Page 70 of The Secret of the Three Fates
Ruan, however, had seen a woman by the ruins during the séance. What if the missing medium wasn’t missing at all, and she and Genevieve were still working together somehow—but for what purpose? I latched onto that vain hope like a sailor lost at sea, for I vastly preferred human explanations to supernatural ones.
Ruan grabbed me by the arm, pulling me into a nearby alcove.
“Iknowher.” His voice rumbled in my ear.
“Who?”
“Genevieve. I have seen her before—during the war.”
“Duringthe war?” I could scarcely believe the words coming from his lips.
He shook his head. “I don’t understand it. But Lennox saw it too. I saw it on his face when he was tending to her. He recognized her and didn’t want me to see her. The two of them had been together on the ship when Ben died. I’d stake my life on it.”
Bile rose in my throat at the thought. “You think Andrew and the medium have something to do with the murders…”
“Why else would she be here?”
Why else indeed. I stared at the empty spot where Genevieve had been lying moments before. “Andrew said the same too. He thought he recognized her and she denied it. I don’t think he was lying then—but I do think he knows more than he’s telling us.”
The room had grown empty by now except for the table, with fragrant smoke rising from the long-forgotten burning herbs.
The table.
Good God. I’d forgotten the ring in all the commotion. I darted out of the alcove as raw fear took hold. It had been a ruse—the broken window. The fainting. Whoever it was that meant to steal the ring must have planned this descent into chaos in orderto snatch it up. What a fool I was. A damned fool, and I’d played right into their hands.
I could scarcely draw breath as I rushed to the table, certain that I’d lost the ring. But there it was, sitting in the center of the table—gold winking mockingly at me in the dim candlelight. I scooped it up, sliding it upon my finger for safekeeping.
“What do you think?” Ruan asked softly.
“Fancy you asking me that.”
He let out a dark, somber laugh from behind me.
“Do you miss it? Hearing people’s thoughts?” I hazarded a glance up at him. How could this man steal my very breath without trying? It was unnatural. That’s what it was, and yet I could not look away.
“Not theirs. I couldn’t give a damn what anyone else in this world thinks. But yours?” He hesitated, his green eyes searching mine. “I miss hearing your thoughts terribly.”
“You once complained that I think too loud.”
“You do. So bloody loud that I didn’t get a moment’s peace.” He smiled, wiping away the bit of blood that had pooled again on my neck. He rested his thumb there and inhaled deeply. “It’s strange, but for the first time in my life, having you in there with me, I didn’t feel quite as alone. I had someone to share my truth with. I do missthat.”
The intimacy of his admission was too much to bear, so I did what I always did when one got too close. I feinted. “Alone? You have an entire village to take care of, you’re the least alone person I know.”
His finger rested on my pulse. “And there is not a single person there besides old Arthur Quick who I can truly talk to. And if I dared tell him I can hear other people’s thoughts? That I can… could…” His eyes drifted down to the spot on my chest that he’d somehow healed. “Ruby, they’d lock me in a madhouse,and I can’t say that I would blame them. But youknowwhat I am. You’ve seen it and you do not look at me any differently for it.”
“Because you’re only a man. No more, no less.” I reached up, touching his cheek with a sad smile. “I’m sorry for what happened. If I’d known—”
“I am not sorry.” He rubbed his rough beard on the palm of my hand like a greedy house cat. “Ruby… surely by now you know how I fe—”
I laid my hand on his lips, silencing him. “No.” And like a coward, I walked away and out into the night, leaving whatever he was about to say hanging there in the cold evening air.
CHAPTERTHIRTYA Fetid Discovery
UNWELCOMEthings—feelings.I’d known I was infatuated with the irritating man since leaving Lothlel Green, and that sentiment had only grown worse since he appeared in Scotland. Once we were shot—and I was faced with the very real prospect of losing him—I realized that my feelings ran far deeper than mere infatuation. But feelings were not to be trusted—mine least of all.
Sentiment sorted—for the time being, I darted up to my room and grabbed a woolen cardigan and thrust my trusty flashlight into the pocket. The evening was growing dark, and I was determined to prove to myself that what happened downstairs had been a farce and to find that woman Ruan had spotted. She must be the answer to what happened tonight.
How do you explain the cold?
