Chapter 19
I turned to my companion and put my hands on my hips. He was tucking the purse back into his pocket. “So I’m a bug catcher now?”
“You might be,” Cassian mused as he drew out the empty bottle from earlier, which he held out to me. “Unless you wish me to catch them again.”
I blinked at him. “You catch them-” My eyes widened, and my jaw hit the floor. I stabbed a finger at him. “That’s what you were doing in the field!”
He chuckled as he turned and strolled over to the corner, where he knelt down.
“Yes. I’m glad these little ones were so useful.
” He plucked them one by one and placed them in the jar.
The beetles scurried about inside the glass as he stood and set the cork in place.
“We should release them as soon as possible. They are not ones to like confinement any more than a free man.”
I turned my head to the garden. “I do have to go out to that, um, tilted toilet, so I could take them.”
Cassian held the bottle out to me. “They thank you.”
I took the container and studied the skittering bugs. My eyes briefly flickered to the outdoors. “Will they be alright in the garden? I mean, it’s not exactly a field.”
“Have you never seen a fieldshroud before?”
“No.”
“They will be fine,” he assured me as he patted the top of the cork and gave me a wink. “Nature finds a way to survive.”
I sighed, but tucked the telltale bottle in my pocket. “Speaking of nature, she’s calling me, and I’d better answer quick.”
I slipped out of the bedroom and tiptoed down the hall to the top of the stairs.
The voice of our furious host drifted through the halls like an ominous mist. “No, I don’t want the best wine served!
The stuff in the pantry is good enough for them.
” There was a brief pause while an unheard reply was given, and the master resumed his fury.
“No, don’t take out that rare steak! It’s for special occasions! ”
Stomping footsteps followed, and I scurried down the staircase and ducked through the open archway of the east wing.
Torquatus marched through the arch opposite mine and up the stairs.
He paused at the top to smooth out the wrinkles in his suit and face, and continued down the hall toward our room with a steadier and less stompy gait.
Not being familiar with the interior of the house, I slipped across the small foyer and out the front door.
The evening was creeping upon the village as I crept around the exterior of the east wing to the rear garden.
The short fence out front was succeeded by a taller, old wooden fence that surrounded the rear of the home.
Vines covered the wood, creating a cascading waterfall of greenery decked in purple flowers.
The air was filled with their gentle, perfumed scent, and a few late birds sang their sweet songs in weathered fruit trees that I passed under.
A stone path guided me to the back, where I soon found the leaning loo.
But first, I had a job to do. I popped open the cork and knelt, where I turned the bottle upside down.
The beetles tumbled out and onto a mess of yellow flowers tumbling out of an overgrown flower bed.
My eyes widened as I watched their bodies change color, from the dark green of their leaves to the brilliant yellow of the flowers.
The beetles climbed to the peaks of the highest petals and lifted their strange, smooshed noses into the air. Their shells parted and revealed wings with dazzling undersides. They lifted themselves off the flower and into the sky, where they soon disappeared from view.
“Wow,” I breathed as I watched them vanish.
It was at that moment that my sixth sense tingled, and I turned toward the house. I raised my eyes to the window of my room and noticed that the curtains swayed a little, as though someone had just been standing there and stepped out of sight.
My curiosity would have to wait. Nature called.
I tucked the empty bottle into my pocket and turned my attention to the tilted toilet.
The paint had long ago peeled, and the dozens of holes in the wood allowed more ventilation than I cared to think about.
I sighed, puffed out my chest, and marched onward.
A hole with a bucket awaited me. The squire certainly didn’t let his guests’ bottoms be spoiled by plush seating.
I hurried through my duties and stepped out just as a rear door on the ground floor opened. Miss Cornelia appeared, and she started before recognizing me. “Good evening, Mrs. Holt,” she greeted me as she curtsied.
“Good evening, Miss Cornelia,” I returned as I shut the door. “I think I owe you an apology.”
She blinked at me. “An apology?”
I nodded at the house. “I heard your master a few minutes ago. He didn’t sound very happy.”
Her hand flew to her throat, where she still wore the scarf. The young woman’s face fell, and she dropped her gaze to the ground. “Oh. You heard that.”
“Some of it,” I mused as I walked up and clapped my hands on her shoulders. She jerked her head up and her frightened eyes stared at me. They were big puddles of aspiring tears. She looked like someone who just needed a hug.
