Scholar of Magic (Art of the Adept #3) - Michael G. Manning Page 0,156

his lips, then responded, “They’re sisters—couldn’t they have shared a room?”

“Ordinarily, sir,” agreed Blake. “But Miss Laina’s bodyguard, Darla, is sharing her room. It seemed uncouth to force all three of them into one room.”

“Oh, sure. That makes sense,” agreed Will equitably, a strange sound in his voice. “And the servant’s quarters downstairs, I assume that’s occupied as well?”

“I’m letting Armand share it with me,” said Blake. “But I can sleep in the parlor, and you can use the bed. He and I were taking turns anyway.”

Will pointed upward. “The old attic quarters?”

“Monique is using it for now.”

“Monique.”

“Their maid. She doesn’t have any family in the city, so she had nowhere else to go.”

“Naturally,” said Will, starting down the stairs.

Blake called after him anxiously, “Where are you going, sir?”

“The dormitory I suppose,” announced Will. “I’m sure they have a closet I can sleep in.” He made it to the bottom of the stairs when a figure with long dark hair darted out of the hall and charged toward him.

“Brother!” It was Tabitha, presumably referring to his status as their pretend brother-in-law. She caught him with a smile and threw her arms around him.

Will froze, but Tabitha didn’t release him. She was a bit like Sammy in that regard, or perhaps she sensed his tension. Will’s emotions grew turbulent, and his fatigue ate away at his control. After a moment he returned the embrace, staring over her shoulder. Tears began to well in his eyes and when he looked up, he saw Agnes and Laina standing in the kitchen door, watching him.

Agnes walked over, and Will silently disengaged himself from Tabitha. The young woman’s face registered that something was wrong, though she wasn’t quite sure what it might be. Agnes took his arm and led him back up the stairs. “I assume you saw Mark in the bedroom?” she asked.

He nodded.

“He was just changing. We lost most of our clothes, but he wasn’t going to bed. You look tired.”

“Yeah.” Somehow, he couldn’t protest as she pulled him along.

“Let’s put you to bed for a while then,” she said soothingly. Her husband was stepping out into the hall as they approached. He nodded at Will and started to say something, but Agnes warned him away with a look. She took Will into his bedroom, and Blake followed them in. “Get some rest, and when you’re awake I’ll have Armand prepare something warm for you to eat. We can talk then.”

“I’ll see to the rest, Your Excellency,” said Blake.

The baroness nodded and quietly ducked out of the room.

Will stared mournfully at Blake, but the manservant merely shrugged. “Let’s get you out of those clothes. They look like they’re ready for the rag pile.”

For once, Will didn’t fight while Blake helped him undress. A few minutes later he was in bed, his head comfortably resting on his favorite pillow. Selene’s pillow, he noted absently, vowing to hide it after he woke later. She had brought it with her after leaving the palace. Glancing up at Blake, he asked, “Remind me again, why didn’t they go to the palace instead?”

“The baron didn’t trust the king,” said Blake immediately. “Not after what happened a few days back, when you were whipped.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” said Will, then he closed his eyes and drifted away.

He woke up suddenly somewhere close to noon, feeling a sense of impending doom. It was too late. He’d wasted too much time. After a moment, he oriented himself and his heart rate returned to normal, but the anxiety remained. I’m not prepared for tonight, he realized. That was the heart of the matter.

But he was rested. The sleep at the Alchemy building, as well as a few hours of rest after the regeneration potion that morning, had combined to leave him feeling hale and hearty, though he wasn’t sure if he was sound of mind. Janice flashed through his thoughts, and he hastily pushed the thought away. He needed to get ready; there wasn’t time for wasting.

Will rose and dressed in simple but clean