Page 54 of The Shadows Beyond
Heat shot across Cinn’s face. “Anything is fine,” he mumbled.
“Cinn,” Carrie repeated, slightly scrunching up her face.It’s a damn sight better than Cinnamon, woman.
Julien pressed the small of his back, and Cinn had to fight not to jump away from him at the touch, fiery anger coursing through his veins.
“Let’s sit,” Julien said, pushing Cinn towards a chair.
Cinn stared into the fire as Lucien set about pouring drinks for them from a sidebar. Usually, the fireplaces at Auri brought him great comfort—he’d never lived or even visited anywhere with an actual fire in London—but this one seemed set to reach out to devour him.
The sound of liquid being poured into glasses filled the suffocating silence. Lucien set a silver tray with four wine glasses onto a small table.
“Oh,Père, Cinn isn’t a fan of red wine. Do you have any beer?”
Julien’s face was the picture of innocence as Cinn shot him his most furious glare. “Red wine is absolutely fine. Great in fact,” he babbled, reaching for one. He searched his mind to recall Julien and Darcy’s conversations about expensive wine—which occurred with alarming frequency. “Is this Château Margaux?” he added, butchering the pronunciation.
After a calculated blink, Lucien emitted a brief, disdainful laugh. “No, this is merely a sneak peek at a new collection from an emerging vineyard. However, I can extend an offer forChâteau Margaux, if that aligns more with your preferences?”
“No, no, this is great.”
The look in Lucien’s eye told Cinn he hadn’t fooled him, so Cinn took a large gulp of his drink to prove he liked it. He almost choked.You sip wine, Cinn,he chastised himself, glaring at the dark red liquid. How could a liquiddryyour mouth?
“So, Cinn, how have you found the Aurelia Institute so far?” Carrie asked.
His mouth dried further, descending into sandpaper territory. “It’s been… okay.”
Carrie continued examining him, clearly expecting more than a three word answer.
“It’s very different from London. I mean, obviously London is a city and Auri is… whatever Auri is.”
“And Eleanor tells us you knew nothing of motecraft or of your rare ability until she came to collect you?”
Eleanor. How had he forgotten Eleanor was best friends with these people?
“That’s correct, ma’am.” Cinn cringed at his own odd formality.
Lucien swirled the wine delicately within his glass, savouring the moment before taking a deliberate sip. His piercing blue eyes, devoid of warmth, appeared hesitant to detach from Cinn, casting an unsettling sensation upon his skin. “I trust my son and his associates have been providing you with the appropriate level of care,” he remarked.
Grabbing onto the easier topic of conversation, Cinn said, “Yes, Darcy has been very welcoming.”Your son is a bloody nightmare, though.
At the mention of her, Lucien’s face lit up. “Ah, Darcy Beaumont!”
“Don’t start waxing lyrical about her again,Père,” said Julien, who had sunk so deeply into his armchair he was barely visible in the dim light. “Cinn may get the wrong impression of you.”
Carrie made a tiny sound of discontentment, covering it quickly with a sip of her drink.
A woman, dressed in a double-breasted chef jacket, apron and neckerchief, appeared in the doorway, greeting them in French.
“Marie,” said Carrie. “We have a special English guest with us this evening.”
The chef offered Cinn a wide smile. “Pardon me. Good evening. If you would please follow me into the dining room.”
With a sense that his hellish evening was only getting started, Cinn forced himself to his feet to follow behind the others.
“It’s a pleasure to see a new face,” Marie said as she showed them to their seats.
I bet it is.
“Hungry?” whispered Julien into his ear, his breath tickling the back of his neck.
