Page 9 of A Raven Reborn

“I…” he paused, taking a deep breath. “I wasn’t here.” Patrick waited silently for the rest of the explanation.

“I had a drink with someone, but it was already scheduled before you brought Rosie home. I couldn’t just not show up,” he pleaded.

“She could have been hurt, or worse out there on her own, Finch.” Patrick slammed his palm against the desk and Finch jumped. “I should sack you for this. Without pay or a reference.”

Finch finally looked up from the floor, his eyes wide with panic, but before he could speak, Rosie rushed into the room, hastily tying the sash at her waist. At least she was wearing a robe of her own tonight, rather than his that drowned her.

“It’s my fault! Please don’t be angry with Finch. He did nothing wrong.” She placed herself between them, her hands gripping the edge of Patrick’s desk.

So much for being scared and timid. The corners of his mouth twitched, nearly turning up in a smile. He nodded at Finch. “Go.”

Finch nodded dejectedly. “Am I sacked then?”

Patrick shook his head exasperatedly. “Of course you’re not. Now get out of my sight!”

Relief flooded Finch’s face. “Yes, my lord!” He scurried from the room.

Rosie looked back and forth between them twice, her eyes growing wide. “My lord?”

Of course, to her he was just Patrick, which is how he wanted it to stay. He certainly didn’t want her subjugating herself to him and calling him my lord. He hated all of that, and tried his best to leave it behind when he’d left home and opened The Raven’s Den with his friends.

“Just ignore him,” he said with a sigh. He gestured to the chair in front of his desk, inviting her to sit. She hesitated, looking around nervously, but eventually sat. He followed suit and gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

“Thank you for the stew,” he said, inhaling its aroma. “It’s delicious.” He took another bite, closing his eyes in bliss. When he opened them again, she just sat, like a terrified rabbit, clearly unsure of what she should do. Where had all that courage gone?

Patrick placed the spoon back in the bowl. “I’m sorry I woke you. I shouldn’t have shouted when I knew you’d be sleeping.”

She shook her head. “I was waiting up for you, actually.”

“Waiting up for me?” Patrick felt the ice around his heart begin to thaw with those words. No one had ever waited up for him before, aside from Finch.

She nodded. “I wished to speak with you.”

“Very well.”

“You should eat that first,” she said, looking at the bowl of stew. “Before it gets cold.”

“Very well,” he said again. He certainly wouldn’t argue with that. He “Mmmm’d” with every bite he took, each one slightly louder than the one before it. By the third one, she finally smiled, and after the fourth, she even allowed a quiet laugh to escape. A laugh that made something flutter in his stomach.

Finishing the last of the stew, careful to scrape up every last drop, he wiped his mouth with his napkin and pushed the bowl aside.

“Thank you,” he said, looking into her eyes. Some of her fear had eased, but the sparkle that was briefly there quickly began to fade.

“I’m sorry, my lord.”

“No.” Patrick shook his head. “No, no, no. It’s Patrick. Just Patrick.”

“But—”

Patrick held up a hand to stop her, which he immediately realized was a very lordly behavior. “Please. In this house, I am not ‘his lordship’. Even Finch only says ‘my lord’ when I’m threatening to sack him.” He winked, trying to ease the tension, but it didn’t seem to help. She simply nodded.

“I’m sorry. Please don’t be angry with Finch. This is all my fault.”

“No, you haven’t done anything wrong.” Patrick felt like a lout. He wasn’t really even angry with Finch. He just had an inexplicable need to keep Rosie safe. She had no one and nothing, and it was the least he could do for her. With that thought a question occurred to him. Where had she gotten money to buy the ingredients?

“I stole money from Finch,” she said, as if she could read his thoughts. Patrick was relieved. He really didn’t want to get rid of Finch. He was beginning to feel like he was on some sort of emotional pendulum.

He was just about to tell her it was alright, but then she continued. “Somehow I managed to convince myself that the good outweighed the bad, and that you’d be willing to overlook what I’d done if I could just make myself useful.” The words continued to spill out of her, so Patrick just sat quietly, allowing her to get it all out.

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