Page 18 of Tangwystle
But bile rose in my throat. I’d so adamantly sworn off finding myself in this position but now I feared his response.
I didn’t believe him to be like Rufus Clinemell, fucking his servants black and blue, but gentlemen can give parts of themselves away and never fear the consequences. Never care about the damage. About the tears and heartbreak, because they get to go to the next ball and find someone else to dance with.
“No. No, Tangwystle.” Baz took a deep breath, his chest swelling. “I don’t sleep with most women I meet.”
I wanted that to be true. “Just those that you can trap?”
Little fairies that should’ve known better.
He frowned, his whole brow wrinkling. “Do you think you are trapped?”
“I have a contract.” It would be hard to find such good terms elsewhere.
He looked down, gathering his thoughts. And then in a hoarse voice said, “I’m sorry, Tangwystle, I. . .”
“Why do you not sleep with most women you meet?” I don’t know where this question came from, but I wanted to evaluatewhere I stood in the lineup. If he didn’t sleep with women, high or low born, I wanted to know why.
“Because I am very particular,” he said evenly, meeting my eye.
Me. On my knees. Kissing his shoe.
I understood. I just didn’t understand what it meant for me. The fact that I liked it. That I wanted more.
“My safety,” I tried my best to explain, “is due to this Manor. I cannot risk being thrown out.”
Out onto the streets with the other scavengers. Trying to find work where I’d break my back scrubbing while trying to protect my backside from wandering hands.
“And you think I’d throw you out?” Baz shot me another injured look.
“Men can do whatever they like.”
“Do you know my guardian, the one who was to inherit this manor from Master Blackwell?” I nodded and he went on. “He has a cousin. He was meant to inherit the Manor, but when your Master Blackwell passed and the lawyer found the paperwork in Blackwell’s desk the name read out my guardian’s.”
I remember the lawyer asking if I’d seen anyone searching among Master Blackwell's papers.
“The lawyer took it to mean the Manor decided on a worthier owner. I cannot,” he said quickly as if the Manor might be listening to him, “say that I am worthy, but it passed to me upon his death. And it’s not kicked me out yet because I try my best to be worthy of it. Because at the end of the day, I am a guest in this Manor made of magic. Tangwystle, have you never noticed how this Manor responds to you?”
How daft could he be? That’s what I thought to myself, but he continued. “Have you never noticed how the windows open to let you hear the birds sing?”
No. I always shut them, thinking the latches were loose.
“The fires in a room go out as soon as you leave.”
The kitchen hearth was my main concern. And honestly, he couldn’t really believe a manor as wonderful as Blackwells took notice of little old me.
He tucked a piece of my dark hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering along my skin. “This Manor will kick me out well before it kicks you out.”
I know what you must be thinking, reader. Silly girl, here is a man telling you things to make you believe.
But the door shut, and I knew Baz might have magic, but it was nothing compared to the old, wizened power imbued in the Manor. Baz could no more control this house than I could. He might light the fires and use a bit of magic to help me dust, but he could never truly change the structure of the place.
And call me foolish, but I began to wonder. I’d treated this old Manor with its beauty and splendor, with care and respect. I’d polished the floors when others scuffed through. I’d washed the windows so light would shine through. I’d watered the garden and pulled weeds.
I’d given it all these things, not just because of a contract I’d signed as a servant. The home had provided shelter for me, and so I’d provided it with attention to detail. Master Blackwell loved his home, but he could no more keep up with it than a child knew how to tie his bootlaces.
“Tangwystle,” Baz whispered. “I do not take what is not mine.”
My stomach dipped. Yes, sometimes he ordered me to do things. But his stern voice did something to me. Fulfilled a craving I’d never wanted to examine.
