by Dayna Quince
“Seyburn is Leo.”
“I wonder if Odette knows his name.”
Theo beckoned her closer, taking her hand, drawing her into the darkness, and closing the panel.
Her heart pounded, and she couldn’t see anything. Theo held her shoulders, which was the only thing keeping her calm.
“Your eyes will adjust in a moment,” he whispered close to her ear. He nudged her forward. “The path is smooth stone, and there is light toward the end.”
Nic took a deep breath and let him guide her forward. Her eyes did adjust, but there wasn’t much to see but the tunnel itself. The stone beneath her feet gave way to soft dirt, and she could smell the ocean. Speckles of light grew brighter, and she could plainly see a curtain of ivy covered the entrance to this end of the tunnel. They stepped into the sun.
“That’s it?” she asked.
He scowled. “What do you mean, that’s it? We just traversed the whole length of the castle in a tunnel that may not have been opened for a hundred years.”
“But…there was nothing in it.”
“What, like corpses or treasure? I didn’t want to mention it, but we trampled a little rodent graveyard toward the end there.”
Nic grimaced. “I didn’t want to know that.” She turned and surveyed their location. “It leads to the ruins, how interesting.”
“You don’t sound that interested.”
Nic sighed. “No, I suppose I’m not. It’s Odette who’s curious about these things.”
He rubbed his hands along her back, and Nic wished she could dive into his embrace once more.
“What does interest you?”
Nic bit her lip. “Music.”
“So, pursue music.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Nothing worth it ever is. I’m learning that the hard way.”
“I’m stuck. I don’t know how to break out of this mold I’ve made for myself. Help me.”
“Tell me how and I’ll do it.”
“I don’t know how. You must tell me. How do I be bold?”
He pressed his lips together into a flat line. “This doesn’t feel right. I can’t just tell you. You have to break yourself free of it. You have to do something that shakes your very core and proves that you can be more, do more. You have to scare yourself but also prove you can survive the fear and overcome it. There is nothing more frightening than that first step.”
“What do I do?”
He grinned. “I think you know.”
She did. She could predict what he was going to say, and her pulse shot off like a bird from its nest.
“You’re going to tell me to sing, aren’t you?”
He nodded. “In front of people. Strangers.”
“Not my family?”
“No. Too easy. I want you to see your effect on a blank canvas audience. It’s the only way you’ll come to believe in yourself, to push yourself beyond the fear.”
She shivered, half excited, half afraid. But as long as he held her, she felt like she could do anything.
“And where do I find these strangers?”
“You leave that to me. Meet me tonight on the back stairs after you retire. Dress warm and for riding.”
She took a deep breath. “I thought your wild and reckless days were over.”
“The night I have planned for you is relatively bland compared to my usual exploits.”
Chapter 23
Nic met him on the back stairs, dressed in her warmest clothing. He took her hand and led her out to the back of the house as the clock chimed ten. Everyone had retired early, shaken by Bernie’s disappearance. The air was misty as they trod the path down to the stables and slipped inside. Theo saddled two horses and led them out the stable doors while Nic held them open.
“Won’t they notice the horses are gone?”
“I left a note. The stable lads are used to my antics,” he said.
Nic just shook her head.
“Are you proficient in riding?”
“I can stay on the horse as long as he’s not moving too quickly,” she said.
“Don’t worry, it won’t be a very long ride, and it will be across rather level grassland.”
“Just where are we going?” Nic asked.
“Eyemouth,” Theo said.
“Eyemouth! Across the border?”
“It’s a quaint little fishing village with a large taproom and excellent ale.” He grabbed hold of her waist. “Are you ready?”
“No, not at all. I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“You’re scared. That’s to be expected. I promise if you let yourself go, this evening will be fun.”
Nic sighed. He gave her a little squeeze on her hips, and she could no longer feel the chill in the air.
“Up you go,” he said. He lifted Nic to her horse, and then he mounted his own.
