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3. Blow
THE ONE THING I’d gotten better at doing, since discovering that I was a da Vinci’s beast, was stealing. Well, not real stealing. But sneaking into the kitchen of Raven Park Manor when the cook, Ashcombe, wasn’t around had become second nature. A girl needs to eat, and stolen chocolate tasted better than the legally acquired kind. Christmas was a few days away, and there was only so much temptation a hungry beast could resist, what with all the delicious smells wafting from the pantry. Not to mention that chocolate was a good distraction from the constant burning need I felt for Roy. Ashcombe was outdoing himself with all the delicacies he was preparing. From butter biscuits to chocolate puddings, the whole manor was immersed in flavours. Besides, training and turning into a beast required a lot of energy.
“Be quick, Kristin,” Peggy whispered from behind me.
“Just a minute. I’m nearly there.” I was carefully selecting chunks of dark chocolate from a pound bar Ashcombe kept on the top shelf of the pantry. Where he got that delicious bar was a mystery, but dash it if it didn’t taste good. The only problem? I couldn’t cut a large piece. Ashcombe would notice it. So, I scraped small, delicious chunks every day. I’d tried asking Ashcombe kindly for a daily portion, but he claimed that the cadets at the manor had already had enough of it in our hot cocoa cups. Tosh. How could anyone have enough chocolate?
“How was the performance?” I asked.
“Amazing. You would have loved it.” Curling a long tendril of her red hair around her finger, Peggy peeked at the corridor. “I hear something. There’s a noise that—”
“I bloody knew it.” Ashcombe’s angry voice was followed by the heavy thud of a door slamming shut.
“Gah!” Startled, I jerked up. A sting bit through my skull when I hit my head against the shelf.
Arms folded over his chest, Ashcombe scowled. “Do you think I’m stupid? I knew you were stealing my supply.”
“I just hoped you were too busy to notice.” I rubbed the sore spot on the top of my head. “Where were you hidden?”
A few wisps of his grey curly hair escaped from underneath the bandana that covered his head. “I know this manor better than anyone.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant by that. Maybe that there were secret passages and nooks I knew nothing about? But I jumped off the step I’d used to reach the top shelf and tossed a pitiful look at the towering cook. “You aren’t angry, are you? I mean, this isn’t what you think it is.” It was, and I was rambling on, but having the cook as an enemy was never a good idea.
“Poor Kristin has been through a lot,” Peggy said, patting my shoulder. “She nearly died in Berlin, and it’s Christmas, for Pete’s sake. Don’t you have a heart?”
A few lines on Ashcombe’s forehead softened, and victory smelled so much of cocoa. He sighed, throwing a hand up. “Bloody lasses.”
The noise of pots and pans being expertly used by Ashcombe as he prepared a nice cuppa for us made me smile. He was a real softie. All bark but no teeth. Ten minutes later, Peggy and I were sitting at the table, enjoying the rich velvety tastes of a hot drink.
Ashcombe shot me a glare from underneath his bushy grey eyebrows. I should consider myself lucky. The other cadets weren’t welcome in Ashcombe’s kitchen. He made an exception for me. And now for Peggy too, who was sipping her cup of cocoa with half-closed eyes.
Since I returned from Berlin, Ashcombe had become even more fussy than usual. Hence his quick surrender to my antic. Not that I was complaining. A fussy Ashcombe meant that he covered me with gastronomic attention, from oat biscuits to roasted venison and colcannon. He claimed I needed good food to recover from my ordeal in Berlin. Who was I to disagree?
A shift in the air caused the hairs on the back of my neck to rise. My beast quivered as a familiar anger pricked me. Kenneth stepped into the kitchen. The glint in his narrowed amber eyes was as cold and hard as a diamond. From underneath his upper lip, the tips of his fangs appeared. As tall as Roy, he wasn’t as broad as him, but he had a lot of muscles nevertheless. There was no need to ask him what he wanted or why he was so angry.
I stood up, wishing I had changed my red dress for something else. Even Ashcombe stiffened, and Peggy straightened, her fists closing.
“Kristin, here you are.” Kenneth toyed with a knife he produced from his pocket. “How gracious of you to be here with us instead of travelling around with the condottiero.”
“Roy is my mentor. I did what he asked me to do, and quite frankly, I wanted to go with him.” I gritted my teeth.
He nodded. “Because you’re his mistress. Not only his apprentice.”
Lord, I wished I were Roy’s mistress.
“You never did as you were told when I was your mentor.” He pointed the tip of the blade at his chest.
An exasperated groan escaped me. “Because you were cruel to me.”
A cold laugh croaked out of him. “You enjoyed every minute, you little—”
“Kenneth,” Ashcombe said, surprising me. He didn’t address Kenneth with ‘Lieutenant Wayne’ or with ‘sir,’ although Ashcombe had known him since he was a child. “It’s not the right moment to badger the lass.”
“Get out.” Kenneth jabbed a finger towards the door. “Both of you. I want a word with Kristin. Alone.”
Ashcombe’s chest stuck out. “I won’t be thrown out of my kitchen.” To be a human, he could sound as fierce and intimidating as an enraged beast. His commanding tone distracted me from the fear of Kenneth hitting me. “You go out.” He slammed a fist on the table.
“What did you say?” Despite his words, a hint of worry crept into Kenneth’s posture. “How dare you speak to me like that?”
