Page 12 of The Secrets of Roan Island

I clutch the book Shemaiah offered tighter. Though I hold no hope it’ll provide what I need, it might prove interesting when I’m bored, as I surely will be with so much time before dinner.“It’s a wonder you’re able to experience the charms of such diversions then, it takes so long to wait for them.”

He laughs again, a delighted sound this time, and I’m beginning to think the man loves nothing more than joviality. “I like you, Professor Rose.”

I hum, wondering if that is in my favor or not. “I wouldn’t have known it yesterday when you tried to scare me.”

“Tried and succeeded.” He grins.

“It was rude.”

“It was,” he agrees, “but you’ve forgiven me, yes?”

“Time will tell.”

His smile widens with a raptorial flare, revealing straight, white teeth. “And will time tell with my brothers?”

“Tell what? Do I need to forgive them for something?”

“Oh. Goodness, that sounds titillating.”

I think of Noah in the hallway, that hungry look in his eyes as his skin skimmed mine. I can still feel the way he pressed close to me, my skirts up around my thighs, heart beating like a drum. Titillating is right, and I’m sure that’s what Jafeth is referring to. Rather than acquiesce to his game, I say, “Time reveals all, yes?”

He hums a note, much like Shemaiah did, though where the latter’s sound indicated boredom, Jafeth’s tone expresses a sort of eager foreboding that makes the hair on the back of my neck rise. The hallway is colder and darker than it was earlier. With an unsteady sigh, I wonder how long I’ll need to stay here before I find anything useful, before I’ll be able to convince Hammish Roan to give me a grant. I have a sense that finding a way back to the colony might be in my best interests.

Except when have I ever done anything that was in my best interests?

8

Noah

“What’s going on with the woman?”

I don’t bother looking up at my brother’s intrusion, remaining bent over the eyepiece of a microscope staring through the lens at the crimson blot on a petri dish. This sample is worse than the last, a disheartening realization that makes me all the more irritated. I use a narrow dropper to add a deep red liquid to the sample already under observation. The combination bubbles and smokes.

“Why aren’t you with her?” I snap, giving my brother a scathing look.

Though lights are currently dim for my experiment, they still illuminate my brother clearly. Shemaiah leans his shoulder against the doorframe, his long dark hair tied at the back of his neck, though a lock has escaped the leather. He looks as put together as he always does. His starched white shirt is crisp, the gray cravat perfectly folded. In contrast, I’m certain I look how I feel, wrinkled and tired. “I told you not to leave her.”

“Jafeth is there.”

I scowl. “And you think that’s better than her being alone?”

Shemaiah pulls out a pocket watch, the chain attached to one of the buttons on his burgundy vest.

“She’s not alone.” He snaps the watch face shut. “And you haven’t answered my original question.”

“I haven't.” And I don't intend to.

“You want her.”

I want to lie, but Shemaiah will suss it out. He always does.

“I’m… curious,” I hedge.

It’s a truth, but it doesn’t reveal the level of desire, which presently both unsettles and infuriates me. I spent most of the day experimenting, which usually steals time from me due to my intense focus. But today, the clock ticked by like a clogged artery, my thoughts always returning to what happened in the hallway, thinking about that snatch of lace kissing her thigh. Even now, I can feel my heartbeat quicken. I look down into the eyeglass, hoping to hide my reaction. “It doesn’t matter. We need to get her to leave before the new moon.”

Shemaiah’s steps tap on the concrete floor as he moves closer. “And why is that? Since when have the new moon parties—or who attends them—ever bothered you?”

"Do you think she would appreciate the debauchery of a new moon? Or stay quiet about the guest list?”

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