AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Of course.”
She hesitated, then met Paul’s eyes again. “I wonder if you’d do me a favor… Abigail brought her canary with her, only I don’t think a bird is the sort of thing we want to carry around the country. I didn’t want to hurt her by insisting she leave it, but…”
Although Alastair still said nothing and hadn’t moved, Paul felt a keen intentness continue to radiate from his direction as she quieted. After pondering for a moment, he said, “They’re popular, but I’ve never lived with one.” Plenty of canaries were bred in Norwich and more locally. “Are they difficult to care for?”
“No. Not really. I just feel she would be cumbersome on a journey, the poor thing.” She looked at him so beseechingly that he resigned himself to inheriting a new pet. “Not to mention, I think she’d be frightened by all the change.”
“Bring her here… or tell someone to bring her here… and I’ll… make sure she doesn’t die. Can’t be any different from a fern, can it?” The several potted ferns downstairs were the only dependent things besides horses and drunks he’d kept alive. Maybe Edward, too, sometimes.
Muriel laughed. “Only a little.”
By the time Muriel left through the same door she’d used to enter, Alastair had almost sorted through the shock that followed her bequeathing Abigail’s canary to Paul. It wasn’t a bad surprise to learn what the wise woman had meant, or at least to see what she’d alluded to in her hazy manner. Not only did he want to stay, he knew then that he should.
With resolve, he stood. “You didn’t have to give her anything. It’s not as though you’re wealthy. Or you’re really friends.”
“I know. And you didn’t have to help her, either. It’s not as though you’re in the business of helping.”
“Good, as long as you know,” said Alastair. The floor creaked under his steps as he came closer, moving deliberately due to his head. But Paul didn’t turn to him. “And… canaries are popular here.”
“Mm, they’ve quite a history in Norwich.” Paul nodded, then slid him a kind glance. “You seemed rather overcome by the, uh, sudden inheritance. Are you… afraid of birds? We don’t have to keep it if you are, but I should take it until I can find it a home. Between you and a canary, I’ll have you.”
“No, I’m fine with them. How’d you know I was? I didn’t even say anything.”
“Just… felt it. I just knew.”
“Hm,” said Alastair, and he tentatively reached for one of Paul’s hands. “That does follow.”
Paul took it. “Does it?”
“Of course it does. You’d just know. You’re my shrewd spirit.”
“Yours?” Compulsive skepticism seemed to be laced within the word.
But longing shone in Paul’s smile, and Alastair said, “If that’s acceptable.”
Without saying more, Paul inched up for a kiss. This time, Alastair snaked his free hand along his waist. When their lips came together, he held fast.
Paul was busy with a small but demanding evening gaggle, so it hadn’t taken much to slip away to Sykes’ neglected little cottage. It required even less acumen to break into it. Knowing Muriel was gone, Alastair felt no qualms over cornering Sykes.
Before, he’d resisted because she would have been trapped had it gone poorly. But now that she’d made her escape, he wanted to make it clear he wouldn’t allow Sykes to antagonize anybody. Soon enough, Sykes would discover Muriel wasn’t coming home and her absence would infuriate him. While Paul wouldn’t be implicated because there was no way to connect him with Muriel’s vanishing, if Alastair stayed near him, he could potentially draw him into undue conflict.
So he waited in an old, empty chair beside a table that still bore a couple of partially-filled cups. The sky fully darkened through the curtains as he sat. When the front door squeaked open, he turned his head.
To Sykes’ credit, he seemed immediately aware that something was different. Without lighting any candles or divesting himself of coat or hat, he said into his own tiny sitting room, “Who’s there?”
“A ghost,” Alastair said acridly. While the pain in his head had mellowed considerably, he wasn’t in any mood to entertain fools or brutes.
“You.”
“Me.”
“You’ve seduced my Muriel.”
“I thought I’d taken something. That’s what you shouted out her window after me.”
“Doesn’t fucking matter. What decent man would be in a girl’s room?” As he’d expected, Sykes drew a knife that glinted like teeth in the near dark. “You’ve ruined her. You’d ruin her reputation if this got out at all. You’re lucky she’s to be married so soon, or I’d never be rid of her. I should gut you.”
Carefully, Alastair rose from his seated position and looked down at Sykes, not intimidated. The man, as he often was, was pickled. He could tell by his gait. Some might manage both their weapon and their drink at once, but he didn’t believe Sykes was capable of it. “Careful who you threaten.”
