Page 70 of A Duke at the Door

The moment they were released from the thrall, the Lowell Pack rushed to Tabitha’s aid. Hands reached to lift her, to pat her shoulder, to straighten her skirts, to inspect her ankle, which was where she called a halt. “It is a mere sprain, nothing an application of a poultice and propping up on a pillow won’t cure,” she insisted.

Lowell and Osborn returned after failing to hunt down the lady author—lady villain, more like. Mr. Gambon was busily moving amongst those gathered, promising a meeting at the convocation stone, whatever that was, in due course.

Alwyn was nowhere to be seen.

That was not a problem of the first order. The pendant was: the effect that tiny stone and chain had on the populace was not to be denied. “Mr. Gambon,” Tabitha called, “I must ask you what just happened.”

The boar Shifter urged the crowd about their business and lent her an arm to lean on. “I suspect the stone is a locus of power for the serpentine class,” he said. “As you saw, none of us can get near enough to examine it.”

“I shall do so in private,” Tabitha said. “I would go to my healing shed and see to my ankle.”

“Let us help you, miss,” Mr. Padmore begged, blinking his large eyes.

“It is the least we can do,” Mr. Giles insisted.

“Gentlemen, you rallied the village and protected the cubs. You have already done as much as anyone could do.” They beamed at her praise. “I assure you it is not necessary.”

“Not necessary but well deserved,” said Mr. Beckett, in the way he had of reframing things. She hoped they would be friends; his insights always presented a unique perspective.

Tabitha’s erstwhile suitors made a basket of their arms, and Mr. Gambon set her gently into the center. Applause rang out, and the men carried her back to the cottage, her brother leading the way as though he were the lord mayor at the head of a parade.

She was set on a chair in the shed as gently as a baby was put into its cradle; there was jostling in the yard as more villagers sought entry. She made a face at Timothy, who herded everyone out with thanks and promises to keep them apprised of her recovery. Her escorts bowed and left, and she allowed herself to slump against the cushions, the pain in her ankle reaching its peak. She fumbled in her pocket for the pendulum when her brother returned.

“This stone, Tim, I am sure I have never seen—” Yet it was not Timothy in the door but Alwyn.

She hurriedly put it out of his sight. “Your Grace. I hope you were not affected by the sight of that odious gem.”

He said nothing. He stood there, simply looking at her. The clothing he sported was out of the usual run of his idiosyncratic regalia and more what any man would wear, even if still slightly too loose. He had eschewed a cravat as well as buttoning the shirt; his exposed throat was oddly evocative to gaze upon.

“Must you loom?” She rose, and he took a step forward.

“Must you throw yourself into danger without thought?” There was an increase of power around him she didn’t recognize. His eyes flashed gold, and his voice reverberated throughout the shed, deep and resonant, clear as a bell.

“I was the only one who could stop her.”

“You were not—”

“The entire company stood like statues, Alwyn, utterly enthralled. Even the Alphas could not move a muscle.” She limped to the high table and pretended to lean casually against it when, as a matter of fact, her ankle was throbbing. “Whatever sorcery she has at her disposal was enough to render you all powerless. And she escaped.” What if Tabitha was the only one who could pursue her? Even on two good ankles, she doubted she had a patch on the nimbleness of a snake.

“She can do no more ill, now that her crimes are known to all.” Alwyn’s characteristic growl had a depth to it, an added layer of gruffness.

“I will not take that chance. I will never take the chance with anyone I—” No, she would not say that, not like this. Whether or not she knew for certain. “You must go away from here, to escape her fate for you. She is relentless in her pursuit, and she is still at large.”

He shook back his hair, lusher than it had been even the day before. “You would be on the precipice of a declaration and then shun me?”

“I think only of your freedom, your safety.”

“I shall not take advice about safety from you, woman.” He looked to the side and seemed to be lost in thought. He canted his head and nodded, as though reaching a decision, and pinned her with that flashing amber gaze. “No, but I must admit, you did what I would have done in your place.”

“Then I shall leave.” This proposition did not please her as it once would have. “For whatever that is worth.”

“Your worthiness is beyond question. You are the only one worth anything to me,” he said. She moved away and winced. “Tabitha. You are in pain, and I would help you.”

“I can take care of this myself.”

“But must you?”

She turned her back on him and thought she heard him laugh, of all things. “Leave me be.”

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