“You won’t have to do much. That’s my horse, and he’ll follow me wherever I go,” he assured her as he faced forward and kicked the horse into motion.
“We have that in common,” Nic said under her breath.
The ride was relatively fast, and even though her hands and cheeks had grown cold by the time they reached Eyemouth, she was almost enjoying herself. She’d never done anything as wild as this, and if all went well tonight, she’d have a memory to last for a lifetime. If it didn’t, she’d be adding scandal to her family, and that didn’t sit well with her. They reined in before a sizeable bustling inn. The sign read The Seven Sins Inn, painted in red letters.
“Oh, my,” she whispered.
Theo helped her dismount, and a groom led the horses away.
He escorted her to the shadows, away from the brightly lit windows.
He cupped her cheeks. “Keep the hood of your cloak on. You can’t look like an innocent. In there are all kinds of men, mostly fisherman. They likely won’t care, but just to be safe, we’ve got to give you a little bit of a…disreputable appearance.”
“How do we do that?”
He slid her hood back, and he pulled some of her hair out of its secure top knot and draped strands loosely around her face. “Now this,” he said, and he kissed her, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth and raking his teeth across the tender flesh before his tongue slid deep into her mouth.
Nic melted against him, her wits scattering, her blood turning to warm honey. Abruptly he broke the kiss.
“Good,” he said, replacing her hood. “Now you look like you’re up to something naughty. Stay on my arm. Don’t make eye contact with anyone unless you intend to speak with them,” he warned.
She nodded, unable to gather her fragmented thoughts. Theo ushered her into a room filled with the scent of beer, sweat, and mostly men aged by the sea air. A girl weaved through the tables, picking up and dropping off mugs of ale. Nic could smell yeast in the air as if bread had been baking all day.
Theo guided her to a table by a happy popping fire and took a seat, but he did not let her take the chair across from him. He pulled her onto his lap, and as the barmaid swooped in, he ordered them two cups of ale.
“I’ve never had ale,” Nic said.
“Truly?”
“Only water, lemon water, tea, wine, and once champagne,” she admitted with a slight shrug.
“You’re in for a treat tonight. The owner of the Seven Sins brews his own. In fact, he brews seven distinct flavors. Pride, Greed, Lust, Envy, Gluttony, Wrath, and Sloth.”
Nic raised a brow. “And which did you order us?”
He grinned. “Lust.”
She shook her head at him, but she couldn’t fight a smile.
Two frothy cups of liquid were set on the table, and Theo plopped down some coins for the barmaid. Nic hadn’t even thought to bring money. She didn’t have any to bring, but she was a little uncomfortable relying on his largess. He kept one arm slung around her hips as he picked up his mug of ale.
“Try it,” he said before putting the foamy brew to his lips.
Nic picked up h
er mug and took a sip, surprised by the sweet and fresh taste of the ale. “This is good. I like it.”
“Drink up, you’ll need it for our next trick,” he said.
Oh, right, the singing. Nic was going to sing for these people. She surveyed the crowd and took two large gulps the ale, filling her tummy swiftly, the drink hitting her blood with warmth. A silly sensation spread through her, and she finished her mug far quicker than she thought she would. Theo ordered them some food. The barmaid brought them a plate of braided loaf and a wedge of cheese with a knife. Nic was suddenly ravenous and eager to occupy herself with something other than the idea of having to sing for these people.
They paid her little attention. The only music in the room was an old man in the corner who lightly played the bagpipe softer than she’d ever heard. The noise of talking and laughing filled the room with strange music that was quite pleasant. Men relaxed after a long day of work, though given the time, they really ought to be home in bed. But who was she to judge? She was out here too, being wild and reckless, drinking a lusty beer on the lap of a man who made her feel all sorts of things. Lust being one of them.
It was now or never. Who knew how long this night would last. She’d never see these people again. She soon might never see Theo again. What did she have to lose?
Him.
