AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She had nowhere to go. Her house was in Mr. Porter’s hands. And no doubt he’d sold off anything of value that she’d abandoned. The funds left to her were meager, and she had few skills and no references that would allow her to get a job of any respectability.
As things stood now, marriage to Conor was her best—and mayhap her only—option.
“Very well, Conor,” she said finally, “I’ll marry you.”
“What the hell happened?”
Conor burst into the room, worry and fear sharpening his words.
Ellery’s heart kicked into her throat at the thunderous boom of his voice, but Jamys and Gram remained unmoved as they bent over Morgan. Stitched up the ugly gash on her upper arm.
“It’s all right, Conor,” Jamys explained without looking up.
“She’s not got your gift for healing, but she’ll recover. We’re lucky it was a dagger strike and not a clawing or we’d have the worry of mage sickness on top of everything else.”
“How did it happen?”
Lowenna stretched and stood, wiping her hands on a towel.
“She and I were returning from the village. The Keun Marow attacked at the bridge. Just at the western edge of the park.”
Conor slammed his fist into his hand. “I’ve told you to stay within Daggerfell’s boundaries. It’s not safe. Especially at night. And after Ellery found that…well it’s not safe.”
“I was summoned to attend a birth. Mrs. Nevis is before her time. And very young.”
“I don’t care if the whole bloody village is in labor. You should have told them you couldn’t go.”
It was like a bolt of lightning had struck. The moment of horrifying silence that followed fell brittle as glass. “I will not turn away someone who needs me.” Lowenna concentrated such a freezing glare at Conor that Ellery hissed, her temples instantly throbbing, and Morgan and Jamys exchanged frightened glances as if their grandmother had sprung horns—or wings. A forbidding glimpse of the true fey hidden within the shell of the tiny healer woman.
Conor met her icy gaze with his own scalding anger. “Then you should have sent for me.”
“I took Morgan.”
“And she was a great help,” he sneered. Morgan’s head shot up. “Don’t patronize me, Con. I’m more than able to handle one death hound. It was a lucky hit.”
He ran a hand through his close-cropped hair. Stalked the chamber with long, angry strides. “And if there had been more than one? Or it had been Asher himself?”
“Well, it wasn’t. I’m capable of taking care of myself.”
“I can see how capable.”
“Fuck you.”
“Enough,” Jamys shouted, the display of rare temper shutting them up instantly.
“Conor, out. Morgan is fine. Gram’s fine.” He leveled a long, thoughtful look at Ellery. Offered a strange, quirky smile. “Can you get him out of here?”
“Me?”
Was he insane? The last thing she wanted—or needed was to be alone with six and a half feet of muscle-bound, fuming Other. Especially one she’d been crazy enough to become engaged to. One she hated. One she was trying desperately not to fall for.
And wasn’t that final proof she’d lost her mind? Conor had confessed to wanting to kill her. And still she couldn’t shake the memory of the soul-shattering kisses they’d shared. The sense of being completely safe in his arms. She was absolutely the most hopeless woman she’d ever known.
She realized they were all staring at her. “Oh, all right.” She grabbed Conor’s arm. Tugged him toward the door. “Come with me. A drink will calm you down.” She risked a flash up at his grim face. “And it won’t do me any harm either.”
He allowed himself to be led down the stairs, back toward the main part of the house. He kept silent, but beneath her fingers, she felt his tension. The slow-fading anger.
Once in the library, she poured him a whiskey. One for herself. He slugged it down and poured himself another. It seemed to steady him.
