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No way in hell I’d tell her about what he’d done to me against the car! The entire conversation with Rowan tonight was being sealed in the vault. I’d examine them and how he’d made me feel later, when I could be alone with my thoughts. Grams watched me through narrowed slits, as if she was about to call my bluff.
“Fine, Moira. You can keep your secrets for now, but only if you answer my next question honestly.” The mere fact that she knew I was withholding information was irritating. She’d done it throughout my entire childhood. As if she had some way of discerning the truth by tone of voice, or something.
“Ask it then, I promise to tell the truth, Grams.”
“Did you agree to do anything with him?” I shook my head, which seemed to appease her. “You didn’t invite him over for tea, did you?” The tenseness of her tone was worrisome, as if shefearedRowan. The guy came on strong, certainly. But in all my life, I’d never known my grandmother to be afraid of anything, not even bears.
“Not that I can recall,” I admitted while trying to recall if I’d accepting his strange request to tea and scones. The fact that he’d actually stated tea with scones had conjured images of Pride and Prejudice in my head as he’d mentioned them. It was difficult to recall what I’d said in response at the nonsense my imagination was dishing up at his choice of words.
That had her eyes narrowing as she slammed the teacup down and snapped back a reply. “Did you agree toanythingelse with that man? Did you accept anything from him?”
The air in the kitchen grew thick with tension. I’d never seen my grandmother angry, let alone known her to demand answers. Well, except the one time I’d gone to make-out point with Leighton Osborne.
“No,” I stated softly as I placed my palms around the teacup to stave off the chill rushing through me. “Who is he, Grams?”
“He’s not for you, child. Rowan Teivel isn’t what he appears to be. That man’s a monster posing as a saint, and I assure you that he’s worse than anything you can imagine in your nightmares.” The air seemed to chill a degree with every word she spoke. “I was relieved you weren’t here when he returned, but it appears someone wanted you home. Pray it wasn’t him because he’s a blight on anyone foolish enough to trust him, but he’s worse on those who are tempted by him. You’re to make yourself scarce tomorrow when he comes. Do you understand me?”
“Rowan requested I be present during tea.” I slowly lifted the cup to my lips and blew across the top of it as she rose from the chair once more. “Where are you going?” I was exhausted from forcing myself to wake up before the sun rose to get here early enough to sleep in a decent bed. I’d pushed myself to stop as little as possible between the red rocks of North Dakota, and the entire state of Montana in one day. The seventeen hours of mindless driving through flat, open land had been the hardest part of the entire trip home.
“To make a couple of calls,” she stated without kissing my forehead, like she often did when our late-night tea time was finished. “Your bedroom is the same as you left it, but there are fresh sheets in the linen closet. Please remember to avoid the staircase to the attic. It’s still missing steps, and unsafe.” Pausing, she turned and leaned against the doorframe. “I’m glad you’re home, Moira. I’ve missed you more than you can imagine. There’s been a lot of changes since you left, but we’ll discuss that once you’re settled in. If you need anything, you know where it is. I love you.”
“I love you too,” I muttered to her back as she moved from the room, leaving me to finish my tea alone.
The short staircase to the second-floor didn’t give me enough time to shake the foreboding feeling of Grams words, but the nostalgia of my childhood bedroom softened it a bit. I looked around the space with older eyes and perspective. Shelves were covered in lights and held empty pottery I’d once grown plants in. The four-poster bed, which had once belonged to my mother, was just as I remembered it, right down to the length of gauzy fabric and strings of lights that acted as curtains around it.
Placing my bag on the bed, I drifted over to the hammock chair in the corner, remembering how I’d insisted it have the same sheer material draped over it as the bed had. On the mirror to my vanity were a few pictures of the few friends I’d had throughout school, my mother, and pictures of myself with grams.
The room itself was painted midnight blue, which I’d loved even though Grams had pleaded for me to choose any other color. When I’d selected black, she’d caved to the blue, claiming it was the lesser of the two evils. Smiling at the memory of our argument, I chuckled. Strolling deeper into the room, I bit my lip as steel-colored eyes invaded my mind. Shaking them from my head, I moved to my nightstand and clicked on the large quartz crystal lamp before kicking off my shoes.
