Scholar of Magic (Art of the Adept #3) - Michael G. Manning Page 0,155

a dungeon. He only wanted me to refit the cellar. The expansion for a laboratory was my idea, as well as something Her Highness would have doubtless done if she were here.”

Laina threw her hands up in the air. “Only because he’s twisted her brain into a limp noodle!”

Blake relaxed slightly, putting one hand on his hip in gesture that would definitely have been too casual for such a servant speaking to most nobles. “You know better than that, Laina. I know you dislike him, but even you don’t believe he’s evil. Quite the reverse, in fact.”

Will’s half-sister pressed her lips together in frustration, unable to deny what the man had said. Then she found her voice. “It’s still a colossal waste of money. Think how many people it could have helped.”

“A moment ago, you were fine with the money being kept safely in Her Highness’ accounts. Now you’re suggesting she’s parsimonious for not giving the money to your charity? Hasn’t she already donated considerably to the cause?”

“That’s not the point.”

“What is the point then, Miss Nerrow?” asked Blake in an innocent tone that would likely have infuriated even a saint.

Laina’s face was turning red when her mother appeared behind her. “Stop haranguing the poor man, Laina. I raised you to comport yourself better.” Blake bowed as the baroness entered the room.

Her eyes were the first to fix on Will standing quietly in the kitchen doorway. Despite her station, Agnes Nerrow curtseyed respectfully. “It appears our gracious host has returned. I am glad to see you again, William, if you will forgive us for bursting into your home unannounced.”

Laina and Agnes both glanced at his trousers, noting the one bare leg with curiosity. Will stepped forward, feeling uncertain, and his cheeks colored as they stared at his ruined clothes. A few seconds passed, then he regained his wits. “Excuse my attire. It’s been an interesting day. If you’ll pardon me, I need to change.” Without another word, he slipped around Blake and out the other door, heading into the hall. All he could think of was getting to his bedroom and locking himself in. Nowhere was safe.

Behind him, he heard Blake’s voice. “Pardon me, milady. I need to attend to my employer. I’ll return shortly.” He followed Will into the hall and up the stairs.

Stopping at the head of the stairs, Will turned around. “What in the hell is going on?”

“Their house burned down. I told them you would put them up for a while.”

“I didn’t agree to that!” Will hissed in a whispered yell.

Blake raised one brow. “You’d have turned them away? Be honest.”

Fatigue and frustration combined to overwhelm him. Will’s eyes focused on the balustrade that bordered the stairs, and suddenly a piece of it exploded, flying away in a shower of splinters. Blake jerked and stared, then looked back at him. Neither of them said anything for a few seconds, until Will spoke first. “Fuck.” He’d inadvertently reflex cast a force-lance. There was no doubt now.

“Not to worry. I already have a carpenter downstairs. I’ll put him on the repair as soon as he finishes the door,” said the manservant reasonably.

Closing his eyes, Will rubbed his face while composing his thoughts. “I need some quiet. Please give my guests my apologies. I’ll speak with them after I’ve rested.”

“Certainly, sir, however—”

Will held up a hand to silence the man. “No buts. I’ll think about all this after a nap.” Turning away, he went to the master bedroom door and opened it. He came face to face with Mark Nerrow, who was in the process of changing into a robe and slippers. Will’s robe, and Will’s slippers. The two men stared at one another for a split second, then Will gently closed the door.

“It was the only room fit for a man and his wife,” said Blake from beside his shoulder. “The guest rooms were too small.”

Will pointed at one of the guest room doors.

“Miss Laina is in that one, sir.”

He pointed at the final bedroom.

“I put Miss Tabitha in that one.”

He nodded, pursing