Chapter 10
Alistair’s proposition echoed in my mind all night, as did the girls’ words about men searching the village. If I’m right and it’s Jareth looking for me, then my time is running out. Which means that Alistair’s artifact may be my best way to freedom.
But I can’t afford to be reckless.
Before I can agree to Alistair’s offer, I need to be sure of who I’m dealing with. So I dress quickly and slip out of my room without a sound, heading for the east wing.
I make quick work of finding Alistair’s room, pulling the pin from my hair to work on the lock. I’ve been in the manor long enough now to know that Alistair isn’t in his room. He starts every day with a swim in the lake before the sun has a chance to rise. One glance outside tells me that I should have half an hour before he comes back in.
But I won’t need it. A few seconds is all it takes for me to get the door open to reveal Alistair’s quarters.
The sitting room itself is large enough for two bedrooms. There’s a fireplace on the right, with a couch and chairs arranged for lounging and a few end tables with unlit lanterns. Beyond that is another door, this one leading to the bedroom.
His bed is similar to mine, with a green silk canopy draped above it and an inordinate number of plush pillows. There’s also a wardrobe, a desk, a dresser, a tub, and a second fireplace.
But my eyes fall to the desk.
If Alistair were to keep secrets—which I’m certain he does—they would most likely be hidden in the furniture. As I reach for the drawers, my eyes flit to the nearby window. I can just barely see Alistair out in the dark, the sky a slightly lighter shade of blue as the sun gets closer to rising. He’s all shadows out in early morning, but I can see enough of him to know he’s stripped down to his pants.
Suddenly I’m grateful that he swims in the dark, because my cheeks are already flaming, and I think if I saw his entire upper body in full light, I would combust on the spot.
He looks so human striding out into the water. I wonder if he even feels the cold. He doesn’t pause as he walks deeper and deeper, finally submerging himself completely in the small lake.
As I watch him, a part of me almost feels bad for snooping in his space. Someone like Alistair certainly doesn’t trust many, and this is just proof that he can’t trust me.
But trust is a double-edged sword, giving both people the tool required to cut bone deep. That’s what makes it trust, believing that the other person will never use it as a weapon against you.
I’m confident neither of us will ever feel that type of safety with one another.
Affirmed in my decision, I yank the desk drawers open. I make quick work of my search, careful to put everything back exactly where it came from. This isn’t my first time snooping through someone’s things. But all I find in the desk are more notes about Alistair’s search for an artifact and a few letters from his mother.
Those I don’t read. I’m here to find anything that might indicate Alistair can’t be trusted, not to breach his emotional privacy.
His dresser is likewise empty of information. Though I do discover that he has almost as many shirts as there are days in the year. What a princess.
Next, I try his nightstand, but all he stores there is parchment and charcoal. I’m about to give up when I find a letter sitting under a book on a table in the sitting room.
I flip it open just to see who it’s from and my eyes catch on the name signed at the bottom.
Brother,
Another year of captivity under your belt. You must be quite the professional at handling isolation now. I’m disappointed to hear that you haven’t had any luck getting around the curse. I expected more from you.
But I’ve managed fine in your absence. The people are quite accustomed to my rule now. I daresay they have more fear for me than they do for their own God. It’s a pleasant feeling to say the least. But I have to admit that I haven’t done it alone.
I have a pet that does quite a bit of the dirty work for me, though it would be a useless mutt without my instruction. I’ll introduce you when you get home. Which I hope will be soon as I plan to make my move on the capital, and having you take my seat would do a great deal to ease my mind.
Take care, Brother.
And by the way, I have no further news in the search for mother. Whoever took her is going to great lengths to hide her from me. But worry not. I will bring her home.
-Your brother, Orrin, Duke of Roburry
The parchment shakes in my hand, and I have to try three times to fold it back up, replacing it on the table. Fear pulses through my veins and it’s with trembling legs that I collapse onto the couch.
I knew it was a long shot that Alistair wouldn’t have ghosts of his own. But I never expected that we would share one.
I didn’t even know that the duke’s brother was still alive. Orrin has always implied that his brother died while traveling, and I never questioned it.
What is Orrin up to? And more importantly, how long will it be before he comes here himself to search for me? The girls did say that only someone who shares blood with Alistair can enter the grounds while a woman is staying here. Meaning that Orrin can come for me at any time.
IfAlistair tells him about me. Which he doesn’t have reason to do. At least not right now.
I’m sure Orrin is aware of the string of girls that come to the manor. But to Alistair, I’m just another one of many. He doesn’t know that I’m the pet his brother speaks of in his letter.
He doesn’t know what his brother did to me, or how those memories feel like weapons poised for the kill, even now.
Three years ago…
When I arrived at the inn earlier, I asked for my meal to be sent to my room instead of eating downstairs, and I kept my hood up and gave a fake name. I haven’t opened the door since the maid brought the food, and I’ve ensured that it’s locked. Yet I still find myself drawing the curtains on the single window, pacing the floor, half expecting my past to pop up from the fireplace.
