Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Anthony
Saltwick House
Something was wrong.
Many things were wrong, starting with his person. He had not been in control of his faculties that morning. If Nina had not stabbed him, he would have torn that farmer to pieces.
The long walk helped him regain a sense of self.
Nina’s chattering and her persistent questions kept him from dwelling on the wrongness in his body.
Wrong teeth. Wrong eyes. His eyes rolled, they did not move properly.
His skin felt like it was the wrong size and wanted to squeeze the very breath from his body.
The mountain ash tonic had helped numb him, but it was no solution.
He needed to feel correct with himself again.
Underneath the scales and the teeth and all the changes forced upon his body was something deeper, something inside him that compelled him to go home, pulling him in the direction of Saltwick. It was a constant hum, growing louder until it could no longer be ignored and he returned home .
Now that he was here, it wasn’t right. The hum stopped, finally content, but the moment he passed through the gates, his body was on alert.
He was familiar with the sensation, that tension between violence and one’s impending mortality. Unable to stop what was coming and hoping it spared him.
That was how he felt now, like he was being stalked by something old and terrible.
“The spawn returns,” his cousin said.
“Roderick,” Anthony replied. “You’re short an eye.”
Roderick’s one eye narrowed and his lips pressed together. Clearly, he was not amused. “Madeline said you would return. Come in.”
“Madeline’s here?” Anthony rushed in, his shoulder bumping into Roderick’s arm. “I must speak with her at once.”
“She’s not receiving visitors, and you’re in no condition.” Roderick stepped inside, allowing Nina entrance.
The foyer was dark and colder than the outside. This was wrong.
“You smell foul and you are covered in dust. Do you ever polish your boots? I thought the military had proper hygiene standards,” Roderick said.
Anthony looked down at his dirty boots. Of all things worth mentioning, his boots were what Roderick chose? He failed to mention Anthony’s aquatic disposition. “We had a spot of bother.”
“Did a mob lynch you?”
Anthony did not appreciate the condescension in Roderick’s tone, like he found it amusing. “I’ll have you know?—”
“Our riverboat sank,” Nina said, speaking before Anthony could say something regrettable.
He needed to speak with Madeline. He needed the cure. He would get neither if he immediately picked a fight with his cousin the moment he crossed the threshold.
“No one would hire us a coach or even sell us provisions. We walked from Wilmouth with only what is on our backs,” he said, forcing a congenial smile on his face. It felt as wrong as anything else in this cursed place. “We seek respite, cousin.”
The door swung closed, the thunk ringing throughout the hall.
Saltwick was silent. The sun had just set, the kitchen should be preparing dinner. Servants laying the table and stoking fires, giggling quietly as they shared the latest gossip.
Anthony remembered the house being a hive of activity. Now, it was empty. No light beyond the one Roderick held. No aroma from the kitchen. Not a whisper of hushed gossip between the servants as they went about their tasks. The house felt abandoned.
“I’ll have Mary prepare your rooms. It shouldn’t be long. Mrs. Marsh likes to keep them ready for guests.” Roderick led them into the dark and up the stairs. Dust stirred with every footstep.
“Mrs. Marsh? She must be a hundred years old.” The housekeeper had been quite elderly when he was a child. He couldn’t imagine her now.
“Mrs. Marsh tried retirement for a month before deciding it wasn’t for her and I’m glad for it.
The house wasn’t the same without her,” Roderic said.
“We enjoy hot water on demand from the boiler, though the plumbing does make a racket. Do not be alarmed. While you have a bath, I’m sure there are some old things for you to wear. ”
“That’s very kind. Thank you,” Nina said.
Anthony followed, unease growing with each step.
Nina
A bath. Finally.
Nina sank into the hot water with a groan.
The bathing facilities were not the most modern.
From what she had seen of the house, nothing about it could be considered modern, but at least it had running water.
Each individual room came with a private water closet but there was a shared bathing chamber at the end of the corridor.
It was stocked with bath soap and towels and hot water gushed from the faucet. She didn’t care about anything else.
She reeked of sweat and stagnant river water and scrubbed vigorously.
The soap smelled cloyingly of roses and tickled her nose.
It was an old-fashioned scent, the heavy perfume favored by two generations ago, including her grandmother.
Rather than remind her pleasantly of home and family, the rose -scented soap highlighted the antiquated nature of the house.
Saltwick felt abandoned. A thick layer of dust coated the bar of soap and the towels looked threadbare. A quick rinse salvaged the soap, and she’d worry about the state of the towels when she was finished.
Suds dribbled down her forehead and into her eyes. She dipped over the water to rinse before resuming the scrub of her scalp.
A knock sounded at the door.
“Nina? May I enter?” Anthony asked, his voice muffled by the wood.
“Come.”
He entered wearing a bathrobe and had another draped over his arm. “I thought you might appreciate a robe. You took off before Mary could deliver this. Unless you intended to walk stark naked down the hall.”
