AllFreeNovel
Share Us
No one replied. Charlotte filled the silence with a few choice, unladylike words.
Annoyed and angry, she dragged the small table and chair to the center of the room, directly in front of the door. Whenever the door finally opened, she wanted her jailer to see her displeasure.
Charlotte poured the hot water over the tea leaves to steep. It was a shame that the thoughtful person who filled the kettle did not think to place the breakfast tray near the fireplace to keep it warm. Why would they consider her comfort? She was a prisoner, after all.
Trying her best to eat a few bites of cold porridge, she gave it up as an impossible task. Toast would do.
Using the butter knife to spread the butter and jam proved difficult with her bandaged thumb. Switching to her off hand, she made a mess, spreading the toppings in uneven clumps.
This isn’t a society event, she reminded herself. No one would judge her less-than-elegant manhandling of toast.
Having finished her breakfast, such as it was, without the arrival of her jailers, she decided to have a hot bath. Two weeks of near-constant riding on horseback or a cart left her stiff and sore. She liberally applied a scoopful of soaking salt and scented oil to the tub, swishing it together to dissolve the crystals. She unwrapped her bandaged finger. The skin was mildly inflamed but otherwise healing nicely. With the water steaming, Charlotte eased herself in. A good long soak helped ease the ache in her back and shoulders, leaving her skin soft with a lavender scent.
Lemoine found her just as she exited the washroom.
“The day is half-gone and you’re not even dressed properly,” the older woman said, appearing in the door without warning. She carried a stack of neatly folded towels.
“Don’t you believe in knocking?” Charlotte quickly tied the robe closed, face burning. The silken fabric clung to her still-damp skin.
“I knocked on the outer door,” Lemoine replied.
“You’re purposely misunderstanding, and I just got out of the bath. No one informed me of the day’s schedule,” she said, not bothering to hide her sarcasm. She was not in the mood to carefully dance around the unspoken topics of polite conversation, which prompted her next question. “Why was my door locked? Lord Draven said it was only a temporary measure.”
“Don’t be absurd. If Lord Draven said it was to be unlocked, it was unlocked. These old doors can stick and require some force to open.” She delivered her stack of towels and gathered up the damped ones.
“I understand how doors work. It was not stuck. It was locked,” Charlotte said.
Lemoine briskly went about her business, ignoring Charlotte to tidy the washroom by wiping down the counter and using a discarded towel to mop up imaginary water on the floor. She pushed up the sleeves of her shirt, revealing red welts on her inner wrist.
Bite marks.
Charlotte sucked in a breath, surprised at how angry and raw the marks looked. That had to have been painful to endure.
Lemoine scowled and shoved down the sleeves. “Get dressed. The Master is unavailable to dine with you this evening. Instead, he wants you to tour the Aerie.”
The production, the theatrics of Lemoine cleaning, annoyed Charlotte. She had a bath. She did not dump a bucket of water on the floor. And yes, she was put out that she wouldn’t see Draven that night. They shared a connection, she thought, a spark.
Beyond the physical, she had questions. He promised to answer. The lost research opportunity irritated her. Nothing more. Certainly, it wasn’t the subtle jab that her nights belonged to him, and he appeared not to be interested.
“What happened to the beast in the corridor last night?” Charlotte asked.
Lemoine paused in her cleaning. “There was no beast.”
“I heard—”
“The wind plays tricks in the Aerie. It can sound quite fierce.”
“I know what I heard,” Charlotte insisted.
“Did you see a beast?”
“Well, no.” Stringer had herded her back into her room before she could see anything.
“There you have it. Nothing more than your imagination,” Lemoine said imperiously, implying the matter was settled. “You mustn’t let such fancies carry you away. Nothing good will happen.” She paused, letting the gravity of her warning weigh upon Charlotte. “Now please dress unless you wish for the entire population of the Aerie to be intimately familiar with your dressing gown.”
Charlotte fought the urge to pull a face and sneer at the woman’s words. Instead, she walked into her inner chamber and slammed the door.
The nerve of that woman.
