fight — because there’d be some handsome young man who comes along and rescues me.”
Kyleigh rolled her eyes. “That’s rubbish, Mandy.”
“No, it’s romantic ,” she said, shaking her knife in Kyleigh’s face. Then she flicked the blade to point to a goblet near her elbow. “Drink your tonic, miss. You’re far more agreeable once you’ve had it.”
Kyleigh’s tonic was actually just warm, spiced wine with a few herbs thrown in. She normally didn’t drink spirits, but lately it had become a necessity.
Her first few nights away from Gravy Bay had been complete and utter torture. She’d convinced herself that she was perfectly capable of settling her own heart. She had time on her side, after all. But her soul seemed to feel differently.
If Kyleigh ever managed to fall asleep, it was only to be jerked awake moments later — startled by the violent heaving of her chest. Gasps would rake her throat raw; tears pushed their way out and ran in burning lines down her face. She would wrap her arms around her middle, sometimes digging her nails in until she bled. Once, she’d screamed so loudly that Crumfeld had sent the guards to her room, convinced that she was being murdered.
Eventually, her chest would stop heaving and her sobs would quiet. But the next morning, she would be nearly too sore to walk. Her body would feel like someone had stripped off her skin and beaten her innards with poles.
It was on one such morning that she’d stumbled down the stairs and nearly run into Mandy — who’d taken one look at her before nodding knowingly. “I’ve got something for that, miss. You come see me after dinner.”
Kyleigh did, and Mandy’s spiced wine tonic had turned out to be just the thing to quiet her … well, Mandy called them her fits . Kyleigh didn’t know what to call them. All she knew was that they hurt worse than an axe to the face.
She’d just brought the goblet to her lips when the chattering in the kitchen came to an abrupt halt. The women were suddenly very focused on their chores — and very intent on not being noticed.
Kyleigh groaned when Crumfeld swept through the crowd and made a straight line for her counter. He had his bandaged hand propped against his chest and a rather peeved look on his face. She thought she might be in for it.
“But I don’t want to eat in the dining room,” she said as he approached. “It’s lonely in there —”
“I’m not here about that,” he said swiftly. “Though we will discuss it later. And in the future, I should like to see some vegetables on your plate,” he added, wrinkling his nose at her nearly-diminished mountain of venison. He straightened his coat hems and glanced about him quickly. “There’s a guest here to see you, Lady Kyleigh. I have him waiting in the library.”
She sighed inwardly. It was likely just another merchant trying to get her to buy a dress. Or perhaps a curious noble here to see if the rumors were true — if Lady Kyleigh really was as beautiful as her manners were odd. There had actually been a few of those.
But as she rose to go deal with whoever it was, Crumfeld gripped her arm tightly — something he never did. So Kyleigh was already alert when he leaned forward and whispered:
“This man … he is no ordinary man. He’s dangerous, and my guess is that he means you great harm. Kill him quickly.”
Chapter 7
The Lion and the Chandelier
Very rarely did Kyleigh ever get permission to kill someone. And she certainly never expected to get permission from Crumfeld — especially when he often complained about how difficult it was to get bloodstains out of the rugs.
So if Crumfeld was willing to risk irreparable damage to his furnishings, she knew the man waiting for her in the library must be very unsavory, indeed.
“After I present you, I’ll find Shamus and have him bring the guard to your aid,” Crumfeld said, straightening his collar as they arrived at the library doors.
Kyleigh rolled her eyes. “That’s rubbish, Mandy.”
“No, it’s romantic ,” she said, shaking her knife in Kyleigh’s face. Then she flicked the blade to point to a goblet near her elbow. “Drink your tonic, miss. You’re far more agreeable once you’ve had it.”
Kyleigh’s tonic was actually just warm, spiced wine with a few herbs thrown in. She normally didn’t drink spirits, but lately it had become a necessity.
Her first few nights away from Gravy Bay had been complete and utter torture. She’d convinced herself that she was perfectly capable of settling her own heart. She had time on her side, after all. But her soul seemed to feel differently.
If Kyleigh ever managed to fall asleep, it was only to be jerked awake moments later — startled by the violent heaving of her chest. Gasps would rake her throat raw; tears pushed their way out and ran in burning lines down her face. She would wrap her arms around her middle, sometimes digging her nails in until she bled. Once, she’d screamed so loudly that Crumfeld had sent the guards to her room, convinced that she was being murdered.
Eventually, her chest would stop heaving and her sobs would quiet. But the next morning, she would be nearly too sore to walk. Her body would feel like someone had stripped off her skin and beaten her innards with poles.
It was on one such morning that she’d stumbled down the stairs and nearly run into Mandy — who’d taken one look at her before nodding knowingly. “I’ve got something for that, miss. You come see me after dinner.”
Kyleigh did, and Mandy’s spiced wine tonic had turned out to be just the thing to quiet her … well, Mandy called them her fits . Kyleigh didn’t know what to call them. All she knew was that they hurt worse than an axe to the face.
She’d just brought the goblet to her lips when the chattering in the kitchen came to an abrupt halt. The women were suddenly very focused on their chores — and very intent on not being noticed.
Kyleigh groaned when Crumfeld swept through the crowd and made a straight line for her counter. He had his bandaged hand propped against his chest and a rather peeved look on his face. She thought she might be in for it.
“But I don’t want to eat in the dining room,” she said as he approached. “It’s lonely in there —”
“I’m not here about that,” he said swiftly. “Though we will discuss it later. And in the future, I should like to see some vegetables on your plate,” he added, wrinkling his nose at her nearly-diminished mountain of venison. He straightened his coat hems and glanced about him quickly. “There’s a guest here to see you, Lady Kyleigh. I have him waiting in the library.”
She sighed inwardly. It was likely just another merchant trying to get her to buy a dress. Or perhaps a curious noble here to see if the rumors were true — if Lady Kyleigh really was as beautiful as her manners were odd. There had actually been a few of those.
But as she rose to go deal with whoever it was, Crumfeld gripped her arm tightly — something he never did. So Kyleigh was already alert when he leaned forward and whispered:
“This man … he is no ordinary man. He’s dangerous, and my guess is that he means you great harm. Kill him quickly.”
Chapter 7
The Lion and the Chandelier
Very rarely did Kyleigh ever get permission to kill someone. And she certainly never expected to get permission from Crumfeld — especially when he often complained about how difficult it was to get bloodstains out of the rugs.
So if Crumfeld was willing to risk irreparable damage to his furnishings, she knew the man waiting for her in the library must be very unsavory, indeed.
“After I present you, I’ll find Shamus and have him bring the guard to your aid,” Crumfeld said, straightening his collar as they arrived at the library doors.
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