Page 39 of The Musician and the Monster

Gwen took one of Ceridwen’s hands in hers and gave it a little pat. “You’ll be fine. He’ll explain everything. Won’t you?” She cocked an eyebrow at Drystan on the question. From her tone, one would think she scolded a young schoolboy, not the lord of the manor.

He nodded, and Gwen gave one in return. “Good night, dear.”

Ceridwen’s toes curled against the stone as Gwen left, ruined dress in tow, and closed the heavy wooden door behind her. Tension filled the room, thick as porridge, but even that paled to the knot stuck in her throat.

“Please come have a seat,” Drystan said. He motioned to the chairs near the fire where two trays had been laid out on the low table between them, fully occupying the small table space.

When she didn’t move, he continued, “I’m sorry for what happened. For what had to be said and done.” He ran a hand through his hair, the icy calm of his face melting away to be replaced by something real and almost frantic. “I tried, yet in the end, I still failed.”

Her brows drew together. His words made no sense. He’d stopped his cousin…eventually. Though it stung that he hadn’t intervened earlier, that any of it had happened at all. Perhaps it was her curiosity or the genuine pain in his voice, but something drew Ceridwen across the room.

“Explain everything. Who is he? Why would he—” She balled her hands into fists. Goodness, the impropriety of it all. Maybe his cousin only meant to kiss her—a scandalous enough thing after she’d rejected him—but something about the way he had looked at her made his advances seem much more sinister. “Why did you…” She couldn’t put words into it. His indifference left her too raw, and another cut might just let her tears slip free, and she couldn’t allow that in front of him.

Drystan nodded and took a seat. He scrubbed his hands down his face before he finally began. “Malik is my cousin, as he said, though we are not close as some cousins may be.” His mouth worked in his jaw. “He’s come here before, but he did not write of his intent to visit this time.”

“You never planned to tell me about him?” she accused, keeping the high-backed chair between them and leaning on its back. The least he could have done was give her some warning about the monster of a man.

He ran his hand through his hair again, a few dark strands sticking out haphazardly in his wake. “I did not expect him to visit again, certainly not unannounced.”

As if that was some excuse. She dug her fingers into the fabric along the top of the chair. Too bad it wasn’t him they strangled instead.

Drystan’s gaze flicked from her face to her hands and back again before he slumped in the chair. With a sigh, he said, “I thought he’d dismiss your presence if he thought you were unimportant to me. I was wrong.”

Her brows arched skyward. “Is that supposed to be an apology?”

“Yes. I messed up. Miscalculated. And you paid the price for that.” His elbows rested on his thighs as he leaned forward once again, constantly wiggling in the chair. “We don’t have many guests here. I wasn’t prepared. Somewhere along the way, I becamecomplacent, and that cannot happen. I never wanted to hurt you. And when he advanced on you…I couldn’t hold back, no matter what ruse I played.”

A ruse? Truly? So why did it still hurt so badly?

“Has he left?” Ceridwen asked.

“No.”

Her spine stiffened.The idea of locking herself in the bedroom became infinitely more appealing. “Will he be quite so…rude going forward?”

Drystan’s eyes locked with hers, solemn and resigned. “I have no idea what he will do now. But I believe he learned what he wanted to know, and he’ll find a way to use that against me.”

The girl is not nothing after all.

The words chased themselves through Ceridwen’s mind. A thread of heat wormed its way into the icy chill surrounding her heart. “He wanted to know what I meant to you.”

Drystan nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving her face. The intensity of his cool blue gaze nearly stole her breath.

On silent feet, she rounded the chair and sat in its cushioned embrace, staring at Drystan across the still steaming plates of food. The rich scents had yet to stir her hunger around the knots of anxiety twisting there.

“And what am I to you?”

Her heart clenched as she waited for his response, braced for more pain and indifference.

“More than I expected, and more than I ever wanted him to know.”

The tourniquet around her heart loosened, sending heat flooding through her body. Though not the words she secretly wished for, they were so much more than the terrible callousness she’d feared. Truthfully, it was much more than she should dare hope for, given their difference in status, to say nothing of her family’s poverty.

Drystan rose with a slight groan to stand in front of the fire. The flames highlighted the dark material of his overcoat. “Malik may be here for some time,” he said into the fire before turning to her.

“You cannot send him away?”

“Unfortunately not. No.” His back stiffened. “He outranks me, my cousin, and doing so would only draw his suspicions further.” One hand clenched into a fist at his side.

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