But having a fondness for the dark arts, is. Just look at that wolf up there.” He glanced above. “He’s trapped between two worlds.”
“He’s not real.”
“Are you certain of that, Sister?”
Nevan wasn’t going to shut up until she proved her point. “Absolutely. He’s made of plaster.”
“He’s more than that. His story says so.”
With trepidation, Sarina lifted her gaze to study the ceiling. She stared at the panel directly overhead, the scene that ended the fantastical tale that ran through the suite of rooms. “All I see is a wild animal running from the men who are hunting it.”
“That wild animal, as you call it, is not just running for his life. He too, is on a hunt.”
She hadn’t noticed. “To catch what?” The panel contained no other beast.
“To free the mate he loves.”
“How can you tell such a thing?”
“It’s not about what one sees, Sister, but rather what one feels. That wolf has suffered a great loss. He’s on a mission of revenge, but he’s suspended in time, trapped in the ceiling, lingering between his world and ours.” Nevan looked away, returned his focus to the silver box resting on the yellow damask cushion in front of him.
A chill ran up her spine. “You have a way too vivid imagination, Brother. And quite frankly, I believe it needs to stop. Tomorrow you are to find a friend and forget those damn teeth Father gave you.”
“And where, pray tell, am I to find a friend in this wasteland? Tipton is far too old, that Ian fellow far too much of a libertine, and as for Lycansay, well, I’m sure you wouldn’t care for me to make friends with that devil.”
“I meant that you should find a friend of your own age. Go to the stables. I’m sure the boys there fall within your age range.”
Nevan fidgeted with his right sleeve cuff. “I do not care to associate with thieves.”
What the deuces did that mean? “Thieves?”
“Yes, Sister. Thieves. The stable grooms of Lycansay Hall are thieves of the first rate.”
Tossing her reticule onto the yellow settee across from the window seat where Nevan sat, she glared at her brother. “What proof do you have?”
“I am down to only thirty-one teeth. That makes ten stolen from the time I exited the carriage and came up to this room.”
Not the bloody teeth again. “You dropped the box, Nevan. The missing teeth are probably still outside.”
“I inspected the drive, twice, Sister. I would have spotted my teeth had they remained on the ground.” He paused as he pointed his finger over each of the teeth scattered in front of him. He counted softly to himself. “Thirty-one indeed.” He raised his head and looked over to her. “I say, Sister, Lycansay’s men are thieves.”
As if any sane thief would be fool enough to cast their eyes upon a set of worthless wolf teeth. But as long as Nevan believed a thief would, she stood the chance of him voicing the outlandish accusation. “Tomorrow you may look for your missing teeth. But under no circumstance, none at all, are you to make mention of your missing teeth. Not to the stable grooms, and certainly not to Lord Lycansay. Have I made myself clear on the matter?”
Nevan frowned. “But those teeth are mine. Father sent them specifically to me as my inheritance.”
“And you are a man now, Nevan. Remember? Trust me, men do not go around casting guilt upon others unless they have proper, indisputable, proof.”
“But…”
“You must deal with the loss, Brother. For only a child would whine about such a trivial thing.” She stared at him, waited for yet another rebuttal, but none came. “Now that that’s settled, have you chosen a bed?”
Folding his arms across his chest, Nevan leaned back against the deep window frame. “I tried both and they are the same.”
“Good, then I’ll take the first one as you enter the bedroom.” At least she’d gotten something of her choosing out of this nerve-wracking arrangement. “I expect you to turn in early as I have a full day ahead of me tomorrow.”
“Will you get to sort through Father’s belongings?”
“I do hope so as I believe his records could prove vital to me finishing his expedition. And without the funds still owed Father, we have nothing.”
“I will behave, Sister. You have my word.”
If only she could trust Nevan on that.
Gathering her skirts, Sarina lowered herself onto the settee. She tried to relax. Even a few minutes peace would be a blessing after their journey from