listened in disbelief as Mother said, “I’m inclined to agree with you, Miss Kirim.
Too true. You have the job. The pay is eight gold a week, and we will provide materials or hire workpeople for any necessary modifications you intend to make on the manor.
You will be expected to escort Dove wherever she goes, endeavor to keep her indoors when possible, and remain by her whenever she steps outside these walls. ”
“Now hold on—” I tried to interrupt again.
“Of course, Lady Iris,” Maerryl inclined her head, talking over me. “Thank you. I will protect your daughter with my utmost abilities. No matter how challenging the job might be.”
“See that you do.” Mother sniffed, looking more like her severe self for a moment.
“Dove is very dear to us. And if any harm befalls her, I assure you that you will regret it to the end of your days.” The other woman simply inclined her head again, brows drawn.
I wanted to rip out her hair piece by piece.
Mother nodded, a decisive bob, before rising and moving toward the hall. “Frandin will see that you are settled in my daughter’s suite. I trust that you don’t object to sleeping in an adjoining room to hers.”
“What!?” I screeched. This wasn’t what we’d agreed on. “That is my—my painting studio!”
Mother sighed. “It’s your third so-called studio in the house, Dovey, and you work mainly in your office these days anyway.
That old room is hardly more than a dusty storage space.
Which my staff will,” she added, glancing at Maerryl again, “of course clear out and clean before you retire to sleep by tonight.”
“Well—yes, that should be fine,” the bodyguard said, though I noticed a slight grimace.
I opened my mouth again to argue, but Mother said with finality, “Good! Then I shall see you both at supper. We eat promptly at sunset. Perhaps you want to survey the grounds now, while your room is being prepared? The servants will bring in your bags from the stables.” And with that, she swept from the parlor, Frandin following his mistress out and leaving the two of us alone.
We watched each other. Well, I glared. Maerryl just stood there, assessing me, one thumb hooked in her belt loop, a jaunty, and admittedly sexy, pose. I hated the look on her face—so calm and self-assured. A jailor pleased with her given task.
“I look forward to working for you,” she said, a mask of servility covering the glint I saw in her eyes. “Lady Dove.”
I stepped closer, not breaking eye contact.
Her hazel eyes widened slightly, posture tensing, but she didn’t back away.
“I don’t know who you think you are,” I murmured.
“But I do not need or want a babysitter. And if you get in my way, trust that I will see you back on the road again before you can say ‘unemployed.’ ”
I forced more steel into my glare, ignoring the peppery spice scent that came off her skin, the golden flecks in her irises. “Do we understand each other?” I hissed.
Maerryl’s steady gaze bore into me. She said slowly, “I understand you perfectly, Lady Dove.”
And with that, she stepped to the door, nodded in mock deference to me once, and disappeared down the entrance hall.
I listened to her soft footfalls as she moved to the front door and exited.
Standing there alone among all the recently purchased finery of the parlor, fading afternoon light dimming their brilliance, I closed my eyes and tried to absorb what had just happened.
My parents had finally gotten their way.
I was to be watched, shadowed, every day as I went about my life.
All because my new talents—the very same that I’d used to save our home and livelihoods—unfortunately also made me a potential target for nefarious folk.
The vague idea of having an ever-present guard foisted on my peaceful, independent life had been bad enough these past weeks.
But the reality of the situation now, as I was forced to face it, was abominable.
I could not stand for this. I would not.
One way or another, I must get Maerryl Kirim under my control.
Or get rid of her.