“Tell me of your schooling,” Eleanor directs from far down the table. The gleaming table is so long, I feel the need to shout whenever I speak.
I’m in the middle of explaining public school to her when the doors open at nine minutes past the hour. Eleanor watches in stern disapproval as Dare enters the quiet room.
Thank you, God, I exhale. It’s like I hold my breath when Dare isn’t with me, and it’s a habit I need to change.
Tall and elegant, he slides into a place next to me, dressed in slacks and a suit jacket, a cobalt shirt open at the collar. He looks just as at home in the suit as he does in jeans, and a bit of his dark hair drifts down over his eye. He tosses it back as he sits.
Every tiny piece of my being is relieved that he’s here, and I try to ignore the feeling.
He’s not my security blanket, not anymore.
He can’t be.
“How nice of you to join us,” Eleanor says stiffly, before returning her attention back to me. It’s as though she doesn’t want to be bothered by him, as though he’s an intrusion. But he clearly belongs here all the same.
I can’t help but steal another glance at him and when I do, I find him staring at me.
He doesn’t look away, and his eyes are a smoldering midnight sky.
I swallow hard, and Eleanor notices.
She clears her throat.
“Adair, that isn’t your chair. You know your place is across the table.”
Astonished, I stare at her. There must be twenty places at this table and only three of them are taken. Surely it doesn’t matter where he sits.
“I’ll be sitting here tonight,” his answer is cool. My relief is immeasurable.
Eleanor doesn’t push it.
“Regardless of where you sit, dinner is at seven. Promptly at seven. You know that. If you’re late, don’t bother attending.”
Dare doesn’t seem concerned. He stares back at her.
“Noted.”
His voice is deep and husky and cold.
For the rest of dinner, the only noise in the room is silver scraping against china.
It’s uncomfortable, and it’s silent.
If only Finn were here.
He’d be kicking me beneath the table, rolling his eyes, making me laugh.
But he’s not.
I’m alone.
And I’ve never felt so uneasy.
Except for when I encountered the strange man earlier.
“Is there someone else living here?” I ask suddenly, and Eleanor looks up from her fruit.
“Pardon me?” she raises her eyebrow.
“Earlier,” I explain. “I was restless so I went for a walk outside. There was a guy out there in a hoodie. He seemed out of place.”
Dare and Eleanor exchange a glance.
“What did he look like?” Dare asks me quietly, his eyes frozen on mine.
I shrug. “I couldn’t see his face, he had his hood up. He was young, though. Sort of skinny.”
Silence.
Finally, Dare clears his throat. “There’s no one else here, Calla. Aside from Jones and Sabine, we have a groomsman for the stable, but he’s an elderly man. There is a gardening team, but they come here early in the morning before anyone is out of bed.”
“Then who was it?” I ask, confused, and a bit afraid.
Dare stares at me. “Maybe you just thought you saw someone.”
I flush, because of my recent history, it’s no wonder they don’t believe me. The heat spreads to my chest, and I fight the urge to fan myself.
“I… maybe,” I finally agree.
I’m jet-lagged. I’m tired. I’m overwhelmed. It’s quite possible that I hadn’t seen him at all. Because I’d also thought my room was growling.
“I hate this place,” I mutter to myself when we’re finally released. Dare overhears me and increases his long strides so he catches up to me.
“It’s not that bad,” he tells me. “It’s what you make of it, as long as you never let your guard down.”
I glance at him, and God, I miss him.
We pass in front of a window and the moonlight bathes his face, and I want to touch his lips with my fingers.
He walks me to my room.