Page 16 of The Musician and the Monster

Chapter 8

Ceridwen

Lord Winterbourne closed the door to the study behind Ceridwen, sealing them in the room together like corpses in a tomb. He crossed the room to a table near the cold fireplace and poured himself a glass of dark liquid. Only the dim wall sconces illuminated the space tonight, and those gave little comfort and no warmth, just like the rest of the manor.

“The flute is over there.” He gestured to the shelf where Jackoby had set the instrument that morning. Books flanked it, as well as the various other objects and trinkets that sat upon the shelves, including a miniature violin and other curiosities.

Ceridwen crossed to the shelves. Her hand hovered over the instrument while she scanned the various books. Only one title tugged her memory, an old history with a tattered binding. The others were a mystery, one she ached to explore. They’d had so few books growing up, less than two shelves worth in her family’s meager study, and each she treasured.

“Come sit over here and play.” Lord Winterbourne pointed to a chair near the one he’d occupied earlier that day.

Ceridwen jumped at his voice, the cool metal of the instrument digging into her palm where she gripped it too tightly. “Is no one else joining us?” she asked, turning to the sound of his voice.

He took a seat in the same chair he’d occupied that morning, with the glass of dark liquid raised aloft in a hand, elbow rested on the arm of the broad chair.

“No.”

Father wouldn’t like this. Not at all.Nor would any of the upper-class women, such as Elspeth. Ceridwen could almost hear her disapproving voice, see the lace fan waving in her hand, as she would say, “A young woman alone with a noble? A Lord Protector no less? How untoward. Truly shameful for her family and the supposed gentleman.”

She swallowed against the tightness in my throat. “Perhaps I could playoutdoors—”

“No.”

Ceridwen halted halfway to him. “Is that your answer to everything? No?”

A whisper of amusement resonated from his chair. “No.”

He’d been kind to her, especially after her slipup at dinner. But the thought of spending so much time alone with him made her squirm.

She sucked in a steady breath and asked, “Would it be possible to have my balcony unlocked so that I can play outside after I play for you?” Every night that it did not rain or snow, Ceridwen played for her mother, even in the dead of winter when her hands went numb after only one song. At least, she had before the monster attack. The last few days, she’d been out of her routine, and she longed to return to it, to show her mother she hadn’t forgotten her, even if she was staying in this manor rather than her family’s home.

She’d taught Ceridwen to play outside when she was still a young child. The stone bench under the sprawling limbs of the great tree on the south lawn had been their special place. After she passed, Ceridwen still played under that tree, mostly at night, when the sound of her song could carry to her mother in the halls of the Goddess, unimpeded by the noise of day. Her biggest fear in moving to the city was that her mother would no longer hear her songs, yet every night she’d played, she could feel her mother’s eyes on her, even from the beyond. Somehow the feeling was even stronger here than their country home. To not be able to play to her for however long she resided here was unthinkable.

Don’t tell me no,she prayed as she took the seat across from him.

“Hmph.” The glass clattered onto the table, empty. His heavy beard hid much, but Ceridwen could have sworn the hint of a smile pulled at his lips. “It’s dangerous at night, especially for a young woman alone in her room.”

Heat fled her body. “The monster? Surely with the walls…”

“You think they can keep it out?” His tone held mockery despite the twinkle in his eyes.

“You’re a noble lord.” She’d always heard many nobles had power beyond common men. “Can’t you do something about it?” As heavy silence lingered, the frustration bubbled up within her, spewing out into words. “What kind of lord cannot protect his own home, much less the city he’s sworn to watch over?”

A deep growl rumbled from his chest, more animalistic than human. Shivers crept down her back. Gooseflesh rose on her arms. Before she could think, she leaped from the chair and retreated several steps before his voice rang through the air.

“Enough. No more of this.” He slammed a gloved fist onto the arm of the chair. “Will you be playing for me, or should I find another musician who is interested in my employ?”

Ceridwen’s legs froze under her, halting her retreat. Another retort yearned to be yelled at him, but her voice wouldn’t comply, even for that. This man caused her to lose her temper more than all others combined. Bronwyn would be proud.

Unfortunately, he was the one man she could not afford to offend, not if she were to have hope of providing for her family.

Reluctantly, she reclaimed the wide chair of dark wood and crimson fabric that faced his matching one. Playing for her mother was easy, but this man… He refilled his glass from a decanter on the table as she adjusted her seat and lifted the flute from the side table.

“Apologies, Lord Winterbourne. Playing outside is important to me, and I feared not being able to do so while I stay here.”

He nodded absently, his features giving nothing away.

At length, he said, “Your room is warded. It should be safe from the monster, but I cannot offer the same protections on the balcony.

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