16

Dinner is an awkward affair. Whether due to shared suspicion or unfamiliarity with our hosts, we eat mostly in silence, with only the occasional attempt at friendly conversation by Gareth. Brigid has changed into another too-large gown, and her sleeves come perilously close to dragging in the various dishes and sauces on the table before us. I feel a moment’s sadness for her solitude and obvious lack of feminine guidance.

Despite the strangeness of the company, we eat enthusiastically. Brigid, with the help of an old woman from a town some distance away, has cooked us a wonderful meal. It is simple in preparation but extravagant in quantity, and I eat heartily in portions that would give any proper young woman pause. We are sipping ale after dessert when Mr. O’Leary finally mentions our purpose for coming to the cairns.

“I expect you’ll need a guide, then.” I am almost certain I catch a hint of hopefulness in his voice.

I have not found an opportunity to fill Dimitri in on my conversation with Brigid, and I speak before he has a chance to answer. “Actually, we prefer to work alone, though we do appreciate the offer.”

Dimitri casts a glance my way, and I try to send him a look that says, I’ll explain everything later.

Mr. O’Leary’s nod is slow. “I expect you’ll have a map of the site.”

“We do, as a matter of fact,” says Dimitri. “But I’m sure we will have need of your expertise as we get further into our research.”

Brigid speaks from her father’s right. “Father knows much about the cairns. If there is anything specific you seek, he’ll be able to help you find it.”

Mr. O’Leary’s laugh is a cold wind in the candlelit dining room. “Daughter, you have forgotten; Mr. Markov and his party seek only historical knowledge of the cairns. And that is easy enough for any man learned in the ways of research.” The sarcasm in his voice is obvious, and he turns to look at Dimitri. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Markov?”

Dimitri holds his eyes. “That’s right.”

There is a moment of silence in which the two men stare each other down. I almost wonder if they will come to blows, so intense is the hostility between them, but a minute later Mr. O’Leary pushes his chair back from the table.

“It has been a long and tiring day, for you more than any. Please make yourselves comfortable. Brigid serves the morning meal at seven.”

He disappears into the hall and Brigid rises with an awkward smile. “My father is unused to company. We rarely have guests, and it’s easy to forget how to behave among others. Please forgive him.”

Dimitri sits back in his chair, at ease now that Mr. O’Leary has gone. “Think nothing of it.”

Brigid nods. “Is there anything else I can see to before retiring for the evening?”

“I can speak only for myself,” Gareth says, “but I have everything I need in the mattress that awaits me upstairs.”

“We’re fine, thank you.” I try to smile at her. To force down my unease with the reminder that we are all tired and skittish.

“Very well.”

We say our good nights but remain around the table in silence until she has been gone more than a minute.

Gareth leans forward in his seat, his voice a loud whisper. “What was that all about?”

Dimitri shakes his head. “Not here.” He rises, gesturing at us to follow. “We’ll have to speak in one of our chambers, and we’ll have to do it quietly.”

We follow him up the stairs, past the rooms assigned to him and Gareth upon our arrival. He stops at the door to my chamber, pushing it open. He lifts his eyebrows in silent question and I nod, giving him permission to enter my room though he is asking only for Gareth’s sake. Dimitri is welcome in my room, and he knows it.

Once we are all inside, Dimitri closes the door and we move farther into the room. A fire has been lit in the firebox, and we cross to the small sofa and set of chairs that sit before it. Gareth sits in one of the high-backed chairs, covered in threadbare tapestry, while I curl up at the end of the sofa. Dimitri drops to the carpet before the fire, stretching his long limbs with a sigh and leaning back on his forearms.

“Now,” he says softly. “What do you suspect?”

I take a deep breath. “I’m not sure. It’s just that Brigid asked if we came from London. But not in the way one asks when one needs to hear the answer.”

“I must be confused about the nature of an inquiry, then.” Gareth’s voice is tinged with humor. “Isn’t that the only way one asks a question?”

I level my gaze at him, trying to keep the exasperation from my voice. “No. Sometimes one asks a question to confirm something one already knows.”

“So you think Brigid already knew we came from London?” Dimitri asks from the floor.

“It certainly seemed that way.” I look from one to the other of them. “Are you sure that neither of you let slip our origins?”

“Positive,” Dimitri says without hesitation. “I’ve taken great care to protect our identities, our backgrounds, anything and everything beyond the story we concocted. After what happened on the way to Chartres, I take no chances with your safety, Lia.” His voice is full of something deep and rich, and I feel my cheeks flush with heat.

