Page 58 of The Hunter
Argent nodded and climbed the few marble steps to the door. “Welton,”
The butler did not stand aside to let his employer pass. “It is customary, Master Argent, for the guest to enter the home first. Especially if that guest is a lady.” He flicked a meaningful, birdlike glance from dark glass-bead eyes, down to where Millie stood at the bottom of the stairs, her breath puffing from her open mouth.
“Oh.” Argent stepped to the side and waited.
Lifting her skirts, Millie hurried up the stairs and paused at the threshold before crossing it at the butler’s behest.
She didn’t know what she expected to find inside the stately mansion, but this most certainly wasn’t it. In the grand marble foyer, beneath the indecently expensive Irish crystal chandelier and lovely blue French wallpaper was…
Nothing.
Other than the faded rectangles and ovals on the paper, stained skeletons of a previous tenant’s art, Millie could find no signs of occupancy.
Her slippers echoed off the bare walls and floors with an eerie and empty sound. Where had he brought them? She turned to Argent with anxious questions in her eyes and he was looking about the place as though he’d never seen it before.
“Welton… I didn’t think about this, but I need you to find a place for the boy to sleep. I don’t think we have any—”
“Already done, sir. When you mentioned you might have guests I ordered a room for the little master here on the second floor overlooking the park. Follow me, if you please.” Hands clasped stiffly behind him, Welton took the left side of two grand staircases and Argent silently followed. He carried her sleeping son as if he were no heavier than an afterthought, and more precious than gold.
As she trailed them in the dim house, she couldn’t miss the way Argent’s muscles shifted beneath his coat, absorbing his movements and keeping the boy as comfortable and immobile as possible.
The gesture seemed so easy, so simple, and yet so incredibly out of character that Millie caught herself on a soft sigh.
Christopher Argent was truly an enigma. Empty house, empty eyes, empty heart… or so she’d thought.
But what if she was wrong about him? What if his heart was not so vacant as she’d initially assumed?
Intricate lanterns lit the hallways of his home, made ever wider by their lack of objets d’art, and only interrupted by thick, dark wood doors.
Welton paused at one on the left and opened it, sweeping a hand for them to step through. It became instantly obvious that he knew the visiting child would be male. Done in shades of green, the chamber couldn’t have been more of a contradiction to the rest of the house. Toys, models, books, and all manner of furniture surrounded the modestly sized bed like a besieging army.
“This was kind of you, Mr. Welton, but I don’t think we’ll by staying long enough to make all this worth your trouble.” Millie turned to the aging butler.
Welton sniffed, and looked down over his considerable nose. “Not at all, madam, it is my job to see to the needs of any guests under my master’s care.” Though his features were neither soft, nor friendly, Millie could swear that he winked at her.
“Well, that is appreciated.” Trailing Argent to the bed, she feared he’d trip on something or other, but her worry proved needless. She bent to pull the blankets back and looked on as he took care while settling Jakub beneath the counterpane.
The bed was more plush than she’d expected as she sat and began to undo the laces on her son’s shoes. Argent stood by and watched, his constant regard making her usually nimble fingers clumsy and slow.
“Why not leave the shoes?” he queried.
She looked at him askance. “I’m making him comfortable, and I don’t want his shoes to dirty the sheets.”
He nodded and waited until both boots were resting by the bed.
Standing, she began to divest Jakub’s tiny limp form from his jacket.
“Why make him comfortable, he’s already asleep?”
Exasperated, she stood, putting her fists on both hips. “Are you going to stand sentinel all night, or could you possibly allow me a moment with my son?”
His jaw clenched, and for a brief second, she worried he’d refuse.
“I could have lost him today,” she said more gently. “I just need a few minutes.”
As he glanced down at Jakub, his jaw worked to the side, then he nodded, shifting to one foot to move around her.
Millie’s sigh of relief was cut short by his giant hand gripping her upper arm with all the strength of an iron shackle. His eyes burned down at her, a molten flame melting the ice she’d begun to expect from his gaze.
