Page 58 of Black and Silver

Minnie’s smile grew. “Do you?” she asked, feeling as though Carys could be a great friend.

Carys cleared her throat and did not answer, keeping her smile mysterious. “Would you like something more substantial than lemon tarts to eat?” she asked. “I could have supper sentup to you, if you feel the need to rest and recover from the last of your illness, rather than joining the boisterous family downstairs in the dining room.”

Minnie laughed. “Ordinarily, I would want to join the family,” she said. “But I think it would be wise to rest at last.”

“I believe so as well,” Carys said, winking for good measure. “I will leave you to it, then.”

A few more arrangements were made, particularly to inform Lawrence of her decision to rest, before Carys left.

Minnie wasted little time before climbing into bed, foregoing her nightgown, as it had been sent to be laundered with most of the rest of her things. Clarence and her blue gown still sat on the bed, though, and as she tucked herself between the sweet-smelling sheets, she turned to her side and addressed Clarence.

“Well,” she said, “I believe we might have found a safe place to land at last. We must rest now and regain our strength. I have a feeling that as soon as my parents arrive, the final battle will begin.”

She was certain of it, but knowing the end was coming did not prevent her from falling asleep almost as soon as she blew out her lantern, then sleeping as if she was safe in the arms of family throughout the night.

Chapter Nineteen

It would have been so easy for Lawrence to breathe a sigh of relief and think himself and Minerva safe, now that they had made it safely to Godwin Castle. He should have been deeply happy that Minerva chose to go straight to bed so that she might sleep off the lingering effects of her head cold. Being home should have resolved everything and settled his troubled spirits, particularly now that he had the statue with him.

Instead, Lawrence walked around the castle for the next two days jumping at shadows and mistaking every distant creak in the house for someone knocking at the door, announcing the arrival of Minerva’s parents, Lord Owen, and a parson.

“I do not know why you’re so worried,” Dunstan attempted to console him on the morning of their third day of being home. “Godwin Castle may be cursed, but Uncle Gerald is correct, it is our home territory. We are Godwins, and we will defend ourselves.”

Lawrence smiled affectionately at his cousin and clapped a hand on his arm. “You are the very best of men, Dunstan,” hesaid. “If there is any one of us whom the curse would not dare to affect, it would be you.”

Dunstan grew suddenly sober. “The curse has already destroyed my life,” he said, clearly believing that. His spirits seemed to immediately return to his prior cheer, and he added, “So perhaps it has already wreaked it’s havoc on our generation and will allow us to rest now.”

Lawrence huffed. “I very much doubt it. I have a terrible feeling deep in my bones that the moment the Llewellyns arrive with Lord Owen in tow, we will all experience the curse’s full effect.”

There was nothing anyone could do to convince Lawrence otherwise, even though his family attempted to assuage his worry with lively conversation, entertainments, and even parlor games.

Even Clarence was involved in the parlor games. Minerva was finally feeling more herself after two full days of rest and good care. She brought her skull down to the great hall with her after luncheon on the third day, much to Lord Gerald’s delight, and once introductions were made, the entire company fell into a game of hide-and-seek, where Clarence was hidden somewhere in the castle and everyone had to search for him.

It was childish, really, but the game also served the purpose of allowing the couples in the family to steal a few moments with each other away from the others without accusations of impropriety flying about. Lawrence suspected his father had arranged things specifically for that purpose.

He was beyond grateful when his and Minerva’s paths met in one of the tall, narrow towers at the northwestern corner of the castle, where archers had once fired out onto interlopers approaching from the mainland.

“Oh! Lawrence! I did not expect to find you here,” Minerva said, sounding far less stuffy and drippy than she had whenthey’d first arrived. “Alas, Clarence is not resting at the top of this small tower.”

“Oh, bother,” Lawrence said, his words sounding disappointed, but his expression as he continued the rest of the way up the spiral staircase to stand on a small landing one step down from her anything but.

Minerva’s responding laugh as she swayed toward him was low and throaty. The sound of it and the glint in her eyes as she slipped her arms over his shoulders was invigorating. He threw caution to the wind and circled his arms around her waist, standing flush against her. With Minerva one step up, it meant their faces were at exactly the same level, perfect for kissing.

He held back just a bit, though, smiling at her and enjoying the feeling of her in his arms.

“I trust your recovery is progressing well?” he asked in a soft, deep voice.

“It is,” Minerva said, keeping her voice at a rich, sonorous level to match his.

“And my family’s hospitality has been to your liking?” he continued, rubbing his hands across her back and pulling her closer.

“Your family has been magnificent,” Minerva said, bringing her sweet lips to within kissing distance of his.

“I see you have foregone your usual black today in favor of this delectable blue creation,” he said, using the excuse of brushing his hands across some of the more interesting details of the gown’s construction to touch her more fully. “Is it my imagination, or is this a Scandinavian style?”

Minerva’s cheeks flushed with desire, and she sucked in a breath as Lawrence traced his hand around some of the embroidery over one of her breasts. “I have determined that a change is in order,” she said with a catch in her voice as Lawrence’s tracing turned to gentle caresses.

“No more black?” Lawrence asked, dragging his eyes from the part of her he wanted to look at, particularly since the Scandinavian style involved low-cut bodices with only a thin fichu to cover the almost dangerous swell of her breasts, to her eyes.

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