Page 67 of Potions and Proposals
Benedict recalled that he’d turned his phone off when he’d left the reception desk. His need for some peace had won out.
“Sorry for shoving you, and I don’t care about people seeing you come and go,” he told her, loving how her big green eyes locked on his. The way she looked at him had changed, softened, though it was still full of questions. “We’ve nothing to hide or be ashamed of.”
“It’s fine – you didn’t hurt me,” she said, looking away. “Gwendoline asked me to pick up the binding cloaks. When I arrived, you weren’t here, so I was going to grab them and go.”
“I might not have hurt you, but that book did.” Benedict ran his fingers through her hair, feeling a bump forming.
“It’s nothing, really. A small bump isn’t going to kill me.”
“I didn’t know my books looked like binding cloaks,” he said, sitting her down on the edge of his bed.
“Curiosity got the better of me,” Lucinda admitted. “I wanted to see what you were reading.” Her eyes went to the gaps in the shelves.
“I donated some to the second-hand book stall for the festival,” he said, telling a half-truth. He’d already moved the books he suspected she was looking for to the cottage he was renovating, though it wasn’t time to tell her about his little passion project yet.
“Speaking of the festival, Mrs Crawford managed to get the fireworks from Willow Valley at a discount, since we’re ordering double this year.” Lucinda picked at her nails, exposing herlifelong distaste for fireworks. “We discussed the matter at that meeting you missed, after the potion failed. Maybe you should tell me why you missed it, so I don’t get our stories mixed up?”
She knows.There was no point in hiding it any longer.
“Peter brought me to see a crone not far from Willow Valley. I should’ve told you, but there wasn’t time.” He wouldn’t tell her the whole story. She didn’t need to know the crone had tried to kill them.
Lucinda rubbed the side of her head, and he took the opportunity to change the subject. “I’ll get you some ice for your head,” he said gruffly.
“Was the crone able to help? Offer any advice?” she asked as he disappeared into the kitchen. She didn’t sound angry or even upset about his meddling, which was a healthy change.
On the small kitchen island, Benedict noticed an ivory pastry box. Faye must have told Lucy about giving him and Peter the lift – not that he blamed her. The woman had enough of her own secrets to keep as it was.
“Sadly, no,” he said, untying the ribbon. The smell of pumpkin pie made his mouth water. “Did you bring this?” he called, grabbing an ice pack from the freezer.
“Faye was putting out a fresh one in the window, and I wanted to thank you for the other night,” Lucinda said when he returned. “And for this.” She held up her ring finger. It was a nice change from the other finger she usually showed him. The thought made him smile almost as much as the pie.
“Faye was working out front?” he asked, surprised. It seemed like a step in the right direction.
Pressing the ice pack to the side of her head, Lucy nodded. “She didn’t mean to tell me about you and Peter being stranded on the side of the road, but she got caught up when she mentioned you helped her with Ian.”
“I didn’t do enough,” he disagreed. Lucy didn’t say anything, and she wished he could read her mind. “Convincing Marianne to give him a job as the night porter at the bar was surprisingly easy. Figured it would keep him out of trouble at night and asleep during the day.” He didn’t want anyone to know Peter had been involved.
“That was very sensible of you. I would’ve expected you to threaten to dismember him and use his decaying carcass to fertilise the gardens,” Lucinda said. The look in her eye told him she wished he had.
“I like your imagination, but vampires don’t make the best fertiliser.” If only he had been so original with his threat. “I told him if he put hands on Faye again, I’d report him to the Order for smuggling dangerous creatures and objects.”
“Ian wouldn’t be smart enough to pull that off.”
“No, he wouldn’t. However, I’m smart enough to frame him and make sure he sees sunlight again.” Benedict winked.
“If you need some cursed objects, I have plenty,” Lucinda offered.
“You’ve got yourself a deal.”
They shook hands.
“I didn’t mean to startle you by appearing,” Lucinda said. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be here.”
“No need to apologise. I’m not normally so jumpy. I’m still on edge from visiting that crone.”
“What happened exactly?” Lucinda snapped her fingers, lighting the fire in the corner of the room. Seeing her master his element filled him with a possessive pride.
When he didn’t respond, not wanting to trouble her with his near-death experience, she merely sighed. “Well, it hardly matters. Since I still have your element, she wasn’t much help. Why do you have all these?” Lucinda pointed to the shelves made up of her favourite books. Judging from her smile, she’dnoticed. Benedict cringed at himself for not removing them all fast enough.