So what did it matter whom she sang to or who heard her? Was she more afraid of that than the end of the party, the end of this…whatever it was she and Theo had? She did not yet have the faith to believe that it could be forever, not if she couldn’t even bring herself to sing for these strange yet kind-faced men.
She raised her cup. “To my first visit to Eyemouth,” she said.
“You should say it like this, hey-mooth.”
She laughed. “Why?”
“That’s how you say it with the Scottish accent,” he said. “Hey-mooth.”
“Hey-mooth,” she repeated and then giggled again.
She set down her beer. “I’m ready.”
His eyes widened. “You’re ready? Already?”
“The longer I sit here waiting, the harder it will be.” She popped a bit of bread into her mouth and chewed and swallowed. “I want to be bold. Theo, teach me the ways of your wildness.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Do you know what you’re going to sing?”
“I do. I thought about it earlier.”
“Do you want me to start you off?”
Now her eyes widened. “You’re going to sing?”
“I won’t be comparable to you, but I’ll warm the room,” he said. “You never know, they may join in.”
She took a deep breath. “All right. Warm up the room for me.”
He grinned and she slid off his lap to the chair he’d occupied, while he stood and set one boot on the opposite chair.
He lifted his mug to the room. “Come every man give his toast, fill up the glass, I’ll tell you mine. Wine is the mistress I love most: This is my toast—now give me thine.”
His even baritone filled the room with the cheerful song, and many faces turned to him with grins. The chatter quieted as they listened.
“Well said, my lad ne’er let it stand, I give my Chloe, nymph divine; may love and wine go hand-in-hand: this is my toast— now give me thine.” Another man sang—or rather—shouted back.
Nic covered her mouth and her broad smile. The other men were joining in?
The inn keeper lifted an accordion from below the bar and began to play.
“Fill up your glasses to the brink. Hebe let no one dare decline; T’was Hebe taught me first to drink; this is my toast—now give me thine.”
Theo led them in song, and now almost every man sang.
“Gem’men, I give my wife, d’ye see; May all to make her blest combine, so she be far enough from me; this is my toast—now give me thine. Let constant lovers at the feet of pale-faced wenches sigh and pine; for me, the first kind girl I meet shall be my toast—now give me thine.”
Theo grinned down at her while the men sang, their voices tinged with their Scottish brogue but not so heavy that she couldn’t hear the words.
“Spirit, my lads!” the men roared.
Nic covered her ears and laughed.
“—and toast away, I have still one with yours to join; that we may have enough to pay: This is my toast—now give me thine!”
The room erupted in laughter.
Theo offered his hand and helped Nic to her feet. The room quieted as they took note of this. Theo scooted the chair from the table and bid her to stand on its round seat.
“Now you’ll have their attention,” he said.
Indeed, the room quieted as she stood looking over the taproom. Nic took a shaky breath and prayed that her voice would cooperate. Many eyes turned to her, faces she’d never seen before, ruddy cheeks, scruffy beards, and smiles of encouragement.
Nic knotted her fingers together. “Oh, weep not sweet maid, nor let sorrow oppress thee, thy, innocent bosom should banish all fears—”
Someone hollered from the back. Nic drew a nervous breath. “Kind heaven will protect, fair virtue caress thee—” The barman began to play along with the accordion. He must know the song.
Her voice grew stronger. “And angels will pity such beauty in tears. But some cruel tyrants compassion ne’er perish and look without pity on beauty in tears. But some cruel tyrant’s compassion ne’er cherish in all their dark actions ambition appears they suffer the wretched to languish and perish and look without pity on beauty in tears.” The room grew still as every gaze focused on her, and her trembling hands stilled as something rose within her, giving power to her words.
“How blest is the heart that with charity flowith, and tranquil the bosom which virtue reveres. How sweet is the balm which kind pity bestoweth. To soften the sorrow of beauty in tears. But some cruel tyrants compassion ne’er cherish. In all their dark actions ambitions appears, they suffer the wretched to languish and perish, and look without pity on beauty in tears.”
