Chapter 32
Nelle
After Graysen left our residence, I waited an impatient hour before throwing on a dress and winding a shawl around my shoulders to ward off the chilly air.
Borrowing one of his messenger bags, I tucked my secret notebook into its pocket and strode across the courtyard, my chin held high.
Thankfully, Graysen had kept his earlier promise that I was free to roam the estate.
I’d simply turned a steely gaze upon the sentry, and without a word, he opened the massive door, and I sauntered inside the Keep as if I had every right to be there.
Now I was crammed into a utility closet across from the library, waiting for the godsdamned Crowthers to finish whatever they were doing.
And they were taking fucking forever. Seated on a mini-stepladder, I’d scribbled down everything I learned today.
All the hallways I traveled, the servants’ apartments, the Great Hall and library, and even the shared garden.
My ass was sore, and my patience wearing thin.
Footsteps thundered outside the door. A male voice muttered a long string of curses, and cold wrath made my fingernails curl like claws.
I wanted to annihilate Jett Crowther on instinct.
Graysen’s leggy stride followed a moment later, his footsteps growing fainter as he retreated deeper into his family home.
Heat scorched my cheeks. I’d allowed myself one girl-moment to bask in that glorious kiss, and of course he had to barge in and catch me beaming and stamping my feet because I couldn’t contain my delight. Godsdammit.
When the hallway finally went quiet, I cracked the door.
No one. Good.
I needed to start my escape plan. I couldn’t rely on manipulating Graysen—I needed another way out.
The library was my best chance to find site plans, old records, anything that hinted at an escape tunnel.
Every estate had them. We’d be stupid not to, especially with the bloody feuds that arose between Houses.
And the Crowthers were wily enough to have several.
The Heart of the Keep was ancient, and the library sat right at its core.
I was willing to bet there was a tunnel somewhere in there.
I scooped up the blue cloths I’d used to block the light, shoved them back on the shelf, and slipped into the hallway. Sage stalked at my heel.
The heavy door to the library swung open as I pushed against it and ducked inside, the messenger bag rubbing against my hip with my stealthy movements.
Moonlight flowed through the mural cut into the wall up high.
The darkness behind the colored panes muted the sunshine and summoned its opposite, the dark of fall washing the glass night sky in deep violet.
The artist’s interpretation of the moon and stars seemed almost real, almost as if I could reach up on my toes and pull the starlight down to have it dance upon my fingertips.
Sage and I padded between tall rows of bookshelves.
The smell of paper and knowledge itched at me to pull a book out and soak up its words.
As I neared the end of the row, I saw antique seating gathered around a long table lined with brass-frosted lamps.
The collection of wooden chairs, spanning eras and cultures, was charming in its arrangement.
And for a painful moment, it reminded me of the cottage beside the lake with its cheery colors and chipped crockery.
It was just as I’d stepped out from between the rows when I heard noises.
A soft sweep of feet shifting on a woolen rug, the rustle of parchment, a dull thud of a book closing.
My gaze swung wide and locked on the back of a man the same moment he realized he wasn’t alone. His bowed head snapped straight.
Sage released a spine-tingling growl.
The stranger spun around, a book in his hand.
Pure rage exploded and raced across my skin in chilling waves. “GET THE HELLS OUT!”
Seriously, enough. Get the fuck out!
I hadn’t waited forever to be denied the library. And I certainly couldn’t search for an escape tunnel if he was here.
Sage erupted into ferocious barking. Saliva whipped away from his fangs as he surged forward. The man jerked back, the book jostling in his fingertips and falling to the ground. “Holy—”
Sage’s savage baying drowned out whatever else the stranger was about to say as he was bailed up against the table, leaning as far away as he could from my wraithwolf’s fangs snapping within reach of a leg.
I let Sage scare the hells out of him for a full minute before I quietly spoke his name, commanding my wraith-wolf to stand down.
The barking and growling ceased immediately, emptying the library of sound. Though Sage slowly backed off to return to my side, he kept his silvery eyes fixed on the man.
The stranger blew out a long breath of relief as he sagged against the edge of the table.
“Oh my gods, I thought I was going to be torn apart and eaten alive.” His gaze met mine, full of apology.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.
” Shifting forward, his arm rising as if he were about to offer a handshake.
