Page 126 of A Curse of Hope and Shadows: Part I
“Dimitri,” she whispered into his ear.
When he did not reply, she rolled onto her front so that their chests were almost pressed together, and traced the lines of his face, the bones of his features, the frayed edges of fur and flesh. He was beautiful in a way that didn’t make sense, that defied description, only that she knew she could stare at him for hours and felt she’d know him in any body, any form.
She did not dare stay longer, too worried about what might happen if she did.
She’d earned some time off, so she went home to her family again once Dimitri was out of bed, although the time was far from restful. It was good to be with Edie again, as well as the rest of her family, but she still felt like she wanted to fold herself away in a warm, dark room, and sleep for a week.
It was almost a relief to return to the Manor, but then there was silence and space for thoughts and fears and worries to fester, and she felt like a stuffed-up kettle. With Dimitri’s recovery, Mrs Minton had her attending on the rest of the guests with the other maids, filling her schedule with tasks that helped as much as they hindered.
“You and the Young Lord haven’t had a falling out, have you?” Mrs Minton asked one morning.
Adeline froze.No, of course we haven’t. How could I fight with him right now? How could we ever ‘fall out’?
Even when we desperately, desperately need to.
“No,” she said, unable to sound breezy. “Nothing like that.”
“Then what? Something’s clearly happened. You aren’t spending nearly as much time together and he hasn’t summoned you once.”
Adeline’s heart hammered. She was not built for lies. No matter how inappropriate it was, no matter the risks involved, she had the sudden desire to spill everything.
The bell rang.
“The Duke is coming!” someone called.
Mrs Minton paled. “Well,” she said, more calmly than her face suggested. “I suppose we better go meet him.”
Mere minutes later, the servants arranged themselves on the great stone steps to the manor, neat and dusted as they could make themselves with the little warning they’d received. Adeline stood opposite Clarin on the middle steps, marking her position in the household, trying to keep her back straight as the great black carriage hurtled down the drive, gleaming and polished in the faint dawn. It was as shiny as a beetle’s back, the great crest of the house inlaid with gold.
It shuddered to a halt, footmen hurrying for the steps as the door creaked open.
The entire household bowed, but before turning her head to watch the Duke’s descent, Adeline chanced a look back at the doors to the manor, where Dimitri stood in his finery.
He shrunk almost imperceptibly into the shadows as she heard his father leave the carriage, like a dog cowering from his master. He’d tucked his tail into his trousers, and tried to comb his hair over his left side, to hide that less human-looking part of him.
She had seen him naked, and vulnerable, lost, and in pain.
She had never seen him look so uncomfortable before.
It was enough to make her want to bolt from her spot, to go to his side, or just throw herself between the two of them like some kind of shield.
She tried to catch his eye, to let him know he wasn’t alone, but he wouldn’t look at her.
And of course he was alone.
She turned back to the carriage, and sucked in a breath.
The Duke stood on the gravelled ground, but his shadow seemed to stretch all the way to the front door. A tall, imposing man, he looked nothing like his son. His hair was black as coal, his shoulders broad and straight. He had a short, well-groomed beard, his boots black and shining, every button, every buckle on his midnight clothing immaculate and precise. She studied his eyes as he moved past; blue, like Dimitri’s, but ice cold and empty and as unlike his son’s as they could possibly be.
Dimitri stooped into a bow as he approached, and stayed there as if he hoped not to look up. “Father.”
The Duke stared at his back as if he hoped to avoid speaking to him altogether. “You look… taller,” he managed, face vacant.
Of course he was taller. He’d left behind a twelve-year-old boy and returned to find a man. Adeline’s guts twisted hotly in fury at the whole thing. Howdarehe abandon his son. Howdarehe have nothing to say to him.
The Duke did not wait for a response. He turned instead to Hughes and Mrs Minton, exchanging something like pleasantries before barking off instructions. The servants began to shuffle off as the Duke swept up the remaining steps, while Dimitri stayed behind, as if frozen in position.
Alone once more.
