Spellbinder
Page 62
She fisted her hands in his shirt. “Be careful.”
While his expression had turned grim, his eyes warmed. “And you as well.”
He kissed her one more time, a quick, burning caress of the lips that made her body pulse. In one swift movement, he pulled away and slipped out of her door.
The sense of his presence lingered in the room for a few moments. Then she felt the chill of the early morning on her skin and shivered.
I hate everything and everyone, she thought savagely. If fact, I’m going to live for the opportunity to rip off somebody’s head today.
As tired as she was, the thought of the danger to Morgan—to both of them—if she didn’t clear her room of his scent fueled her with adrenaline. She scooped up the blanket, the clothes she had worn, and the clean dress, and headed for the wash rooms.
This time, early as it was, she wasn’t so lucky about privacy. Several of the castle servants were using the rooms, both men and women. Self-conscious and wary, she collected the soap she needed and found a tub where she could work, but while she could sense the others casting curious glances at her, they left her alone.
As before, she washed everything else first. The clothes and the blanket were remarkably easy. After she plunged them into the water, she scrubbed them with the soap to be safe, and when she lifted them out, almost all the water ran off them, leaving them slightly damp. They would be dry before the day was over.
Then she washed herself, dressed and brushed her teeth. When she was sure she had thoroughly cleaned everything, she gathered everything up and headed back to her room.
As she stepped out of the wash room, she discovered Warrick standing with another man at the intersection of two hallways nearby. Another pulse of adrenaline hit, making her heart pound and her hands shake.
Ducking her head, she headed for her room. The last thing she needed was a confrontation with Warrick. She wanted to bite somebody’s head off, but in his case, she might be biting off more than she could chew.
But he clearly didn’t have mischief on his mind that morning. Instead, as she passed by, she heard him mutter to the other man, “I swear by the gods, I caught a hint of Morgan’s scent.”
“But he hasn’t been seen, or scented, anywhere since we know he left Avalon,” the other man said. He carried a pile of clothes under one arm and looked as if he were headed to the wash rooms.
Sid’s stride hitched. When she thought of how close she had come to them being able to scent Morgan on her body and clothes, her heart jumped to her throat. A few feet down the hall, she paused and bent, pretending to adjust the heel of her shoe.
Surreptitiously, she glanced behind her, but neither man paid any attention to her. She wasn’t a threat, and she wasn’t important—she was just another servant moving about, doing her chores.
“I’m not crazy,” Warrick snapped. “I know what I smelled.”
“I believe you,” the other man replied with a shrug. “But Morgan has also wandered this castle for centuries. Like so many others, his scent must be imbedded in the stones. To be sure, we need to do another circuit around the castle and the town. That’s going to be the only real test of accuracy. He couldn’t have left a fresh scent in here without leaving one out there, right?”
A shiver went down her spine as she listened. Morgan had been alive—had been a slave—for centuries? She could hardly fathom what it must be like to live for so long. What he had witnessed and experienced.
“I don’t want to wait to gather the other Hounds together,” Warrick told the other man. “You and I should head out right away.”
As the two men strode down the other hallway, Sid slowly straightened. Fear tightened her stomach. If they had chosen to go down the hallway that led to her room, they might have scented Morgan had been in there.
If only there was some way she could warn Morgan… but there wasn’t. She had to trust he was smarter and wilier than the other Hounds and he could remain hidden from their searching.
In the meantime, she needed to get the cleaning supplies from the chatelaine and thoroughly clean her room.
By the time she had finished, her room was filled with the robust scents of cedar and lemon. To be on the safe side, she mopped down the hallway in both directions. Working quickly was as decent a workout as a three-mile jog.
After she put away the cleaning supplies, she went begging for a breakfast she could take with her to the music hall. Triddick gave her a strip of bread that had been wrapped around cheese and meat and then baked. Her empty stomach rumbled at the appetizing scent.
“Thank you.” She gave him a smile.
He nodded to her. “I hear your audience will be held in the great hall. I look forward to your performance.”
Really? Why had he heard that before she had? Angling her jaw out, she felt ready to bite someone’s head off again, but it wasn’t fair to take out her bad temper on him. Pivoting on her heel, she strode to the music hall.
Once the door closed behind her, the privacy of the long, empty room was like a soothing balm, and her angry energy faded. She had come to think of this hall as “hers,” and she would miss giving up the private sanctuary when Isabeau’s music master returned.
Sitting at the table, she ate part of her breakfast to ease the empty ache in her middle. Then she shoved the rest to one side and buried her head in her hands.
Her body ached all over with remembered pleasure. She thought of the things she and Morgan had done to each other throughout the heated night, and need pulsed through her again.
This obsession with him was the height of insanity.
But she had never been successful at controlling her obsessions…
Tiredness hit, and she slumped. She longed to curl up on the couch to take a nap, but today, of all days, was going to be unpredictable. Kallah or someone else might come in at any time to announce she would be playing in the great hall.
She could never afford to forget her behavior was being watched.
That feeling of being watched—it was in her bones, a prickle at the nape of her neck…
A sudden conviction struck. Suddenly, she was sure someone was watching her, even though she was supposedly alone.
There was no magic to it, just good old human intuition.
Pushing to her feet, she turned in a circle and studied the seemingly empty room. The huge, intricate tapestries did not reveal any bulge. Instead, they lay flat against the walls, just as they should.