I refused to give him the opportunity.
My heartbeat spiked with the flash of panic billowing through my chest. After Danne, being near a male I didn’t know made me incredibly uneasy. I jabbed my finger at him. “You stay right the fuck there!”
The stranger startled. “I-I-I…” His gaze darted about the library, and he half-waved a hand awkwardly as if searching for the words to explain himself.
“I didn’t expect… This is really…” He suddenly canted forward into a deep bow.
It was so ingrained in the Houses to hold to tradition when meeting a member from the Great House, yet the gesture pissed me off and turned my alarm into something more manageable—anger.
“Don’t fucking bother,” I snapped. Because why the hells should he?
He slowly straightened and stared wide-eyed, taken aback at the vehemence in my bitter tone.
Silence sat heavily between us as well as unease as he shifted from foot to foot, apparently unsure of what to say or do.
The air carried with it a woodsy scent of burning wood from the fireplace, along with spicy notes of whiskey.
White light spilling from a lamp crept over his shoulders, and the dying flames from the hearth cast amber across one side of his tall figure.
The book he had been reading lay open on the rug at his feet, its leaves dusted in gold.
He was good-looking, I had to admit, with short hair the same color as his eyes, a dark brown sparkling with bronze and currently brimming with curiosity and some other emotion that I couldn’t decipher.
His gaze ran across my messy bun with its halo of fuzz and ringlets, the cream shawl wrapped around my neck that hid the magical collar, and skimmed down my too-large dress to the tips of my bare feet.
Sage kept close as I approached, wanting to get a better look at him too.
The stranger’s navy suit conformed to a lean physique.
He appeared to be my age, but I couldn’t be sure with the neatly trimmed beard, which wasn’t quite a proper beard but the beginning of one.
He seemed pleasant enough, with an open face, full lips, and faint creases feathering from his eyes as if he smiled a lot, but I’d had dealings before with men whom I thought to be safe and easy-going, and that hadn’t worked out well for me.
“Who are you?” There was something familiar about him that tingled at the back of my mind. And judging by his uniform, he worked for another family, not the Crowthers. Maybe he could help me.
As he parted his lips to reply, an abrupt noise crashed through the library of the door shoved open and a high-pitched yapping. Sage loosened a low growl and bounded behind me right as someone arrived in a blur of speed.
“Dustin Reed, right?” came a furious voice. My heart erupted into a nervous creature to hear that menacing tone as the owner continued to speak. “You arrived with Aunt Addie’s retinue and then promptly lost this.”
I swiveled around.
Jett wrestled to keep hold of a small angry dog who lunged, yapping and growling, wanting to bite his face off. Behind him, a soldier in black fatigues approached in a quick stride, carrying some kind of luggage. An overnight bag, perhaps.
It suddenly fell into place where I had seen Dustin before. This was the man I had spotted arriving earlier. I’d only snatched a broad brushstroke of his features, a glimpse of brown hair and brown eyes, but now I had finer details.
Dustin hurried forward, reaching for the little dog.
“Ah, Fluffy. I was looking for you,” he gently scolded the Lhasa Apso as he took him from Jett.
The dog struggled in Dustin’s arms, continuing to yap and snap its tiny teeth at Jett.
I stifled a grin. Fluffy, much like Sage, was an excellent judge of character.
I tugged on Sage’s tail, urging him to retreat. My wraith-wolf was on edge with Jett’s appearance but also intrigued with the other dog.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Crowther,” Dustin apologized, running a hand down Fluffy’s spine, trying to calm the aggressive dog.
“He got away from me. I got lost looking for him and found myself here.” He swept an awestruck gaze over the Crowthers’ impressive collection of books.
“I love libraries. The smell of books is the best.”
I agreed.
My startled gaze darted to him, and as if he recognized a kindred spirit, he shared a quick grin with me.
Jett was too distracted by the dog, still wanting to sink its teeth into him, to notice. “Luckily for Fluffy the Fourth,” he hissed. “I found him in my wing before he chewed through every godsdamn cushion I owned!”
Dustin squatted down and pulled a small collar from his jacket pocket. “Yes, he does seem to enjoy cushions,” he replied while fastening the strap around the spitting-angry dog’s neck. The moment he attached the leash and let him go, the little dog raced toward Jett.