AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The cup of half-eaten soup stood with a spoon inside. A cup of tea, cold and forgotten, was by its side. But that was not what caught his eye. A pomegranate lay next to the cup as it always did. Only this time, it was different. The fruit had remained untouched all the times before, but this time, it was broken in half, with seeds falling out of its shell.
* * *
Eloise entered her small room, which she had occupied for the most part of her life. A single cot stood by the window, a lonely candle stood on the tiny bedside table. It was all too familiar, and yet also foreign.
“I am sorry it took me so long to get you back, dear sister,” Ford said from the threshold.
Eloise turned around and looked at his tired face. His hair seemed grayer than she remembered; a few lines marred his forehead. How much stress had she caused him? How much suffering? He seemed exhausted.
“You shouldn’t have worried. I was treated well. I wish I—” She shook her head. “I wrote you a letter, saying just that, but…”
“It doesn’t matter,” Ford said. “You are here now. And we can put all that behind us. I don’t want to leave you now, but there’s one last issue we need to discuss with my associates down at the coffeehouse.”
“Oh, I’ll come with you,” Eloise said eagerly.
“No. Please, don’t. It’s not something you need to hear. Just relax and… don’t go anywhere,” he added with a smile.
He walked toward her and placed a dry kiss on her forehead. “I’ve missed you, sister.”
“I missed you, too,” Eloise said with a smile. Ford gave a clipped nod and walked away.
Eloise turned back to her room. A line of light entered through the curtains, illuminating the journal which she threw on her bed. Eloise walked toward it, lit the candle, and opened her journal.
Mr. Scoundrel
The Novel
By Eloise Gunning.
Eloise read the words with a smile.
She flipped back to the pages, where she’d written her observations of the place and read.
Nothing is as it seems in this strange place, and especially not its owner. Cold on the outside, his passion burns deep within. A love for the sister he lost now translates to grief, which comes out in the form of aggression, the desire for revenge. He is not the only one who’s grief-stricken by the loss of Ava. Garric flinches at every mention of her name, while Sal can’t seem to talk enough about her.
They were her guards too, and now they are mine.
Everyone who has ever loved her is now blaming themselves for not being able to save her. Is my brother blaming himself now, too? I love him to bits, and when I rebelled and climb out of my chamber window, the last thing I wanted to do was hurt him.
I suppose it is true what they say, the people who hurt you most are the ones who love you.
Eloise frowned and put her journal aside. Someone from those people who pretended to mourn Ava was the one who’d killed her. She remembered Garric’s dark frown every time someone mentioned Ava. His expressions were too similar to Keyon’s. He was in pain.
Sal was mourning Ava, too. Both he and Garric had loved her, and that was obvious.
Chastity’s words came to her mind.Sal didn’t have eyes for anyone but Ava. I loved her too, but now that she’s gone, at least I get that man.
Eloise stood and walked toward the door. She needed to speak to Ford. Surely, he knew more about Ava’s murder. He didn’t believe for a moment that all he’d figured out was that the man wore a cloak.
She made her way down the dark corridor to the hall leading toward the coffeehouse. They had lived above the coffeehouse for as long as Eloise could remember. And it was very convenient since that quickly became a place of work for both Eloise and her brother.
It was dark, and the entire place was empty. As she neared the main hall, she finally heard the noises. Ford was talking to his associates.
“Contrary to popular belief, I do not know anybody from the Shadows, and I cannot ask them to take down the most influential criminal in all of London,” Ford said.
Eloise froze at the threshold. What were they talking about?
“But now we have proof,” another man retorted.