While his expression had turned grim, his eyes warmed. “And you as well.”
He kissed her one more time, a quick, burning caress of the lips that made her body pulse. In one swift movement, he pulled away and slipped out of her door.
The sense of his presence lingered in the room for a few moments. Then she felt the chill of the early morning on her skin and shivered.
I hate everything and everyone, she thought savagely. If fact, I’m going to live for the opportunity to rip off somebody’s head today.
As tired as she was, the thought of the danger to Morgan—to both of them—if she didn’t clear her room of his scent fueled her with adrenaline. She scooped up the blanket, the clothes she had worn, and the clean dress, and headed for the wash rooms.
This time, early as it was, she wasn’t so lucky about privacy. Several of the castle servants were using the rooms, both men and women. Self-conscious and wary, she collected the soap she needed and found a tub where she could work, but while she could sense the others casting curious glances at her, they left her alone.
As before, she washed everything else first. The clothes and the blanket were remarkably easy. After she plunged them into the water, she scrubbed them with the soap to be safe, and when she lifted them out, almost all the water ran off them, leaving them slightly damp. They would be dry before the day was over.
Then she washed herself, dressed and brushed her teeth. When she was sure she had thoroughly cleaned everything, she gathered everything up and headed back to her room.
As she stepped out of the wash room, she discovered Warrick standing with another man at the intersection of two hallways nearby. Another pulse of adrenaline hit, making her heart pound and her hands shake.
Ducking her head, she headed for her room. The last thing she needed was a confrontation with Warrick. She wanted to bite somebody’s head off, but in his case, she might be biting off more than she could chew.
But he clearly didn’t have mischief on his mind that morning. Instead, as she passed by, she heard him mutter to the other man, “I swear by the gods, I caught a hint of Morgan’s scent.”
“But he hasn’t been seen, or scented, anywhere since we know he left Avalon,” the other man said. He carried a pile of clothes under one arm and looked as if he were headed to the wash rooms.
Sid’s stride hitched. When she thought of how close she had come to them being able to scent Morgan on her body and clothes, her heart jumped to her throat. A few feet down the hall, she paused and bent, pretending to adjust the heel of her shoe.
Surreptitiously, she glanced behind her, but neither man paid any attention to her. She wasn’t a threat, and she wasn’t important—she was just another servant moving about, doing her chores.
“I’m not crazy,” Warrick snapped. “I know what I smelled.”
“I believe you,” the other man replied with a shrug. “But Morgan has also wandered this castle for centuries. Like so many others, his scent must be imbedded in the stones. To be sure, we need to do another circuit around the castle and the town. That’s going to be the only real test of accuracy. He couldn’t have left a fresh scent in here without leaving one out there, right?”
A shiver went down her spine as she listened. Morgan had been alive—had been a slave—for centuries? She could hardly fathom what it must be like to live for so long. What he had witnessed and experienced.
“I don’t want to wait to gather the other Hounds together,” Warrick told the other man. “You and I should head out right away.”
As the two men strode down the other hallway, Sid slowly straightened. Fear tightened her stomach. If they had chosen to go down the hallway that led to her room, they might have scented Morgan had been in there.
If only there was some way she could warn Morgan… but there wasn’t. She had to trust he was smarter and wilier than the other Hounds and he could remain hidden from their searching.
In the meantime, she needed to get the cleaning supplies from the chatelaine and thoroughly clean her room.
By the time she had finished, her room was filled with the robust scents of cedar and lemon. To be on the safe side, she mopped down the hallway in both directions. Working quickly was as decent a workout as a three-mile jog.
After she put away the cleaning supplies, she went begging for a breakfast she could take with her to the music hall. Triddick gave her a strip of bread that had been wrapped around cheese and meat and then baked. Her empty stomach rumbled at the appetizing scent.
“Thank you.” She gave him a smile.
He nodded to her. “I hear your audience will be held in the great hall. I look forward to your performance.”
Really? Why had he heard that before she had? Angling her jaw out, she felt ready to bite someone’s head off again, but it wasn’t fair to take out her bad temper on him. Pivoting on her heel, she strode to the music hall.
Once the door closed behind her, the privacy of the long, empty room was like a soothing balm, and her angry energy faded. She had come to think of this hall as “hers,” and she would miss giving up the private sanctuary when Isabeau’s music master returned.
Sitting at the table, she ate part of her breakfast to ease the empty ache in her middle. Then she shoved the rest to one side and buried her head in her hands.
Her body ached all over with remembered pleasure. She thought of the things she and Morgan had done to each other throughout the heated night, and need pulsed through her again.
This obsession with him was the height of insanity.
But she had never been successful at controlling her obsessions…
Tiredness hit, and she slumped. She longed to curl up on the couch to take a nap, but today, of all days, was going to be unpredictable. Kallah or someone else might come in at any time to announce she would be playing in the great hall.
She could never afford to forget her behavior was being watched.
That feeling of being watched—it was in her bones, a prickle at the nape of her neck…
A sudden conviction struck. Suddenly, she was sure someone was watching her, even though she was supposedly alone.
There was no magic to it, just good old human intuition.
Pushing to her feet, she turned in a circle and studied the seemingly empty room. The huge, intricate tapestries did not reveal any bulge. Instead, they lay flat against the walls, just as they should.
