Page 37 of The Secret of the Three Fates
Ruan arched an eyebrow. “I can only imagine how it was worded to intrigue you.”
It felt good to laugh. “If it had told me I’d be up to my knees in witches, curses, and murder, I might have reconsidered answering.I actually thought it would be a quiet life. A place to heal from my past.”
Ruan smiled at me, warming me to my core. “Come now, we witches aren’t that bad, are we?”
“No. I suppose some of you are tolerable.”
Lies.He was more than tolerable. He was downright dangerous—and while the White Witch had warned that I would destroy him, I had a growing fear that it went the other way. For as wild as I was, as headstrong and independent, my heart was brittle. I’d been broken by love, and the idea of actually coming to care for someone else again—to allow myself that small indulgence, was a risk I wasn’t quite ready for. And after the spectacular way both of my previous romances ended, I worried I never would be.
My stomach knotted as memories of those final days in New York returned. “Ruan, did you hear anything back from Hari?”
“Your solicitor?” He shook his head. “Nothing yet, it’s only been a few hours since I wrote him.”
“You don’t know Hari. Promise me you’ll get me as soon as you hear from him. He has saved my neck more times than I dare count since my exile from America. I need him to reassure me that Mr. Sharpe cannot be Elijah.”
“You make this island sound like you were transported to Botany Bay.”
“For a spoiled little debutante who’d never lived outside of New York, being sent to Cornwall with Tamsyn might as well have been.”
Ruan again touched my brow, running his thumb along my temple, sending a cool rush of sensation through me, and I realized how truly tired I was.
“Get some sleep, Ruby. It’s late.”
The first hints of dawn began to show its face outside the window. “Early. It’s early.”
“You are the most argumentative woman I’ve ever known.”
I yawned again into my fist, lids growing heavy. “Do you think the ring and the glass plate negatives are connected in some way? Mr. Owen said Lucy requested he bring the ring. I should look at the negatives again. Perhaps I’ll see it there? There’ll be a link or someth—”
“Bed, Ruby.” Ruan took me by the shoulders and walked me backward to the mattress. “You need sleep. You’re no good to anyone worn to the bone.” He looked down into my eyes and I leaned a hair’s breadth closer to him. His fingers traced the scar at my brow and he sighed. “I cannot bring myself to leave you tonight… all I can think about is what would have happened if I hadn’t heard you calling for me. I scarcely did as it was—I almost ignored your voice, thinking it was just—” He cut himself off before he revealed too much of his feelings, but he’d said plenty. I wasn’t the only one affected by this connection between us. The thought should have reassured me, but it only unsettled me more.
“Do you recall any of your dreams? Why you were calling for me?”
I shook my head. “I never do. I never remember the walking dreams.”
The deep divot returned to his brow. “What do you suppose you saw?”
I shook my head with a tired smile. “I’ll be fine, Ruan. We’ll figure things out in the morning, mmm?”
He gave me a worried nod and moved to the door, lingering there with his fingers on the latch.
“And Ruan?”
He turned to look at me, the dark circles visible beneath his eyes.
“Thank you for having him tell me.”
“He would have in his own time. I just nudged him to be surehe did atthistime. He’d made me vow I would not speak of the ring. I cannot… I cannot go against my word as other men do.”
“You cannot break a promise?”
He shook his head. “Owen—he does not mean to hide things, I don’t think—but when a man spends a lifetime running from his own shadow, it is difficult sometimes to bring light into such a dark place.”
“Et tu, Brute?”
Fine lines formed at the creases of his eyes. “It’s the truth. Owen isn’t used to being honest with anyone—least of all himself. We must be patient with him.”
“You are the kindest person I’ve ever met, Ruan Kivell.” I pulled my legs up onto the mattress, settling against the headboard.
