Page 6 of Staff of Nightfall

“It’s a long story. I’m too tired to tell it now.”

“Right.” Mother took her hand. “Come, I’ll have a servant draw a bath—”

“I just want to sleep.”

“Of course. Sleep well, Adelaide.” Father kissed the top of her head. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Chapter 3

Before collapsing ontothe plush bed in a cozy guest room, Regulus locked the door and wedged a wood chair under the handle. He wasn’t about to risk Carrick sneaking in to cut his throat in the middle of the night. He wished he knew for certain Adelaide was safe, but he would have to trust the castle was secure enough to keep Carrick from getting to her. Dreams of prowling through the castle to relieve Carrick of his head wove through his sleep.

The next morning, a short, portly servant with a balding head knocked on his door and brought in a tub, followed by several servants bearing buckets of heated water. As they filled the tub, another servant brought in a silver tray piled with eggs, ham, and potatoes. Regulus devoured the food. The balding man left and then reappeared with clothes, which he laid on the chair. He told Regulus he would wait outside to escort him to Lord Belanger after his bath.

The bath water turned repulsive, filling with dirt and blood. His bites and scratches burned. The wound on his upper arm wasn’t bad, but the one on his shoulder started bleeding afresh. He had to hold his soiled shirt on it for several minutes before the bite stopped bleeding, covered by a thin layer of clotted blood. He scrubbed himself clean then put on the clothes, a pair of brown trousers, and a dark blue shirt. They fit him well enough, if a little tight across the shoulders.

Once he’d pulled on his boots, he met the balding servant in the hallway. The man led him down several hallways and two staircases. Regulus marveled at the decorative weapons, massive tapestries, and oil paintings on the walls. He knew Lord Belanger was wealthy, but...this was impressive. The man had to be nearly as wealthy as Baron Carrick himself. Not that Regulus had ever been inside the baron’s castle. Still, Carrick hadn’t been wrong. Arrano needed some beautifying to deserve Adelaide.

The servant opened a door and motioned for Regulus to enter. He walked into a spacious room with tall, open windows, bookshelf-lined walls, a few cushioned armchairs, and a couch. Lord Alfred Belanger stood looking out a window, his hands clasped behind his back. He turned as the servant closed the door.

Lord Belanger wasn’t as tall as Regulus, but taller than average. Short, gray hair framed his square face and broad forehead. He had to be in his late fifties. Wrinkles around his eyes and mouth hinted at a playful personality, but he wasn’t smiling now. In fact, he looked murderous. He stood tall, his spine straight as a lance. His shoulders back, feet planted. A stance that conveyed authority and anticipated respect. The stance of a warrior. Of a commander.

“Lord Hargreaves.” His rich baritone was icy.

“Lord Belanger.” Regulus bowed. “Thank you for your hosp—”

“I have neither time nor patience for niceties, Hargreaves.” Belanger rubbed his temple. “I want to know your story. I’ve heard Nolan Carrick’s. I know his father, and he seems a sincere young man. He made some serious accusations against you.” Belanger’s right hand twitched like he longed to grasp a sword. “But there are many things that do not add up and he cannot explain. My daughter is...” He worked his jaw and clasped his hands behind his back again. “Hurt. I want to know how and why. So tell me your story.”

Regulus shifted. “First, Lord Belanger, I want you to know I love your daughter. I only want to protect her.”

“Sir Carrick said the same thing.”

“Carrick is a liar and villain!” He bit his tongue and tried to rein in his temper. To display proper decorum. He was starting behind, and he needed to give a favorable impression.

“Again,” Belanger said dryly, “Carrick said the same of you.”

“Of course he did.” Regulus rubbed the back of his neck, his shoulders drawing together. “My lord, whereisAdelaide?”

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