Tarnished Knight - By Bec McMaster Page 0,59
didn’t know if it was Honoria or Esme.
“’Ush, now, luv.” That voice he recognised. Blade. Which meant the woman was Honoria. “I’ll keep an eye on ‘em. Will’s a good lad…” More words, lost to distance.
They were talking about him. And Lena. Will couldn’t move. He wanted so desperately to hear what they were speaking about.
“But are you sure he won’t hurt her?” Honoria murmured. “You saw him tonight, when he barrelled out of here. You saw her. I know exactly what happened in that room, Blade, what if--”
“It won't.”
“Blade,” Honoria’s voice grew stronger. “Can you promise me that he won’t hurt her? She’s my sister… Do you trust him with her? I know he wouldn’t want to hurt her but what if…?”
Will strained to listen, certain that his master would reply. The moment stretched out. Longer. Longer still.
And there was no sound.
“Aye,” Blade let out a long breath. “I’ll speak to ‘im. He’s been on edge of late. Maybe it were best if ‘e found somewhere else, for a time--”
For the second time in his life, Will knew what it was not to be wanted. The betrayal stabbed at him with sharp, greedy fingers, making it hard to breathe. Harder still to keep hold of the bottle. It slipped from his fingers, sliding over the steep pitch of the roof and vanishing. A second later the smash of broken glass tore the silence of the night apart.
The dog started barking again, others joining it. Will couldn’t move. He felt even emptier, as if Blade’s words had carved something else from within him. His sense of worth, of place, was rapidly narrowing.
Find somewhere else… He knew the truth behind those words. Not wanted. Not here. In case he put his hands on Lena and hurt her.
You don’t get to touch, you little cur. A foot kicking through the cage at him burned in his memory.
But he’d trusted Blade. Blade had bought him from the Sturrett’s and given him his freedom. And now Blade didn’t trust him.
Somehow he found his feet, moving automatically. He didn’t even try to hide the sound of his footsteps across the roof. A golden light had flooded the yard below as someone peered out through the window to see where the broken glass had come from.
Will paused on the edge of the gable, looking down at Blade, where he peered through the window. Their eyes locked on each other and a shiver of dark knowledge went through his master’s eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but Will beat him to it.
“I’ll find somewhere else to live,” he said quietly, then stepped off the edge of the roof and landed in the cold yard below.
4
Will was gone.
Lena peered through the window pane, watching rain drum against the ledge outside, with a horrible, twisting sensation in her chest. She knew only the bare facts of what had occurred, but she feared the argument between Blade and Will had sprung from what had occurred between them in the sitting room. That awful moment when she’d almost thrown herself upon Will and he’d rejected her.
The not knowing was a gut-wrenching feeling as she watched and waited to see if Blade would bring Will home. What had she done? Guilt ached within her, almost a match to the stabbing pain of rejection.
A sharp rap sounded at the door to the sitting room.
“Come in,” she called, not even bothering to lift her head from the back of the sofa she slumped across. Everyone was walking on eggshells today at the Warren and Blade had been in a foul mood before he’d gone to find Will and drag him home. A task she didn’t envy him.
The door eased open on silent hinges. “Forgive me for intruding.”
Lena’s head shot up at the smooth, cultured voice. A man’s voice and one she recognised now.
Leo Barrons closed the door behind him with a controlled click, lace dripping from the sleeve of his coat. The lace was the only adornment; the crushed velvet coat was as black as midnight and bore a stern mandarin collar. Only a handsome ruby dangling from his ear bore evidence of his station.
She couldn’t move, the breath catching in her throat even as her eyes searched for signs of familiarity in his expression. Was that a hint of her brother, Charlie, around his eyes and hairline? Or her father?
They stared at each other, the moments stretching out awkwardly. Then Leo crossed the room toward her. “My thralls are taking their inoculations