Page 31 of The Curse of Penryth Hall
“Put the book down, Ruby.”
I tugged it to my chest with a challenging look. “Why? Afraid you’ll teach me something forbidden?”
He set the pestle down, reached across the table, and plucked the book from my hands. “Because you bled out like a slaughtered hog and I’d rather you not get any on the only link I have to what I am.”
My cheeks flamed and I leaned on the bench beside him.
“You’ll have to stay up at the house for a time.”
I arched a brow. “I’llhaveto?”
“Yes. It’s not safe for you to wander off the grounds. Especially not now.”
“It evidently wasn’t safe for me to beonthe grounds either.” I gestured toward the bruises on my throat, which were soon to be joined by many other purplish-green companions after today’s adventure.
“I don’t think it’s real, for what it’s worth,” he said as he finished putting the herbal concoction he’d made into a little clay pot and stuffed a cork stopper into the top.
“My bruises? I assure you they are, and I ache like the devil. I can only imagine how rotten I’ll feel come morning.”
“The curse. I think someone wants us to believe that there’s dark magic at play. But I’m not convinced.”
“That’s good news, right?”
“I’m not certain.” He pressed the jar into my palm, closing my fingers around it with a frown. He frowned too much.
I glanced down at the object in my hand. “What is it?”
“Put it on your wounds three times a day. It should help with the healing and minimize the scarring. Though I’m afraid this”—he lifted a finger, touching my brow gently—“this will not fade. I’m sorry for it.”
“Thank you. Truly.”
He nodded and stood abruptly, walking across the room for his coat. “As I said, you’ll be as safe at Penryth Hall as you would here. I made it clear in town that you were under my protection.”
“Your pro—” Even in my battered state, I didn’t care for the sound of that.
“It’s the only way you can be safe. I am the Pellar here. There’s a level of—” He paused, measuring his words, and then sighed. “You can’t understand the weight of that to them. They’ll mind me individually.”
“They’re afraid of you, you mean…”
“A bit.”
“Why?”
He wet his lips and glanced back down at his hands. “Do I not frighten you, Miss Vaughn?”
“Should I be afraid?” I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer.
Ruan’s nostrils flared as he left his table, coming nearer to me. He had an uncanny way of taking up too much space in any given room. Partly because of his size—he was a great brute of a man—but there was something else too, an element that had nothing to do with his physical being that spoke to something long forgotten inside of me. A deep awareness, andthatfrightened me indeed.
Iknewhim. Except he was a stranger.
He folded his arms across his chest. “Do you recall what happened earlier today? One foolish boy and a drunk old man nearly caused a mob to kill you and you wonder why I’m concerned for your well-being?”
“But if you are fearsome—”
He snorted at that.
“—then surely they wouldn’t—”
