Page 82 of The Iron Earl

Lachlan looked at the plant bed she was marveling over. The green leaves looked the same to him as every other plant in the conservatory. For what little he knew of plants, he was nonetheless happy to find his wife so enamored of the room.

She glanced back to him. “But you are probably not in here to hear about blackberry bushes, are you?”

“Not exactly.” His voice went grave, even though he tried to keep his tone even. “I actually need to pull you away for a few minutes to come with me.”

Her eyebrows drew together, the glow in her eyes abating. “Is something amiss?”

“Yes.” Lachlan sighed. He’d debated on the walk to the conservatory how much he should tell her before they got to his grandfather’s room. The less the better. She would come willingly if he kept his mouth closed. He forced a weak smile. “But it just needs to be put to right, and then all will be well. But I need you with me to do so.”

“Of course.” She lifted her apron, wiping the dirt off each of her fingers individually. “Is he not well?”

“He is fine, at least for now.”

Until I kill the old buzzard.

Lachlan stretched the weak smile on his face.

Evalyn hurried to the bench and removed her apron, hanging it on a nearby hook.

He held out his arm to her and she joined him without word, even as hesitation settled into her gold-green eyes.

They walked in silence through the twisting corridors. Pausing for a moment at the threshold to his grandfather’s room, Lachlan took a deep breath, steeling his spine.

A smile—meant to reassure—twisted oddly on his mouth as he looked down at Evalyn.

Her eyes widened in alarm, but he gave her no time to react and pushed open the heavy oak door to his grandfather’s room.

His hand on the small of her back, he nudged Evalyn into the room, his footsteps behind her only pausing to close the door behind them.

With the heavy curtains drawn against the daylight, only the fire and the four sconces spaced on the opposite wall lit the room. His grandfather sat in his wingback chair by the fireplace, laughing at something the man sitting across from him had just said. The visitor sat with his back to Evalyn and Lachlan, only the corner of his elbow perched wide on the wingback chair he sat in visible.

Evalyn looked back over her shoulder at Lachlan, her eyes crinkling in confusion as he propelled her forward.

“Grandfather, we are here.” Lachlan stopped in the middle of the room, his hand on the small of Evalyn’s back sliding around to wrap her waist and tug her tight to his body.

His grandfather’s look swung to Lachlan and he lifted his cane, jabbing it in the air at his grandson. “Took ye long enough.”

Lachlan instantly bristled. “It took an appropriate amount of time.”

The visitor stood, stepping around the chair.

A gasp flew from Evalyn, her knees buckling.

Lachlan’s grip around her back tightened, holding her upright as he assessed the devil.

A shorter man, only just as tall as Evalyn, he was stocky with a protruding belly. What was once perhaps a distinguished face was now wrinkled with time, his hair half grey and standing in odd tufts from his head. Grey eyes that weren’t beady, weren’t pinched as Lachlan had imagined they would be.

Far too ordinary.

Not the slightest visible inkling of monster about him.

The worst kind of monster.

“Daughter, it is good to see you in fine health.” Evalyn’s stepfather strode across the room, his hands outstretched to her. He stopped in front of her, his hands clasping both sides of her face, patting her cheeks with far too much force. “We were terribly worried on your well-being.”

Evalyn jerked away from his touch, shrinking into Lachlan’s side. Her head bowed but her voice managed to stay steady. “Stepfather.”

A tremble ran through her, a tremble Lachlan could feel quite plainly against the side of his body.

---