AllFreeNovel
Share Us
A reddish tint appeared.
She tilted the tile toward the sunlight streaming in the open window.
Yes, red. The mortar—it wasn’t the same as the kind used in the upper chambers. Not at all.
A knock on her front door echoed along the front hallway and into the room.
Rune wouldn’t knock on the front door, would he? She thought she had made it clear he should come and go as necessary. Even with that, he had made sure to tell her he was going to Newport to check on the arrival of Captain Folback’s papers that he’d sent to London for.
Footsteps approached and she called out to her butler as he passed the open doorway. “Please see whoever it is into here, Watson.”
He paused in his steps toward the main door. “As you wish, my lady.”
Her stare went back down to the tile in her hand, her eyes blinking again and again to recreate moisture where there was none. Red in the mortar—whatever did that mean? Lord Kallen would know—she would have to pay him a call once Rune returned.
“Mr. Sangton here for you, my lady.”
Elle froze with her look on the tile, all blood draining from her head, her arms, her chest.
“My lady?”
She jerked around with Watson’s question, a fabricated smile cracking across her face as she looked up. “Of course, show him in, please, Watson.”
Her butler stepped to the side and Elle held her breath. Maybe she had misheard the name. Maybe she was imagining the whole thing. Maybe.
A tall man, almost too thin, with a face she had once found handsome, stepped into the room. A face that now only drew bile up her throat.
Her smile locked into place, she stood and looked past Mr. Sangton to her butler. “Thank you, Watson. Please close the doors as you leave.”
Watson paused, his greying eyebrows lifting.
She nodded at him.
He moved slowly to grab the right, then the left door and he pulled them closed.
Elle watched him until the last sliver of the hallway disappeared from view. Her gaze swung up to Mr. Sangton and the slightest fracture in her forced smile made her lower lip quiver. “Mr. Sangton, I didn’t know you had returned to the island.”
He inclined his head to her. “I just arrived last night for the upcoming ball and my uncle reported he had a visit from you. You have been a hard one to track down, Eliana. Our last meeting ended so abruptly.” He took a step toward her.
Close. Too close.
She shuffled a step backward. “I think we both know that the outcome of our last encounter at the Whitmore house party was unfortunate. And that any further interactions between the two of us are unnecessary.”
He stepped forward, swallowing the small scrub of space she’d gained. She was already regretting having Watson close the doors.
“Just because your niece’s husband interrupted our last tête-à-tête doesn’t mean we’re done.” He tilted down slightly, menace lining his brown eyes. “He was the churl that barreled in and interrupted us. You didn’t give me enough time. Not enough time to show you. Besides, that was months ago. I’ve missed you.” His hand lifted, the back of his knuckles brushing against her cheek.
She fought the urge to cringe away, only half winning the battle—her head stayed in place, but her eyes winced. “I thought Lord Troubant talked to you.”
A sneer curled his lips. “The fool talked to me. Threatened me. But I don’t listen to rabble like him—the scum isn’t our kind. Turned his back on all of us for years—the ass is better off on a ship back on sea.”
Instant fury balled into her gut. No one talked of her family like that. No one. “Mr. Sangton—”
“Mr. Sangton? Once is a slip—but twice? That’s what you’re calling me now? Say my name, Eliana.”
Her mouth clamped tight.
“Say my damn name.” He leaned forward, the threat in his voice sending cold spikes of fear down her spine.
