Page 46 of The Courting of Bristol Keats
“They were pinching my feet,” she explained.
“Really? Now, that’s disappointing. I can probably take care of it, though. Sit down and put them on for me.” He motioned behind her.
She glanced over her shoulder.His bed?Not a chance. “I don’t want to trouble you. They just need breaking in. That’s all.”
He eyed her other hand and raised his brows. She had forgotten she was clutching the book Harper had given her.
“I brought it from home. Reading material.”
“And you hate to be without a book, even when wandering the halls.”
He was toying with her, she knew, letting her dig a deeper hole before he pushed her into it. It was time to stop playing his game and create her own. She knew something that might send his mind reeling in a new direction. “I’m sorry about your brother.”
The amused glint in his eyes faded.
There, that’s much better, Bristol thought, though she really was sorry about Cael. When it came to family, she didn’t like playing games. Still, it was good to see him caught off-balance for a change. He looked at her like she had struck him, no reply forthcoming, but then his jaw tightened and his expression grew infinitely more dangerous.
“Madame Chastain told us about him and your predicament,” she went on. “I’d be an angry pain in the ass, too, if—”
“Don’t act like you know me. You don’t.”
“I completely agree. But I’mtryingto know you, and the only thing you’re giving me to work with is anger.”
“I amnotangry.”
“Of course you are. You’re always angry. You’ve just become comfortable with it and can’t see it anymore. Don’t get me wrong, though, I’m not blaming you. My sisters are my world, and I’d be full of rage, too, if anyone hurt them. I’d do anything to protect them, so I think I understand at least part of your anger.”
She edged forward, her bare toes curling into the thick fur rug. “And today . . . I know I was less than impressive, but I’ll do better tomorrow. I promise I’ll do whatever I can to help you get your brother back safely.” Bristol meant every word and waited for a reaction, hoping for a crack in his armor.
The air grew warmer between them, and he stared at her like he was trying to see inside her mind. His expression softened. “And just how much art will that little promise cost me?” he asked.
Her stomach clenched like she’d been punched. She spun, and walked to the door.
“It’s almost dusk,” he called after her. “Wait in the hallway while I get dressed.”
Tyghan watched her leave, her bare feet padding across the floor, her shoes dangling from her hand.I’ll do better tomorrow. I promise.
In just a few words, she turned the conversation from her being an intruder caught in the act, to being a sympathetic confidante trying to gain his trust, to painting him as the wrongdoer in his own room. His blood burned with her condescending air. He still wasn’t sure what had happened. Her words tore through his head.You’re always angry.So what? He had reason to be and didn’t need to explain himself to her. Who did she think she was?
He stormed into the entry foyer where a large mirror dominated the wall.
“Wake,” he ordered. “What was she doing in here?”
The snake stretched to life, its coils rippling, eyes opening, blinking. It seemed like it was already a century ago that the intruder had disturbed his peace. “The creature that was here? It was lost, like a rabbit, it was. It wandered aimlessly, touching nothing. It said it was searching for a cat.”
“You spoke to her?”
“No. I heard the creature call out. But there was no cat. It lied. I followed it up the stairs to your study—”
“My study?” Sweat sprung across Tyghan’s face.
“Yesss. And then the creature fell to the floor, talking to the air. Addlebrained, it was. Or possessed.”
“What did she say?”
The snake’s golden scales shimmered as it shifted its position on the frame. It was trying to buy time. It had become distracted by the strong scent of ferret and gone in search of it, not hearing every word the creature uttered. It was all nonsense anyway. “It rambled, my lord. It made little sense. Pleading and yelling, saying something about a bargain, wailing into the air for books. Bewitched, I think. Not to be trusted, that one. Choke the creature, I can. Choke it dead. Shall I kill it the next time it comes?”
The king was quiet, and the snake grew hopeful. Oh, it hadn’t killed anything in ssssuch a long time. Not even a mouse.
