The Lord and the Banshee (Read by Candlelight #13) - Gillian St. Kevern Page 0,50

scheming, good-for-nothing hornswoggler! I shall introduce him to the sharp end of my boot!”

“Please don’t antagonise the fair folk.” Pip’s tone was strained. “Let’s return to the library. I want to make sure we’ve taken every precaution.”

As they reached the library, they found Barnett in the act of setting out the tea things. “Is there anything else you require?”

“No, no.” Pip waved a hand absently. “This all looks very nice.”

Cross’s frown deepened. He’d not thought about the threat he posed Barnett, or the other staff. “How long would it take the staff to pack up and return to London?”

Barnett’s head jerked up. “You are intending to return to the city, Lord Cross?”

Cross chewed his words. “Yes.” He did not think he could be blamed for lying in the circumstances. “Send everyone local to their homes, and take the rest of the staff back to London with you. I want everyone out of the house before nightfall.”

Barnett did not seem as surprised by this order as he should have been. “And your travel arrangements?”

“Leighton, Julian and myself will follow later. We’ll wire you the details of our travel plans.” Cross gave him a sharp nod. “Dismissed.”

“This is very sudden,” Pip protested. “What are you thinking?”

Cross lowered himself into his usual armchair. “If anything happened to the staff because of my…situation, I should never forgive myself. They must be kept away until we can guarantee that I pose no threat to them.”

Pip pressed his lips together. “If only Patrick wasn’t out of the country! We could dearly use his advice.”

“Telegraph him,” Cross ordered. “He may still be able to advise us. In the meantime, have you a plan?”

Pip nodded, taking his notebook from his jacket. “I propose that we create a protected space for you here in the library using salt, horseshoes and iron. You’ll remain safely inside, with the fair folk unable to reach you, while Julian and I extend the protections to the rest of the house, and from there the grounds.”

So he was to be a prisoner after all. Cross stared at the wooden panelling of the library floor. He had isolated himself from the world once before, but that had been at his volition. To be forced into it did not sit well with him at all.

Pip’s hand rested on his shoulder. “It is only until we can find a more permanent solution.”

Cross placed his hand over Pip’s. “As long as you remain beside me, I have no need for society, no need for occupation. You are my world.”

24

Thomas watched the cart pull away, bearing the last of the staff and their possessions towards the train station. The staff did not seem put out by the sudden change of plans. If anything, they looked relieved. Their unflappable housemaid had dropped a tray that afternoon, and the footmen kept glancing over their shoulders. Even Barnett only made a token attempt to offer his services.

“Glad to be gone. I wonder what they make of it all?”

“They know something’s up, but not what. I wonder they can’t smell it.” Julian had discarded his jacket upon reentering the house. There was a light in his eyes at odds with his waistcoat and tie, and his hair was in disarray from the wind. He watched the cart disappear down the drive. “There’s a storm building. Can you feel it? It’s going to be big.”

Thomas studied the sky. There was a preponderance of clouds, it was true, but he did not yet feel the weight in the air that preceded a summer storm. Still, if Julian sensed it, the storm was coming. “Shut the door then and come inside.”

Pip had only waited for the servants to leave the house before fetching his desired supplies. He had dragged a sack full of horseshoes from the stables and fetched an earthenware pot of salt from the kitchen. “They’re gone?”

Julian nodded. “The only people remaining in the house are the three of us.”

And whatever lurked unseen in the shadows. Thomas sat on the cot that the staff had made him up in the library before departing. Had his sudden decision to send their servants away been of his volition—or the design of their enemy?

Thomas shook his head, trying to clear it of his thoughts. Once he began doubting himself, he would not have a moment’s peace.

Pip showed Julian how he wanted the salt scattered. “You’re not seasoning a dish, you’re erecting a defence against the fair folk. This salt is a weapon—that’s better.” Pip studied his son