She accepted the next course from a freckle-faced boy. She doubted he was as human as he appeared. Jordon couldn’t imagine too many Victorian citizens would take the sight of her present company in their stride. It wasn’t too many years past the time when a supposed witch would have been burned at the stake. Sheassumed the same would happen to gargoyles and such, should they be caught.
She lowered her eyes to her salmon and buttery fried parsnips. She noticed the gargoyles were served the same, and plenty of it. Unlike her, they didn’t seem to be as careful of fish bones. She drank the last of her wine and poured some more. “Mrs Y. is a good cook,” she said, trying to make small talk. “You’re lucky to have her.”
Rook coughed, amused. “The local farmers are lucky we have her! Happy for them, not all of us enjoy raw meat.” Like the others, he didn’t bother with tableware, deeming his fingers utensil enough.
“And the farmers frown on missing sheep,” a sharp-edged gargoyle called Vicious said between bites. He had black hair, blue skin and wings. Chuckles followed his statement.
“They wouldn’t really steal,” Sage explained to her calmly. “The estate provides for all of us. As night guardians, they hardly have to beg for food.”
Jordon looked to Griffin. “If you’re all awake at night, who guards the place when you’re asleep?”
“Unlike the gargoyles, we can be awake in the daylight. We need little sleep,” Griffin explained.
The blue gargoyle grinned a sharp white grin. “It gives him more time to cat around. The ladies like his company.”
Griffin growled in warning, and Vic lost his smile. “What?”
The wolf-like creature next to him, Howl, snickered. He had roast beef stuck in his teeth. “Don’t mind him. He’s not too smart.”
“Vic’s barely thirty,” the thin purple one across the table from him spoke up, cutting across the brewing fight. Jordon thought his name was Lance. “He probably hasn’t noticed what’s happening between you two.”
Jordon stiffened, set down her fork. “I wasn’t aware there was anything happening,” she said with strained calm. She didn’t like to think of the relationship between her and Griff as public, not when she barely knew what to make of it herself. She nervously took a sip of wine.
Lance stared at her. Cornered, he shot a glance at Griffin, and quickly changed the subject. “I’m the best flier. Howl tracks like a wolf.”
“Better,” Howl shot back. He crammed a whole boiled potato in his mouth.
Jordon let them change the subject, but her appetite was completely gone. What was she doing, sitting here like this? She should be trying to convince the house to take her home. She didn’t belong here. “Excuse me. I don’t feel well,” she said. Avoiding Griffin’s eyes, she quickly stood and left the table, praying he wouldn’t follow her. She was quite sure she would start wigging out if she had to sit still one more minute and pretend that everything was normal.
Everything was not normal!She was trapped in a living house, out of her time, and slightly drunk. She stumbled on her skirt as she was climbing the stairs and upgraded that to “definitely drunk”.
Since it was either leave the table or climb the walls, screaming, she thought she’d made the right choice.
She didn’t even try to reach her room. Tonight she rather wanted to be lost. She didn’t want Griffin to find her too soon, not when she felt so confused. She needed time to think.
That was how she found the balcony. Stumbling through dark rooms until she found one lit by moonlight, she followed the white path to a double French door. It swung silently open to reveal a cosy balcony overlooking the front lawns. A brisk wind blew at her, perfect for clearing her head.
Jordon closed the doors and leaned on the rail. As long as no one went for a flight, she’d have her privacy. She smiled a bitter smile and closed her eyes. Ah! How did things get so complicated? This had all come on her much too fast. Was there a way to prepare for something like this?
“Take me back,” she told the house, putting her heart into it. “We are not a good match. You know it, too. I’m no good for him.”
“Is he good for you?”
Jordon blinked. The quiet thought hung there, as if waiting for a response.
She didn’t have one. Griffin good for her? Jordon broke it down, simplified it. Was Griffin good? Of course. Though she hadn’t known him long, she felt sure of that. Was he good for her? She bit her lip and stared over the shadowed lawns. Though she wrestled with the question for a good long time, she couldn’t find an answer.
The chill finally forced her inside. Somehow she was not surprised to find him waiting there, and in his human form. At least he was dressed.
He bowed, very formal. “This place can be confusing. I thought you might have gotten turned around. May I lead you back?”
She sighed. “I wish someone would.”
They were silent as he escorted her back to her room. When they reached the door, he looked down at her solemnly. “Am I invited tonight?”
Part of her was tempted. She would have loved to be held. Instead she shook her head. “It’s no good, Griff. I’m not good company tonight.”
He nodded soberly, reached for her chin. He hesitated just before touching her. When he spoke, there was unhappiness in his voice. “May I kiss you goodnight?”
