Page 9 of Thomas
Thomas tucked the book protectively underneath his arm.My home…The sentiment was nice, but truly, it would have been better coming from the lord of the manor himself. Thomas’s new environment largely depended upon what Lord Ashford had planned for him—whether he’d simply gone from one torture chamber to another, but this one dressed up nicer on the surface.
Only time would tell.
To his surprise, Thomas had dinner alone that night, in the smaller banquet room where he, Lord Ashford and his fathershad dined. When he casually inquired about Lord Ashford and whether or not he’d be joining him, Lennon bowed apologetically and told him that Lord Ashford was resting.
As was the case the next morning at breakfast.
And during lunch.
And dinner.
On his second morning at the estate, Thomas didn’t bother to ask. Instead, he opted to simply wait, lest he seem like a puppy eagerly anticipating the return of its master. He wasn’t even sure that he cared about this apparent cold-shouldering. Rather, it was peculiar. Lord Ashford had initiated this arrangement.Hewas the reason why Thomas was here, and now, he was nowhere to be found.
After picking over his breakfast, Thomas spent the morning slumped in one of the tufted armchairs within the cozy library, reading. It was another dreary day, heavy with fog. Rain droplets showered the windows in a soft, ambient pitter-patter that soothed Thomas’s mind.
When the door to the library clicked open, he pulled his attention away from his book to see Mira stepping inside.
“There’s a slight chill in here,” she said quietly. “Should I light the fire?”
Thomas turned his attention back to his book. It felt childish to outright ignore her when she asked him a direct question. “If you wish.”
She crept past him, as if not wanting to further disturb his reading. At the stone hearth, she bent to her knees and went about setting a dry log inside. Her dark curls were pulled into a low ponytail at the nape of her neck. The length of it trailed down to the middle of her back.
Mira had been young when she was assigned as Thomas’s primary maidservant—only seventeen at the time. When he wastoo small to understand the dynamics of Eden’s social system and hierarchy, he’d thought of her as a big sister.
Now, he thought nothing of her. He made no demands of her, and she was essentially free to do whatever the hell she wanted. For all he cared, she could leave and never come back.
“There’s some quiet commotion taking place throughout the estate,” she offered tentatively, glancing over her shoulder at him. “Would you like to hear about it?”
Thomas’s knee-jerk reaction was to say no out of spite, because it was obvious that she was baiting him. She knew he loved a good bit of gossip and would always tell him about the goings-on within his home estate and among the staff there.
Stubborn, he kept his eyes on the pages of his book. “Not particularly.”
Mira struck a match and set the small ember to the log. Slowly, the flame caught and licked its way up the wood. “So… is that a no, my lord?”
Thomas sighed, closed the book and set it in his lap. He rested his head back, resigned. “Go on, then.”
Mira smiled. She brightened, as if he were a genie that had just granted her sincerest wish. “Three things. First, Lady Rachelle is coming for a visit at the end of this week—she is Lord Ashford’s younger sister. Apparently, she’s… a force.”
Thomas frowned. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t asked because I don’t want to seem nosy. I am nosy, of course, but I don’t want to appear so this early on. Second, the chef is bewildered and a little stressed over you because, quote, ‘I keep sending him food and he keeps sending it right back.’ I expressed my concern over this as well… Sir Thomas, why are you still not eating? You need to recover your physical?—”
“And what’s the third issue?” Thomas asked, his expression flat. He was alive, wasn’t he? He was doing the best he could. He didn’t want to talk about it.
Mira took a breath with her lips pursed, as if considering whether she should push the issue. In the past, she absolutely would have nagged Thomas about this until he’d given in to her demands. Now, though, their relationship was too precarious. They were already treading on thin ice, and any sudden move might break them.
After a stagnant moment, she dropped her shoulders in defeat. “The third is that Lennon seems to be upset with Lord Ashford.”
Thomas’s eyebrow lifted. “Is he?”
Mira nodded. “I went looking for him this morning. He was inside Lord Ashford’s bedchamber, and I heard him yelling at Lord Ashford through the door.”
“Yelling?”
“Yes. Chastising him.”
Thomas blinked, totally taken aback. “About what?”
