Page 34 of The Curse of Penryth Hall
There was little to fear when one had nothing to lose. But I didn’t feel like talking. My face hurt.
“I just sometimes… Oh, don’t mind me. I’m emotional and lost and I… I’ve missed you.” She glanced up at me through damp lashes, so brittle and perfect that I wondered if she might shatter if I reached out to touch her. I didn’t have the heart for it. Or the stomach. I was so bone-achingly tired and sore and didn’t want to talk of the war, the past, or any of it.
So I slid back a few inches in a desperate attempt to straighten out my thoughts. “Tamsyn—”
She reached up, touching my cheek, and smiled, bridging the span between us, and wrapped her arms around me. The ache in my head grew worse with each passing second. What ought to have felt normal, even pleasant, felt achingly wrong. It was this place. The sound of the cheerful birds singing out their songs. Even her lemony scent. Every ounce of it had my internal prey creature screaming for me to run.
But before I could gather my wits, reconcile what was going on to my wayward thoughts, she brushed her lips against my cheek in a tender mockery of the love we once shared.
And somewhere in my aching head I remembered why I’d stayed away all these years. Because when Tamsyn was near I couldn’t think. The past, the present, it all came colliding together and I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t tell up from down. I was a bottle tossed upon her waves and I hated it. I scrambled away from her and nearly fell off the stone fence for my effort.
Her eyes were dark. “What… what’s wrong?”
I should never have come here. It was bad enough to have my head bashed in, entirely another to have somehow rebroken my own heart in the process.
It was only a kiss—the sort you would give your aged great-aunts should they exist. Lord knew I’d had far more exciting ones. Yet to me it was more. It was a reminder of all the reasons I should have never set foot in Lothlel Green. It would only cause me pain. I’d known it three years ago when I came for the wedding, and a wiser woman would have known it now.
I took a step back, raking my hand through my hair, wincing as I touched the raw stitches at the back of my scalp.
“Ruby…” She reached for me, concern etched in her face. “Ruby, talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”
I took another tremulous step back, shaking my head.Flickers of France danced through my mind. Of how I’d once thought I’d known her so well, the secrets we’d shared. The promises she’d made. But if I was wrong about her then, couldn’t I be wrong now? Another thought struck me, settling into my jaw with a coldness I’d never before known. My knees grew weak. Could she have killed Edward? And was that why she was sitting here all alone not twenty yards from where he’d been found?
Out of habit my hand rose to my throat for the locket chain. It wasn’t there.
Tears pricked my eyes. I’d lost it. The only remaining link to my parents was gone.
I took a second step back and shook my head, unable to form the words. My vision grew dim. I needed to get out of here. Perhaps I’d lost too much blood as Ruan said. But I knew one thing for certain—I couldn’t remain here at Penryth Hall. Not for one instant longer.
“I love you, Ruby!” she called after me, her hands limply at her side. “I always have. Let me help you. Please.”
Love? She knew nothing about love.
Angry mob or not, I was leaving Penryth once and for all. She could protect herself, for I was beyond ready to wash my hands of this whole broken affair.
As I stormed out of the orchard, I thought perhaps I did have an ounce of self-preservation coursing through my veins after all.
CHAPTERSIXTEENA Growing Storm
Icouldn’t remain at Penryth Hall a moment longer. A fact I acknowledged long before storming away from Tamsyn in the orchard. It was all too much. Too much past. Too much present. And while I might have made promises to Tamsyn, surely those were negated by the fact that I’d nearly been killed.Twice.Not to mention she’d broken her share of promises to me. I was owed at least one of my own.
By the time I’d gathered my meager possessions—including one wayward feline—and settled into my roadster, the first crack of thunder echoed across the hills, followed quickly by a downpour of biblical proportions.
Lovely.
I splashed and bounced all the way to the Hind and Hare, feeling rather pleased with myself that I hadn’t managed to get myself stuck in one of the deeper ruts. But I’d driven worse roads—albeit in an ambulance.
The innkeeper eyed me nervously as I stepped inside. If they’d thought me a witch before, I could only imagine what they thought now. Bloodied, bruised, and spitting mad, making puddles wherever I stepped.
The innkeeper stuttered a time or two while taking my information down, but accepted my money all the same. He placed a warm key in my palm. The taproom was crowded with men, all of whom kept their backs to me. Whether out of kindness or shame for what happened this morning, I neither knew nor cared. Instead, I turned on my heels and walked up the stairs head-high, as my mother had instilled all those years ago.
Let them see your spine, Ruby Vaughn. No one can take it from you.The last words I ever heard from her lips as I boarded the steamer for Southampton.
I sucked in a breath, wishing the memory of her voice hurt just a little less. One would think it would with the years, but it ached just the same.
“Be good for my head,” I grumbled, shifting my burden in my arms to take the key in a steady hand. The hallway shifted beneath me, or perhaps it was just my own exhaustion. “Nearly broke the damned thing’s what this trip did.”
A brass number 7 hung crookedly from the door. I glanced down on the key to make sure it matched. Whoever had nailed it up evidently had had a pint or two downstairs before setting off to work. A rather appealing thought were the place not full up with superstitious countryfolk prone to stoning strangers.