Speaking of fire…I cringe at the sight of the flames but force myself to stare them down. I can’t be afraid of fire for the rest of my life. It would be a tell that I can’t afford to have.
If I’m to start over, I can’t give anyone a reason to suspect me. Not even one so small.
“You’re fine, Stella,” I whisper, though the words don’t penetrate my anxiety or stop the shaking in my fingers. “It’s been long enough. If they were going to come for you, they would have already.”
But I can’t count on it. I’m so close to freedom. So close to starting fresh. Just one more day’s ride and I’ll be out of the country completely. One more day and I can breathe easy for the first time in years.
“Miss,” the housekeeper’s voice calls from the hall, making me freeze in place.
“Yes?” I call back hesitantly. My gut twists and my fear intensifies.
“I have some fresh linens for you. I’ve been informed by one of the maids that the sheets in your room weren’t cleaned.”
I inspect the bed, finding a few stains on the bedding. Admittedly, I’m not fond of the idea of sleeping on them as I can’t identify what caused them.
But I still hesitate in front of the door, unsure if it’s wise to open it.
“Are you alone?” I ask.
“Yes miss.”
But before my hand can grasp the handle, my instincts scream louder that this isn’t right. This establishment isn’t exactly the nicest on the street. I imagine they don’t have sheets that are free of stains.
They’ve come for me.
Heart racing, I grab my bag off the floor and bolt to the window, glad I’d been too restless to take off my shoes.
I have the window sash halfway up when the bedroom door bangs open. I don’t even turn to see the intruder, hurrying to throw myself out the window.
A hand latches onto my shoulder before I can manage it, and I’m yanked back into the room and thrown to the ground.
I twist to my knees, my knife already brandished in my hand. Five guards in black crowd the room, all of them with swords drawn. And one blocks the window.
Panic squeezes my chest, but I refuse to cry. The fight isn’t over until I have no breath left to breathe. I’ve survived worse.
Slow footsteps echo around the room and the guards part to allow a man to walk into the circle. He’s young, with dark hair and blue eyes. He’s objectively handsome with sharp features and a strong jaw, but a shiver runs through me at the sight of him.
There’s a danger about him, and I suddenly miss my stepfather. Somehow I think he was a kitten compared to this lion.
“Stella Renaud,” the man says, his voice deep and smooth—sharp like the edge off a knife.
“It’s Freemont,” I argue automatically.
The tilt of his lips is more of a threat than it is a smile. “Ah. I see.”
He walks to the bed, looking at it before deciding not to sit. Instead, he crouches before me, studying me with a scrutiny I don’t like.
“Do you know who I am?”
“The duke,” I answer reluctantly, swallowing back my panicked breaths.
“Indeed. And I am in need of some help.”
I don’t reply, my mind trying to find a way out of the room. The housekeeper is nowhere to be found and I can’t blame her. I would want to be as far from the duke and his men as I could too.
“You see, I’m on a trajectory, if you will. Toward glory.” He smiles like he’s trying to be friendly, but the expression falls far from it, looking feral. “But there are obstacles in my way. Obstacles that I cannot remove myself without making things messy. Which is where you come in.”
“I’m an obstacle?” I ask incredulously.
I’m not prepared for the hand that flies forward, smacking me across the face. It knocks me back and I sit on my backside, more shocked than anything. It’s the second time I’ve been hit by a man, and it didn’t bode well for the last guy.
I vow that it won’t end well for this one either.
“Do not interrupt. You have fire, Stella,” the duke says sternly. “That will serve you well in my employ. But that fire will be under my control. Do you understand? You may use as much heat as you see fit to accomplish the jobs I give you, but you will keep it in check where I am concerned.” He leans close, and I resist the urge to flinch. “Do you understand?”
When he raises his hand again, I cave. “Yes, I understand.”
“Good.”
“What…” I pause, waiting for him to nod. I don’t fancy getting hit twice. I’ll need to live another day if I’m going to make sure he never hits me again. “What do you want me to do?”
His unhinged smile returns. “Remove obstacles, of course. By any means necessary.”
And that was the beginning of my end. From that day on, I was a dog on a leash. I stole, destroyed property, spread lies, ruined reputations, anything the duke told me to do. I tried to resist him at first, but I learned quickly that the effort was futile.
Any attempts I made to reject his requests resulted in the deaths of innocents. I only had to be punished that way twice before I realized that obedience was best not only for my survival, but everyone else’s.
I was slow to let in the desperation, stubbornly resisting, but I eventually let my fire dampen. I learned quickly that fueling an inferno was dangerous and exhausting, but I could nurture a single ember. Keep it burning until the day came when I could let it loose in dry brush and watch it burn.
And when my moment came, I took it. I’m not going back.
And now that I know Alistair is Orrin’s brother, helping him around the curse has a whole different meaning. Because if Alistair is as bad as his brother, then he deserves to rot in the manor. And if he isn’t, then maybe he can dethrone his brother and save the rest of us the grief of Orrin’s rule.
But all I really know is that Orrin could show up at any moment, and if helping Alistair is my fastest way out, then I think I have to take it…