Page 140 of Beyond the Cottage

“You look sad,” she said.

He wanted to tell her everything he was feeling, but instinct warned him not to. Or maybe it was cowardice. Either way, heforced a light smile and a shrug. “Still tired, I guess. But you’re welcome to wear me out any time you like.”

The clock on her nightstand rattled, and they both started. She scrambled off him to slap the brass button.

When the damn thing shut up, she stood. “Time to get ready.”

It took him a moment to remember what she meant.

The meeting. Somewhere between her steamy storytelling and sexy games, he’d forgotten about it entirely.

Ansel swung his legs over the side of the bed.

“We should shower first,” she said. “We smell like sex.”

His arm circled her waist, pulling her in until she stood between his knees, and he kissed her. Their tongues brushed, and he broke away, lightly squeezing her ass. She grinned over her shoulder as she went to the closet.

Their shower was much quicker than he’d have preferred. He only fucked her once against the tiles. When they were both clean and freshly dressed, they wolfed down breakfast and collected his case.

In the hack, she delighted him by crowding his personal space. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and she settled against his chest.

“I’m surprised the capitol building is open on weekends,” he said.

“Many senators don’t take days off. Nat’s a complete workaholic.”

“I’m not sure I ever asked—what is his affliction?”

She seemed to consider how to explain. “Have you heard of the Lyndale Manor Tragedy?”

Ansel searched his memory. “I’m afraid I haven’t.”

“That’s what the papers called what happened. When Nat was a kid, a witch got pissed at his older brother. To get revenge, she turned everyone on the estate into home furnishings.”

“She turned them intofurniture?”

“And other random shit. His parents became matched end tables, servants became mops, teacups, even a feather duster.” Her voice grew bitter. “I guess Nat was lucky he became a chair, since he at least has arms and legs. She turned his brother into a chamber pot.”

“Why would she do that?”

Gretta gave him a look that saidshe’s a witch, dummy.“Nat’s brother fell in love with her, probably via potion. His parents threatened to cut him off if he married some forest vagrant three times his age. He chose his inheritance.”

“What happened to the witch?” She must not be around if Gretta wasn’t hunting her.

“The bitch drank hemlock so she couldn’t be forced to undo the spell. She basically cursed them twice.”

“…And the others?”

Gretta swallowed and looked out the window. He held her tighter. While her relationship with the senator was complicated, she clearly cared for him a great deal.

“Almost everyone holed up in the manor because it was too hard to navigate society.” She picked at her sleeve. “They all burned in a house fire a few years after Nat left.”

“Fuckinghell.”

“Yeah. In the papers, it went down as a freak lightning strike, but the police report said it was arson from within. They…burned it down themselves.”

The carriage fell silent but for the sounds of traffic.

“I don’t know what to say.”

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