Page 44 of Monster Among the Roses (Fairy Tale Quartet 1)

I opened my mouth to keep arguing, because typical or creepy, the fact of the matter was he kept hurting her with his behavior, and I wanted it to stop. But Kit’s mother strolled into the room, all grins, followed by a scowling Lewis. Each carried a tray laden with food.

“Woohoo,” Mrs. Pan called cheerfully. “I sent Kit to tell you lunch was ready, but he said you were both hard at work, so I decided to bring you trays so you both will remember to eat sometime today.”

“And she forced me to be her servant boy,” Lewis muttered, following her to the table where they each set down their trays.

“Thanks, Mrs. Pan.” I abandoned the bookshelf I’d been anchoring to the wall, because the mention of food made my stomach growl. A quick check at the time revealed it was after two in the afternoon.

Damn, Isobel and I really had gotten lost in the project, hadn’t we?

“It was our pleasure.” The cook beamed at me, clasping her hands to her middle before she elbowed Lewis in the side, making him mumble something not so pleasant under his breath. Then she turned to take in the room. “I wanted to get a peek at your progress, anyway, and I must say, wow. You two are doing an amazing job.”

“Thank you.” Isobel neared the food as well, looking about as hungry as I felt. “I think it’s coming along nicely.”

“It doesn’t look like the same room at all. You can’t tell which ones are the old shelves and which are the new.”

Isobel and I shared a glance, pride glazing our eyes. We really had kicked ass on the room. I could point out a dozen mistakes I’d made, but overall, yeah, it looked fairly awesome.

“Didn’t there used to be a door over there?” Lewis asked, pointing toward a wall full of nothing but shelves.

Before we could answer, Mrs. Pan whirled toward him, scowling. “Shh!” she hissed. “It’s rude to ask a question like that.”

The old man only blinked at her before scratching his head. “It is?”

I chuckled. “It’s all right. And yeah, the door’s still there. Check this out.” I hurried toward the bookshelf so I could pull open the hidden doorway and reveal the other room to the cook and groundskeeper.

They were suitably impressed. Lewis even gave a whistle of awe. Then Mrs. Pan praised the rolling shelf ladder we’d installed the day before, right before she smacked Lewis’s hand when he reached for a grape sitting on one of the lunch trays.

“Don’t you dare steal their food, you old fart. You already had your lunch.”

“But you didn’t give me grapes,” Lewis whined.

Huffing, she grabbed hold of his ear and twisted, making him howl as she marched him from the library. “You want grapes, I’ll give you grapes. But you won’t be stealing them from either Miss Nash or Shaw. Do you hear me…”

Their voices became indistinguishable as they moved further down the hall. I stared after them, shaking my head and grinning. “They’re kind of like oil and water, aren’t they?”

Isobel shrugged as she popped her own grape into her mouth and took a seat at the table. “Love is a strange and curious thing.”

She lifted the lid off the tray that sat next to her bowl of grapes. The steaming mashed potatoes and sliced pot roast slathered in brown gravy made my mouth water, so I instantly sat across from her, even though her comment had me blinking out my confusion.

“Love?” I said.

She picked up her fork, only to pause and glance at me as if I was being the confusing one. “What? Isn’t it obvious? They’re totally crazy about each other.”

I pointed toward the opening of the library where Mrs. Pan had just dragged Lewis from the room by the ear. “We’re talking about the same two people, right? The cook and the groundskeeper.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I know exactly who we’re talking about.” Then she plunked a forkful of mashed potatoes into her mouth.

I was too busy gaping at her to dig into my own food. “But they hate each other. They’re always at each other’s throats.”

Isobel finished chewing, swallowed, then took a long drink of iced tea. As she sat the cup down, she answered, “I don’t know what to tell you; I guess that’s just how their relationship works. But Lewis has had a crush on Mrs. Pan since he came to work here. And she’s been trying for the last five years or so to hide her own feelings in return for him.”

I glan

ced down at my food and blinked some more. “Really?” All the while, I wondered why I’d never gleaned such things from them myself.

“I wonder if she feels guilty about falling for the next man who filled her late husband’s position here,” Isobel mused, her voice full of sorrow and sympathy. “Mr. Pan was such a warm, wonderful man. It can’t be easy for her to move on and love again. And it must be equally hard for Lewis to stand back and wait until she’s ready. I feel bad for both of them.”

Lifting my face to watch her as she ate heartily, I stared at yet another version of Isobel I’d never seen before. This intuitive, empathetic side was a wonder. But the more she explained Lewis and Mrs. Pan’s plight, the more it really did make sense why they treated each other the way they did.

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