Page 9 of Savage Blooms
Adam looked slightly winded. Even Nicola had to admit the offer seemed lavish.
“We don’t want to make you go through all those boxes,” she said. “Maybe you can point us towards a local library or something?”
“Kirkfoyles are private,” Eileen said with a sly smile that made Nicola feel melty inside in that scared-confused-sexy way she liked so much. It was like Eileen was the cat watching Nicola the songbird out the window,dreaming of devouring her whole. “You won’t find any of my family records in town.”
“What will it do for you?” Finley asked. It was one of the first things he had said since dinner, and when Nicola glanced back at him, he was giving Adam a strange, heavy look. “When you find what you’re looking for?”
Adam looked right back at him, weighing him up with that masculine appraisal that Nicola had come to learn meant two boys were about to fight, or aggressively shake hands, or, less frequently, disappear together into a dark back room at a party.
“I’ll know myself better,” Adam said. “And I’ll know my grandfather better, and maybe then I’ll be able to move on.”
It was one of the most honest things feckless, freewheeling Adam had said this whole trip. Finley stared him down for a moment more, then nodded and dropped his gaze as though in submission.
“This is an opportunity for both of us,” Eileen said, grasping Adam’s shoulder. “I never knew my grandmother, and you knew your grandfather so well you can’t let him go. We could discover so much about them, together. How lucky that you found your way to my doorstep.”
“It is,” Adam said, gazing at Eileen with a high color in his cheeks and light in his eyes. He looked more alive than Nicola had seen him since his grandfather died, which pricked at her just a bit. She might not be a mysteriousrich weirdo who lived in a castle, but Adam was lucky to have found her, too.
“So it’s decided!” Eileen said with the brisk, single clap one might use to summon a hunting dog. “You’ll stay the night, and get some rest, and have a hot shower. Then tomorrow we’ll all get our hands dirty with a little research. Finley, you’ll help too.”
“There are fences that need mending,” Finley said, sullen. Was Nicola imagining it, or did he seem bothered by whatever electricity was crackling between Adam and Eileen too? “Bushes that need pruning. And I’ve got to feed the dogs.”
“Then go home and feed them tonight and come back tomorrow with a shining attitude,” Eileen said. “For now, I think we should all get a good night’s sleep. You’re probably exhausted from all this unexpected excitement.”
Nicola wanted to protest that it was still early in the night, that she could stay up for another hour of talking or another cup of tea or even a glass of Scotch, but now that she thought about it, she really was bushed. Adam, similarly, had a road-weary glaze in his eyes.
“You’re probably right,” he said. “You tired, Nikki?”
“Kind of,” she said, stifling a yawn.
“I’ll show you both back to your wing,” Finley said. “The house is confusing if you aren’t used to it. Lots of twists and turns.”
Adam and Nicola took their leave of Eileen, thanking her profusely for the umpteenth time, then followed Finleyup a flight of stairs that seemed entirely different from the one they had taken earlier that day. It was as though the house had been designed to confuse visitors.
“This is you, Adam,” Finley said, stopping at his door. “Have a good night.”
“You too,” Adam said, then looked at Nicola awkwardly. Why was he suddenly acting like he didn’t know how to say goodnight to her, like they hadn’t done this every night on the trip so far?
“Sleep tight, don’t die,” she said, prompting him with their customary send-off.
“Sleep tight, don’t die,” he responded, then stole one more glance at Finley before shutting himself away in his room.
Finley gave a small smile once the door latched. The expression softened his face considerably, giving him a boyish quality. Tiny, weathered sun lines showed at the corner of his eyes, the only indication of his age.
For a minute, Nicola forgot how to speak.
“My room?” she managed, barely half a sentence.
“Around the corner and three doors down,” Finley said. “And a word to the wise: the manor can be disorienting at night. I suggest you stay in your room unless it’s an emergency.”
“Got it,” Nicola said, fully aware that this was the part in the conversation where she should say goodnight. She opened the door to her guest bedroom and Finley lingered a polite few feet away as though making sure she couldoperate the light switch. He was only three or four inches taller than her, just the way she liked best, and he smelled like pine and woodsmoke.
“Anything else?” she asked.
For a moment it appeared like he wanted to say something more. But then, he just nodded.
“No. Pleasant dreams.”
“You too,” Nicola said, feeling a bit deflated.