“I honestly hadn’t thought that far ahead,” she confessed. She wasted no time before drawing herself a bath. She shed her filthy clothes in a pile by the door and grabbed the soap.
“Are you using bar soap on your hair?” His tone implied mortification but she glanced over her shoulder to check. He could be teasing her.
Yes, mortified.
“I couldn’t find any shampoo,” she said. “I’m sure you’ve done worse in the field, Major Pearson.”
“Dunking my head in a bucket of water sufficed.” There was a rattle of bottles being moved and then the bar of soap was plucked from her hand. “Stop that at once.”
“It’s fine.”
“You may not care if you smell of a hot house, but I do. I found the shampoo. Now, lean back.”
She complied. Anthony worked a lather between his hands and then massaged her scalp.
It was nice.
She slid farther down into the water.
Very nice.
His fingers worked at the knot of tension at the base of her skull and the back of her neck. Her shoulders relaxed and lowered. Tension melted away into the hot water.
“The military did not teach you to do that,” she said.
Using a cup, he rinsed the lather from her hair. “I’m a man of many talents. Now the conditioner.”
Carefully, he worked the conditioner into the strands of her hair.
“Can you cut hair? Do a hot shave? You might have a second career as a barber,” she said.
“My client list is very exclusive.”
“How many are on the list?”
“Just one and I don’t believe she requires a hot shave, but I won’t judge.”
Nina laughed. “A joke. Wonders never cease.”
He rinsed the conditioner and pronounced her done. She stepped out of the bath into a towel. Sufficiently dried, she put on the robe and dried her hair with another towel while he drained and refilled the tub.
He shed his own robe and allowed Nina to remove the bandage and inspect the wound.
“Healing nicely,” she pronounced. There was a gash in the scales, exposing his original skin that she had stitched together. The edges were red but otherwise not warm to the touch and showed no obvious signs of infection.
Anthony slipped into the water, color returning to his toes and washing over him until he was entirely blue-green.
She handed him a fresh washcloth and the bar of rose-scented soap. “You’ll smell like a hot house.”
He sniffed the bar. “Smells like my grandmother.”
“I’ll leave you be.” She should find her room. Hopefully, the housekeeper had found a change of clothes for her. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
He reached out, grabbed the hem of the robe as she passed. “Stay.”
She hesitated.
“I don’t like being alone in this place,” he said.
“Alright.” She pulled a chair over the edge of the tub, carefully sitting to preserve her modesty. The robe was rather short. “Tell me about the house.”
“It’s a house.” He worked the soap into a lather on the cloth and scrubbed his arms.
“Yes, it’s obviously a house, but it’s something else too. Can’t you feel it?”
“It is the same. Saltwick never changes,” he said, sounding as if he recited the phrase from a long-buried memory.
“But it should. You’re older. It should feel different. You’re different. Taller at the very least. The place should seem smaller.”
“Saltwick never changes,” he repeated.
Nina leaned forward, putting her elbows on the rim of the tub. “What an odd thing to say.”
“If we are comparing odd houses, you do have a dungeon.”
She playfully splashed water in his direction. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Saltwick has a dungeon.”
“We do have secret tunnels.”
“Hardly a secret if you know about them.”
“They were used for smuggling back in the day,” Anthony said, boyish excitement creeping into his voice. It was charming.
“And how much time did you spend exploring these tunnels as a child?”
“I never got very far. The housekeeper always found me out.”
Nina chuckled, more amused by the annoyance in his tone than the image of a young Anthony thwarted by an elderly Mrs. Marsh.
He reached for her hand, holding her by the wrist. “I like it when you laugh.”
“Existence would be a misery without humor,” she said. “You should laugh more.”
“I am your acolyte.” He tugged on her hand, pulling her forward. His lips captured hers.
Nina leaned into the kiss. This wasn’t the hurried, hungry exchange from last night. That had been adrenaline and a need for reassurance. This was something else. Something sweet. Tender. Emotions she never expected to associate with Anthony Pearson.
When she pulled away, he said, “I’ve wanted to do that all day.”
“You should have,” she replied, which surprised her.
“And risk being stabbed again?”
“Love is dangerous.” Was that what this was? She certainly felt as if she were in danger. The whole situation was perilous. Yet here she was, flirty. “Aren’t I worth the risk?”
“Without a doubt.” He surged up, water splashing over the edge of the tub onto the floor and grabbed her robe.
Laughing, she gripped the tub’s rim to keep from falling in. Nose to nose, they were perilously close to another kiss. She didn’t mind.
“There are things I want to do to you,” he said.
Despite the several activities she also desired to perform together, she had to ask, “Are you sure this is not a bond? Only a few weeks ago, you could not stand me.”
“We’ve been over this. My feelings for you have been clear for some time.” Black eyes held her own as he gently stroked the side of her face. “Allow me to show you.”