AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“That’s it,” he said. “That’s the one I want.”
Chapter Eighteen:
Brandon
Brandon was back in the mansion in time to take a nap before his shift began, but he was too keyed up to sleep. He could have joined the others for dinner, but he didn’t want the inquisitive Finley to ask him about his afternoon off. He thought he might look too elated, or answer too evasively, or in some other way signal that this had not been an ordinary day. So he lurked in his room until he heard the others leave the kitchen and scatter to separate realms of the house. He emerged thirty minutes before his shift, giving him just enough time to gulp down a quick meal before Nadder came in from the garden.
“All yours,” said the other guard through a yawn.
“She’s out there tonight?”
Nadder nodded. “Just sitting under the canopy, hardly moving a muscle, but she’s there.”
“All right. See you tomorrow.”
Even so, Brandon lingered in the atrium, waiting as the rest of the house settled down for the night. The servants slept upstairs and were always quick to seek their beds, but Finley often wandered around until nearly midnight. Not today, though—she had the morning shift tomorrow and clearly wanted to get a full night’s rest. So it was only another hour or two before everyone else in the house seemed to be asleep.
Brandon returned to his room to fetch his new rucksack before heading out to the garden. The air was cool, but the day’s cloud cover had dissipated, leaving the night sky brilliant with constellations. He tipped his face up, as if he could feel starlight on his skin, then glanced into the shadows under the canopy. He couldn’t immediately make out Villette’s form, so he stepped closer, peering into the dark.
“Over here,” came her voice from the direction of the fish pond, and he hastily turned in that direction. She was sitting right on the brick border that circled the pond, and she was trailing her fingers in the water.
Brandon hefted his rucksack and went over to join her, coming to an easy crouch a few feet away. “Careful. Those fish might bite.”
“They never have before.”
He touched a finger to the brick to steady himself, and asked with some diffidence, “Can I sit with you a while?”
“Of course.”
He settled into a cross-legged pose, still keeping his distance. Despite their canvas wrapping, the bottles clinked together in his bag.
“What do you have there?” she asked.
“I was in the Zessin neighborhood this afternoon and I bought some seagrass wine. I wondered if you’d like to taste it. It’s the unofficial drink of the islands.”
“Seagrass wine!” she exclaimed. “Oh, something with such an exotic name must be either exquisite or hideous. OfcourseI want to taste it.”
He smiled. “You’ll get people who take one position or the other. My mother can’t stand the stuff, but my father used to make some every year, and he had a long list of faithful buyers.”
“Do you like it?”
“Love it. But you have to be careful, especially the first time you try it. It can go to your head faster than you think. And go to your stomach not long after,” he added conscientiously.
She laughed. “So I should limit myself to a glass or two?”
“Half a glass. Maybe a few swallows.”
“Come now. I’m not that susceptible.”
“Trust me.” He drew himself back up in a crouch. “I’ll go to the kitchen and get a glass.”
She seemed to be in a playful mood. “Nonsense. If I can only have a couple of mouthfuls, I’ll drink from the bottle.”
He laughed. “Just like an island girl.”
“I have no higher aspirations.”
He sat back down, pulled out a bottle, and pried loose the stopper. Instantly the aroma drifted out, tangy and sharp. Brandon briefly closed his eyes, smelling salt air and wood fires and the sour fragrance of the coshichi bush. Then he opened his eyes and handed the bottle to Villette with a flourish.
