Page 16 of Lady Tamsyn and the Pixie's Curse
Lord, but she’d been sweet. And soft. And curved in all the places that made a man itch tofeelmore.
Sighing, he gave up his task and strode away from his study and through the house. Tearing the leather strip from his hair, he let it fly loose, his headache easing and his breath coming more evenly once he reached the cloistered court that was still his mother’s favoriteretreat.
“Good afternoon, dear.” She beckoned him. “Are you finally ready to tell me what’s got you stamping about, grumpy as ahungrybear?”
“No,” he growled. He should have known she’d realized something was going on. The bad joints in her hip kept her largely confined to the house and this garden, but his mother still knew everything that occurred on the estate—andbeyond.
“Oh, dear.” Her lip quivered. “You truly must have beenanass.”
He laughed out loud, and then sighed. “Ifearso.”
And that was the crux of it, wasn’t it? The thought that had distracted him all day, in the same way that the memory of Tamsyn’s lips beneath his had tortured him all night. He had rushed to judge her. All jokes aside, he was a big enough man to admit when he’d been wrong—and he feared he’d been so lastnight.
He’d let his own shortcomings—and their old misunderstanding—alter his view of her. But he couldn’t judge her on what had proven wrong—or on his own failings. It was true that London did not appeal to him, but he didn’t know her well enough to judge what she would like, or where she wouldthrive.
“Mother,” he asked abruptly. “How did Aunt Morwen act when she discovered she had theSight?”
“I don’t think I can answer that question. She’s always had it. She was bornwithit.”
He frowned. “How couldyoutell?”
“Oh, she always saw things we did not, and talked to creatures we couldn’t see. Even in her cradle, she laughed at things that weren’t there. It’s a part of her, and always has been. Why do you ask?” She turned her head sharply. “And why do you notaskher?”
He kept silent and sighed when his mother’s grin spread acrossherface.
“So. She would knowwhyyou were asking, would she?” She sat back. “Whoisshe?”
“Are you sure you don’t share in my aunt’s talents?” He rolledhiseyes.
“Come now. Tell me all. You’ll feelbetter.”
He told her, and finished with a sigh. “So there it is and I don’t feel better, for I fear I judged her tooquickly.”
“I should say so. Most girls would be a blubbering mess, confronted so suddenly with such a circumstance. The fact that she’s not hiding in her room or tearing her hair up on the parapets speaks wellofher.”
“That thought did occur to me—too late.” He groaned. “I’m sorry for it—but I’m afraid I’ve bollixedeverythingup.”
“It does seem so.” His mother shook her head. “Now, what will you doaboutit?”
“I’m going to go for a walk and figure that out,” Gryff said. He pressed a kiss on her forehead and strode quickly through the gardens. A dilemma like this required the peace and consolation of the forest. He let his feet guide him toward the newly reacquired pixie barrow. Perhaps they would take pity on him and send him a sign, letting him know what heshoulddo.
He didn’t hurry, so he wasn’t yet at the turning that would lead to the barrow when he heard a strident barking. Not one of his great hounds, yapping like that. Curious, he left the path and pushed through the underbrush, moving toward the ceaseless racket. After a few minutes hacking, he emerged from a thicket at a curve in the stream. A high bank had formed and below the dark hole of an animal burrow stood a little black poodle, covered in mud and happily haranguing whatever creature might be hidingthere.
“By Merlin’s beard, I hope whatever is in there is worth all of thatcaterwauling.”
The dog stopped immediately and came to stand at his feet, hind end wagging in ecstasy, like he’d been waiting for Gryff allalong.
“Aye, then. I suppose you are the lap warmer of some lady guest atKeyvnor?”
The dogyippedonce.
“Well, then, come on,” Gryff sighed. “I did ask for a sign,afterall.”
* * *
“Tamsyn, there you are.”Her father approached as she entered the parlor, stopping her before she could go further. “I’m glad you are here. Marjorie is still in the village, drat the girl. I want you to meet a new arrival to the castle, a man here to consult with Hunt about a matter in the will.” He leaned in close. “There is no title, but quite a sizeable fortune, and he cuts a dash in Town—received by all, even the highest sticklers.” He nodded sagely. “This could be quite a useful connection for you girls, next Season.” Turning, he urged her on. “If notsomethingmore.”
Tamsyn gave a little laugh. “Fine, Father, I hear you.” The message could not be clearer—but neither could the image of Gryff fixed firmly inherhead.