“Gareth?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know enough about your reason for being here to give anything away, and I’ve not had the time or inclination to babble on about London. You and Dimitri are both well-spoken, and many scholars probably do come from London to study the cairns. Isn’t it possible that she simply guessed?”

“Perhaps.” I gaze into the fire as if it holds the answer to all our questions. “It is possible, I suppose. I…” I look up, meeting Gareth’s eyes. “I simply feel that they know more than they’re letting on.”

“I agree with Lia.” Dimitri speaks softly into the room. “It may well be nothing, but we cannot afford to take chances. We’ll have to keep a close eye on them while we’re here, and guard carefully any discovery.”

“Would you like me to stay?” Gareth asks. “I can at least keep watch and see to your safety.”

Dimitri meets my eyes, leaving the question to me. He knows well my desire to see to things the way Aunt Abigail would have seen to them, at least until such a time as I know enough to do them differently.

Yet, I am tempted. Since Sonia’s betrayal, the people whom I trust have dwindled to an alarmingly small number.

But Aunt Abigail did not wish Gareth to be told. When she assigned him as one of our guides to Chartres, she entrusted him with only a small piece of the journey, just as she did with the other guides. It is impossible to believe that I, with my small experience and knowledge, would know better than she.

I smile at Gareth, reaching out for his hand. He looks at my outstretched arm in surprise, looking to Dimitri as if for permission. When Dimitri gives him a small nod, Gareth takes my hand in his.

“Dear Gareth, if there were anyone with whom I could share my secrets, it would be you. It’s for your safety and my own that I must decline. But I heartily wish it were not so.”

He nods. “I’m always at your service, my Lady.” Squeezing my hand, he grins before I can reply. “And you needn’t bother to remind me that you have not yet accepted the appointment. The people of Altus, your people, need you. No true Lady can turn away from the call of her people, and there is no truer Lady than you.”

I swallow against the emotion that fills my throat, but Gareth stands, saving me the embarrassment of trying to speak around it. “I’ll leave you to rest. Good night.”

“Good night, Brother.” There is both respect and affection in Dimitri’s voice as Gareth makes his way from the room.

Dimitri and I sit in the silence left by Gareth’s departure, the crackling and shifting of the logs in the firebox the only sounds in the room. When I look over, Dimitri is watching me, his eyes dark and inscrutable. Leaning back on his arms, his white shirt stretches taut across his chest, the undone tie at the collar revealing a smooth stretch of skin. If I were to undo the remaining laces, I could push the shirt from his shoulders and kiss his chest, his stomach.

“Why do you look at me so?” I am caught in the tide of his eyes, unable to deny the desire in my voice.

The passion in his gaze is a reflection of my own. “Can I not look at you for the simple pleasure of doing so, my Lady?”

I look away. “Don’t call me that, Dimitri. Not here. Not now. I don’t wish to be Lady of Altus. Not yet.”

He pats the carpet next to him. “Come.” His voice is thick with longing.

I go to him, crossing the few feet that lie between us and dropping next to him on the floor.

“Closer.” He speaks the word so softly I almost cannot hear him.

Moving toward him, I stop when my face is a few inches from his.

“Closer still,” he says.

I smile and move closer until our lips are but an inch apart. “Here?”

His own smile is sly and dark. “That will do.” He reaches for me, lifting my face just a little to meet his. “Even when the time comes for you to reign, you will never simply be Lady of Altus. Not to me.”

He lowers his mouth to mine, his lips soft in the moment before they slide to the sensitive skin of my neck. My head tilts back and I fight to keep a moan from escaping my mouth.

“What, then?” I whisper. “What will I be?”

He speaks against my skin. “That is a simple question. You will be my love. My heart.” His lips continue their journey, making their way to the soft spot at the center of my collarbone. “However strong you must be when you face the world, with me you may lay yourself bare and come to no harm.”

My body is afire, lit from within by the spark of his mouth and the soft words spoken in a whisper. Sliding down so that I am lying half on top of him and half on the carpet, I push him back against the floor. My hair is a dark curtain around us, the firelight only barely visible through the shimmering strands.

“I think I would like to lay myself bare before you, Dimitri Markov.” This time it is my mouth on his, and I linger there, feeling his lips move against mine.

When I pull away, he touches a finger to my kiss-swollen mouth. “I can wait, Lia. I’ll never stop waiting.”