“When Beauty came back to the stables without you, we feared the worst.”
“If by the worst you mean a bear on my estate, you would be correct.” He put an arm around Aoife’s waist, pulling her closer to him.
“I want everyone looking for the beast. I injured it, so it cannot run far. But I will not risk it returning.”
“My Lord, I…” but Aoife didn’t know what to say. What could she say to convince him not to send his men after the creature? She had nothing.
“It is all right. You need not be afraid. We will find the creature,” he said, misunderstanding her. “The soldiers and the gardeners will help.” He turned back to Miller. “I want the creature found by sundown.”
“Yes, my lord,” Miller doffed his cap.
“And I require your horse. I need to take Miss Aoife home.”
Home. The word scraped through her like grit.
He meant the manor, of course. Would it ever be home to her?
“I can walk,” she protested.
“Nonsense, you’ve had a shock,” Halverton said as Miller slid down from the saddle. Halverton swung up easily and reached down for her hand.
She let him pull her up behind him.
The horse moved steadily across the lawn. Aoife looked to the woods. There was no sign at this distance that the Athraith had ever been there. Aoife couldn’t stop seeing the bloom of blood on its shoulder. Perhaps it would escape. It was one of the Sheedar’s creatures after all. It might have healing powers, or a way totravel other than those understood by humans. She could only hope it had long since left the estate. Hope that it would be all right.
Aoife couldn’t help lingering on the thought that it might die because of her. It was there because of her. The thought of it out there, suffering on its own, was more than she could bear.
Chapter 18
The moment Mr Lanyon opened the front door, Halverton strode inside with Aoife in tow.
“Lanyon,” Halverton said as he entered, “I shot a bear.”
Mr Lanyon straightened, face politely blank. “Indeed, my lord?”
“Enormous creature,” Halverton said as he handed over his gloves. “Black as pitch. Have you ever seen one, Lanyon?”
“Can’t say that I have, sir.”
“It was on the estate,” said Halverton, barely pausing long enough to hear the butler’s reply. “I was about to leave when I saw the thing towering over Miss Aoife. It would’ve torn her apart if I had not been there.”
Aoife stood behind him, saying nothing.
Mr Lanyon gave her a quick, concerned glance before turning to Halverton. “Most fortunate you were there, my lord.”
“Fetch tea for Miss Aoife. Her nerves are in tatters.”
Aoife opened her mouth to say she was fine, or didn’t need tea, or hadn’t been in danger at all, but Halverton was already guiding her toward the drawing room with a hand at the small of her back.
“Come. Sit.”
Aoife hesitated. Her clothes were mud-caked from her adventures in the woods. She couldn’t simply sit on the fine upholstery.
“Oh, do not worry about that.” Halverton gestured, realising her discomfort. “What are servants for?”
Mr Lanyon arrived with a large cloth, which he draped over the chair behind her. She smiled at him appreciatively before she sank down onto it, her skirts clinging to her legs. Halverton took the seat opposite.
James arrived with the tray a few moments later and set it carefully on the table between them.