Then I grabbed my backpack and headed into the bathroom to shower before bed. Every inch of my body ached, and even though soaking in a bath sounded like bliss, I regretted not allowing Grams to install a shower when she’d wanted to. Not having the energy for a bath, I elected to skip it and brushed my teeth and washed face before making quick work of braiding my hair.
After stripping down to my panties, I yanked the soft, white crop top from my bag and pulled it on. The shorts were made of the same material but had delicate ruffles on the edges.
Then, instead of crawling straight into bed, I walked to the door that opened to an attached, wraparound balcony and stepped outside. The wide southern-style balcony had creeping ivy wrapped around each post, and columns leading to the upper-level balcony, as well.
Crossing over the old, wooden boards to peer out over the meadows behind the house, I smiled at the greenery visible by the moon’s light. Bracing my hands on the railing, I inhaled the mountain air into my lungs, releasing it only after a moment.
This place was where my soul felt the lightest, and for someone who felt entirely too much, it was a relief to be back home. Even if Grams hadn’t left me that message, I was glad to be back here. Speaking of, I mused. Spinning around to retrieve my phone, I paused as one of the boards creaked loudly above me through the still of the night.
“Yes, I’m certain, Frances! He’s coming here tomorrow morning,” my grandmother hissed from where she stood on the upper balcony, directly above me. “I’m very aware of what would happen if Rowan discovers her secrets. Do you think me naïve enough to think he wouldn’t enjoy ruining her?” She paused before making a disgruntled noise. “As you know, I’ve gone to great lengths to keep her hidden! Now, it seems as if it’s all been for naught. Of course, I didn’t leave the message, you dolt.
“I’d prefer she be someplace safe from harm, especially while the hunt is afoot. It cannot be stopped now. The hunt will happen with or without us intervening. There’s simply no undoing what’s already begun. For now, she’s safe within the manor. It’s the unknown which is worrying me most. He’s demanded she be present during tea tomorrow. I fear his plans for her are more sinister and carnal than the sweet girl is prepared for. I should’ve prepared her better, but I didn’t.”
Remaining in place, I eavesdropped as she slowly paced above me. Her words sent confusion spiraling through me, and creasing over my brow.
“I know she’s sweet, Frances. I raised her, and she’s a good girl. But Teivel returning was foretold, whereas Moira’s wasn’t. Whoever is playing with the threads of our lives has to be ferreted out and dealt with before he figures out what she is. No, I haven’t told her anything, let alone the truth. She hasn’t shown any abilities of the Bishop line, and until she does, it’s forbidden to tell her anything.”
My pulse sped up as her footfalls moved farther away, forcing me to follow. Rounding the corner as she moved back toward her bedroom, I paused as the floorboard creaked beneath my foot. Grams’ footsteps stopped as she told Frances to hold on, which had me slowly lifting my foot from the board and inching back toward my door.
“I’ll call you back,” Grams stated, before the sound of her footsteps retreated into her bedroom.
I made quick work of closing and locking the door, and then I leaped into the bed, yanked the covers back, and picked up the book from my nightstand. The door opened seconds after I’d pulled out the bookmark, which hadTwilight’s Edward and Bella on it. Apparently, nineteen-year-old me thought it was ironic to use it in a copy ofFifty Shades of Grey, which I’d intended to donate after reading to avoid anyone discovering my love of smut.
I readmuchfilthier things since leaving home. Stories that were so much darker and so much more depraved that reading even the most scandalous scene in that book wouldn’t likely be enough to make my vagina pulse. I was unscrupulously wicked, but I fucking loved it and wasn’t ashamed of being so. Sexuality was subjective to the person enjoying it, and I didn’t care what others thought of my proclivities.
“I see you’re still awake, Moira Darling.” Humor sparkled in her eyes while she remained against the doorframe, scanning the bedroom.
“Yes,” I admitted, before setting the book aside. “Winding down a little before I try to sleep. I got used to the noises of the city and the hard bed back at the studio apartment I rented.”
