Perfect Shadows

chapter 23

When I woke that night, Richard was waiting there at my bedside. He had an ugly tale to tell in answer to my unspoken question.

Later that afternoon, Richard told me, several of the servants had become violently ill with what appeared to be food poisoning.

I cursed, remembering the candles that I had left burning at the summons of the approaching dawn, reckoning that Poley had used the flames to free himself, then awaited his chance. If it had been a vampire who tended him, it would not have mattered, but poor, kind-hearted Lena, unable to imagine that the orders to leave the prisoner alone extended to not feeding him, had had no chance.

Without a word I dressed and crossed to the manor, where Geoffrey was waiting for me. I felt much as I had at University, awaiting the public whipping, and when the interview was over, I considered a flogging preferable to the tongue-lashing I received. I swallowed the burning sense of shame that welled in me at Geoffrey’s words, acknowledging my fault and my responsibility, and gleaning what comfort I could with the scant approbation Geoffrey had afforded me for not pointing out that I had, in fact, left orders that Poley should not be disturbed. In my former life my rash nature might have prompted a drawn blade, but I knew full well where that would get me now: flat on my back with the point of Geoffrey’s steel resting in the hollow of my throat, if I were lucky, and Geoffrey lenient. Dead, if not.