The room erupted with applause, and Nic saw one man wipe his eyes. She smiled, and the applause grew louder. Theo handed her down and moved the chair back to its place. Nic sat and the barmaid brought more ale to the table.
The applause died down, their adoration fleeting as they returned to their own drinks, but Nic buzzed with an energy she couldn’t name as she wrapped her fingers around the cool mug.
“I can’t believe I did that.”
“But you did it,” Theo said. “Believe it. How does it feel?”
“It feels wonderful, amazing, it feels…like I could fly.”
“That is generally how wildness feels,” he toasted her and took a sip of his ale.
“What do we do now?” Nic asked.
“We enjoy ourselves before the cold ride back and let the ale fortify our blood so that we may not shiver,” he said.
Nic did just that. They drank and they talked and filled their tummies with bread and cheese until Nic couldn’t eat or drink anymore. The room tilted with cheerful dismay as she tried to stand. Theo took her arm and pulled her close.
“Perhaps that third cup wasn’t a good idea. Are you able to ride?”
She nodded and grinned at him. “I feel like I could do anything right now.”
He gathered her close. “The night is young, but I should get you home or rather back to the castle.”
She nodded. It was time. She knew they ought to go even though she didn’t want to. She wanted to stay here with him, to make this night last. Theo headed to the bar and paid the bill. Nic collected her cloak, Theo helping to drape it over her shoulders. They went to the door and Theo pushed it open.
They both froze.
Lightning flashed, illuminating every drop of rain that fell. The courtyard had turned to a great big mud puddle.
Chapter 24
How are we going to ride in this?” Nic asked.
“I can’t in good conscience have you ride through pouring rain and a thunderstorm.�
�� Theo closed the door as the wind whipped raindrops into their faces.
“What do we do?”
They both looked around the room. This wasn’t a taproom that would stay open all night. Half the occupants had already gone home, and others were gathering their coats now. He couldn’t keep her here in the taproom. They had to go somewhere. Theo checked his pocket watch, and it was nearly midnight. He muttered a curse.
“What do we do? Nic asked again.
“We have to stay, at least until the storm passes. I can’t put you in danger like that.”
“Very well, we’ll go back to the table and order some tea.”
“The taproom will close soon. They’ve already begun to clear the tables and pick up the chairs.” Nic turned and surveyed the room. The barmaid yawned as she snuffed the candles on the mantle and the inn keeper was wiping down the bar top.
“We will have to stay the night?” Nic asked. Her stomach fluttered.
His lips set into a grim line. Theo nodded. “Wait here.” He went to the innkeeper and spoke with him quietly. He exchanged some coins for a key and returned to Nic’s side. “Come this way.”
“Did you get two rooms?”
He half smiled. “What would be the fun in that?”
“Theo…” Her heart began to pound. “We can’t…share a room,” she whispered as they climbed the stairs.
“I promise I will be on my best behavior,” he said, “but I didn’t bring enough coin for two rooms. I’m sorry. I didn’t plan for this. I can promise you that.”
“I know you wouldn’t plan for this accident. You’ve been rather diligent about—about not—” She bit her tongue. They seemed to be walking a narrow path between right and wrong regarding her virtue, but spending the night together, that might be a step too far.
He slid the key in the door and pushed it open. “We can make it work. We might not have to be here all night, just until the rain stops and the skies cease thundering. The storms are usually pretty quick here, aren’t they?”
Nic nodded, her heart in her throat as she entered the room. Theo closed and locked the door and began to make a fire in the grate. Nic lit a lamp and looked around the small room. There was one bed barely large enough for two people, but the sheets on top looked clean and the pillows newly fluffed. The room was rather plain but foreign. She’d never stayed in an inn before. She sat in the chair by a window and peeked outside. The rain steadily fell, and the sky above flickered with flashes of light. She could hear the rumbling now.