So I pulled her into a great, big, warm one.
She stiffened for a bit before melting into my arms. A sniffle escaped her, and she buried her face into my chest. I didn’t move. If she wanted to hide her sniffles, that was what I’d let her do.
“He’s not much fun to work with, is he?” I guessed.
Another sniffle. “No.”
“How long have you worked for him?”
“Since I was twelve.”
“And you’re what now?”
“I turned nineteen last fall.”
I winced. “That’s a long time.”
“Yes…”
An idea struck me that was so brilliant I almost pulled the young woman into a jig. Instead, I drew her to arm’s length and grinned at her. “Why don’t you come with us to the capital? You could find a job there. I’m sure you’re good at lots of things.”
She wiped a loose tear from one eye. “I…I do like cooking.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Really? Because I like eating. Do we get to try some of your cooking while we’re here?”
She bobbed her head. “Oh, yes. My master has commanded me to make my special chocolate pudding dessert.”
Our tender moment was interrupted by the rumble of my stomach. We both dropped our eyes to my gut. Miss Cornelia choked on a laugh while a faint blush rose in my cheeks.
I sheepishly smiled at her. “It looks like my stomach likes that idea.”
She grasped my hands and gifted me with a great big smile. “Then I’ll be sure to put in extra chocolate!”
“Are you sure your master will approve?” I teased her with a wink.
Her eyes twinkled as she shook her head. “No, but I shall do it anyway. If you will excuse me, I must hurry through this and make the pudding!”
Miss Cornelia slipped past me and over to the tilted toilet, but paused with the door clasped in one hand. Her back was to me, and I noticed she was slightly stiff. “Mrs. Holt?”
I turned to fully face her. “Yes?”
Her shoulders shrank a little as she turned her head to one side so that one reluctant eye fell on me. “May I…may I call you Grace?”
I stroked my chin with my hand. “That would depend?”
“On what?”
“On if I can call you Vesta.”
Her face lit up like a shimmering star, and she nodded. “Of course!” The next moment, her face fell.
I tapped the side of my nose. “And I’ll be sure not to do it in front of your master.”
Relief swamped over her. “Thank you so much, Grace.”
“And thank you, Vesta,” I returned.
She shut the door, and I made my way back into the house, though this time I took the door Vesta had used. The entrance led down a dimly lit hall where only every other hanging oil lamp burned.
“The skinflint doesn’t even want to pay for some decent lighting…” I murmured. My clumsy feet stumbled over a bump in the worn carpet. I glared at the offending spot in the spotty carpet and continued down the hall, stomping a little harder now. “He’s going to get somebody killed…”
I trudged up the stairs of the quiet house and slipped into the room. That’s when I was struck by a head of steam that wafted into my face. The hot hair invaded my lungs, prompting me to cough. “What in the world is going on?” I shouted as I furiously waved my hand in front of my face.
I cleared the air enough to see the room in full. Cassian stood behind a large tub from which the steam emerged. A towel was draped over one arm, and he wore an impish smile.
He bowed at the waist when he noticed me looking at him. “Good evening, my lady. I thought you would like a bath before dinner, and so had one drawn up for you.”
My filthy, aching muscles screamed at me to strip and dive in. There was just one problem, and it stood behind the tub. I pointed at him. “Are you going to be standing there the entire time?”
His twinkling eyes were now brighter than stars. “I could, if her ladyship wishes it.”
“Her ladyship does not wish it.”
Liar! That voice in my head was getting really annoying.
Cassian reached down and plucked something from the floor behind the tub. His hand emerged with a scrubber on a long handle. “But I might help you scrub your back.”
“Uh-huh,” I mused as I marched over to him and plucked the scrubber from him. “Among other places, right?”
“Any place that would require my attention.”
I stabbed the scrubber at the door. “Out.”
Cassian sighed, but draped the towel over a nearby chair, crossed one arm over his chest, and bowed low to me. He slipped past and closed the door behind him.
I felt a little guilty about telling him to get out. He had set up this whole affair for me. I strolled over to the basin and brushed my hand over the towel on the chair. Still warm with his touch.
What was I thinking? He’s a king, for heaven’s sake! I’m just a woman who got dropped off into a strange world where everything was either trying to kill me or eat me.
I slapped myself across the cheek and blinked wildly. That snapped me out of my love-sick mood, and I gladly forgot all my worries in the hot tub.