Page 28 of A Fearless Heart
“Mmmm, no. Not exactly. Just…odd.”
“When did you eat last? Not counting your magic potions?”
She made a face at him. “They’re not potions. They’re medicine. Or they will be, once I get the proportions correct. And I ate dinner.”
“How much? Cook thinks you’re wasting away.”
“Cook is a busybody,” Cady said. “I had soup, and bread, and…well, that’s all. Some tea.”
“You might feel better if you had something in your gut besides whatever the hell you boiled up out there. There’s food in the kitchen.”
“Do not ring for Martha!” Cady objected. “It’s late, and I don’t want to explain myself to anyone else.”
He stood up, again reminding her of his sheer size. “I’ll go fetch something. Promise not to die while I’m gone.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
By the time Gabe returned several minutes later, Cady was feeling much better in terms of her heart rate and her breathing, though she was undeniably exhausted. He offered her a tray with several roughly cut slices of bread and a chunk of butter, along with an apple. He immediately took the apple and began to slice it with a knife he produced from nowhere. Cady nibbled on the bread, watching him.
“I don’t know anything about you,” she said finally.
“Don’t you?” he asked. “You know I served in the army, and I have an older brother, and I can slice apples very well. Here.” He placed a few perfect slices on her tray and then ate the rest of the apple himself.
“What’s your brother’s name?”
“I have two. Gerald and Gilbert.”
“What color is their hair?”
“Blond. Why?”
“Do they have blue eyes like you?”
“Yes. Runs in the family. They’re not as good-looking as me.” Gabe smiled at her.
“What makes you think you’re good-looking? Perhaps I find you hideous and I think you should wear a mask.” Cady laughed at the image, and the very idea that anyone would find Gabe Court hideous.
“Happy to if you’ve got one handy,” he agreed, showing not the slightest concern at this supposed fault in his appearance.
“Alas, I do not,” she said. “My parents held a masquerade ball one winter for Twelfth Night. That was when Mama was still alive. I wonder what happened to those masks.” She was drifting again, her mind losing focus as past and present blurred together.
“I feel as though these past few years I’ve been wearing a mask,” she said, her thoughts running to her mouth before she could stop herself. “But the mask is of my own likeness. I just hold it up in front of my face whenever someone comes near. The mask is wearing a smile, and people don’t notice that it’s just the mask, it’s not me. And I know all the things I should say and all the things people want to hear. So no one ever questions how I really feel.”
Gabe leaned forward, his gaze intent. “You mean when you get scared? How do you really feel?”
She paused, then slowly put the feeling into words, words she’d never spoken out loud before. “Like the walls are closing in on me. Like I can’t catch a breath no matter how much I want to. My heart pounds and I sweat—you’d think I’ve been running through a desert at noon, but in fact I’ve just been sitting in the parlor reading a book.”
“What causes an…let’s call it an incident.”
Cady shook her head helplessly. “Sometimes nothing at all. Or something very mundane. Once I saw a spider spinning a web in the corner of a window. And my first thought was how interesting it would be to know what the web was made out of. How does a spider know how to weave it? Why does the pattern vary? Did you know that not all the strands of a web are sticky? The spider chooses as she weaves it. But then, I thought…what if that spider bites me and I die from the bite? And just a week before you came here, a spider actually did jump on my hand. I was wearing gloves, but I was sure it had bitten me and I was going to die.”
“Was the spider the sort that can do that?”
“I don’t know. I get crates and things from all over the world. A dangerous spider could easily stow away in one. And even if it looks like a harmless spider, what if I’m wrong? It’s the not knowing that’s the worst.”
“Sound exhausting.” He leaned over her, took away the tray, and settled a blanket around her.
“It is. It was. That’s why I only stay here. I know what’s going to happen here. I just feel so unsettled anywhere but here at home. And even then, I prefer to be alone when I can. It’s the closest I get to paradise.” Cady snugged down under the blanket. She laughed softly. “Et in Arcadia ego.”
