What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 6)

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What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 6) Page 65

by London Casey


  He did, and heard the whine of the alarm over his head. He thought it was his ears ringing. “Have to go,” he mumbled.

  “Good, you’re more coherent than I thought. Up we go.” Carrie pulled him to his feet and draped his arm over her shoulders. He always did admire a woman who could haul around a steer like it was a calf. “Where are we headed?”

  Colette grabbed his other arm and draped it over her shoulders. “The old lab, as you requested. There’s an R&R room we can convert to a bedroom. Security cameras were never installed there. I’ll check for any new listening devices, but I doubt Harper went to the trouble, since no one uses that part of the building anymore.”

  Mac grinned, looking from one to the other. “I’m in a C C sandwich.”

  “Moron,” Colette said. But she fought a smile as she and Carrie hauled him out of Medical.

  They ducked into a utility closet when footsteps pounded down the hallway, coming from the direction of Security’s main offices.

  “Colette.” Mac whispered in her ear. Or thought he whispered. His voice sounded loud in the tiny closet.

  “Quiet.”

  “I have to tell you,” he whispered softer, leaned in so she could hear him. “I think you look pretty with hair.”

  “What?”

  Carrie slapped a hand over her mouth.

  “I said,” Mac leaned closer, the hair he admired tickling his face. “I like you with hair.”

  “That’s—nice. What the hell did you give him?”

  “Oh, no.” Carrie smiled. “That’s all him. I think he means that your hair looks nice. I hope that’s what he means.”

  “Yep.” He grinned, and kissed the ear in front of him. It was there, and looked so soft.

  Colette jerked away. “God, I hope for your sake you don’t remember any of this.”

  She rubbed her ear, and Mac figured his work was done. She enjoyed the nuzzle, and whatever she and Carrie were saying, he’d try and figure it out. After he had a little nap.

  They lifted him to his feet and hauled him out of the closet. Good—he was starting to get a little claustrophobic. He kept tripping over his feet as the women rushed him down the hallway. Probably because he wasn’t wearing his boots. He never tripped in his boots.

  “Boots,” he muttered. “Need my boots.”

  “I’ll get whatever you need, as soon as we finish your escape. Now shut up and focus.”

  Focus. He could do that.

  By the time he accomplished it Colette had him sitting on a familiar, squishy R&R couch.

  “Sleep it off, Mac.” She crouched in front of him, and he reached out, tangling his fingers in that pretty hair. “What are you—”

  He cut her off with his lips.

  She tasted like mint, and vanilla, and coffee. Mac wasn’t sure why he decided to kiss her, but he found that he enjoyed it. That thought jerked him back and sobered him in a hurry.

  Dark brown eyes stared at him. He opened his mouth to apologize, to make a joke, to do something to take that look off her face. Carrie broke the uncomfortable silence.

  “I’ll go get what supplies I can grab from the nurse stations. I should be able to get enough for the next few days, but we’ll have to start thinking long term, if Mac needs to be here for any length of time.”

  “Right,” Colette said. She pushed hair off her face, stood before Mac could reach out again and touch that hair. “I’ll scrounge from Security. I also have a stash in my room I can bring over. It won’t be gourmet, but it’ll keep you from going hungry until we figure out a system.”

  “Got it.” His side itched and burned. He didn’t know which was worse. With a groan he lowered himself to the couch. The cool, slippery leather and plush cushions cradled his aching body. “I think I’ll just rest.”

  His eyes closed without his permission. He never heard Colette or Carrie leave as he dropped into sleep.

  Chapter Seven

  Once the men disappeared through the gate, Appia took Elizabeth in hand.

  “Come with me, now. We will bathe you, and I have some of my old stolas here, and a palla that will keep you warm. The hems will need to be taken up, but I can have that done while you bathe, at least with the first one. You will need to blend in, since you’re staying with us until Kane is cleared.”

  “Thank you, so much, for your hospitality, Appia. I’m sorry to barge in like this—”

  “Nonsense. I will enjoy having another woman close by; one who doesn’t resent me for being Roman.” She wrapped one arm around Elizabeth’s waist, matched her limping pace. “Once you have bathed and eaten, we will talk of what is to be done about your husband.”

  Elizabeth nodded, not wanting to add to the lies. She hated that she and Kane had to lie at all, but the thought of being separated from him because of a piece of paper helped her with the guilt. And it was far too easy to think of Kane that way; she had to keep reminding herself that it was a lie.

  Appia led her into the building next to her shop. It was simply furnished, but the interior was spotless, with a beautiful mosaic in the center of the floor, and the few furnishings obviously well crafted. Appia kept going, to a small bedroom at the back of the narrow house. “Do you need help undressing?”

  “I’m fine.” She waited for Appia to leave before she stripped off the sweater, and sat on the bed, wearing only her thin camisole and trousers. She stared at the transport on her wrist. “Where am I going to put you?”

  Without it she wouldn’t understand a word. Unless she asked to bathe alone—

  Appia returned, only the light tap on the door jamb warning Elizabeth before she walked in. Elizabeth tucked her left arm between her legs and forced a smile.

  “Sorry. I am moving a little slow.”

  “I understand. How is your head? Do you still have pain?”

  “Not bad.” Except when she leaned over. Then she had a serious case of vertigo. “Will it be possible to have some privacy while I bathe?”

  “Of course, my dear. Eógan and Hild are preparing your bath as we speak.” She lifted the basket in her hand. “I came to ask which oil you prefer.”

  “Lavender, if you have it.”

  “I do. It is my personal favorite, and my bestseller in the shop.” Appia set the basket on a small table under the window, and sat next to Elizabeth. “I understand your fear. When Marius was injured and missing, I hardly slept for my fear of him. Even now, he worries me. If not for Quintus taking over many of the duties, I would worry more than I do.” She took Elizabeth’s hand. “We will find the truth. But you must be ready, for the truth may be what you will not want to know.”

  “I know he didn’t kill that soldier, or the others.” She knew absolutely about the others, because they were in another time. “I know him, Appia. He is no murderer.”

  “Then Marius will find the true culprit.” Appia kissed her cheek and stood. “I found a stola short enough for you, and I’ll add to that, so you have a bit of a wardrobe while you’re here.”

  No questions about her strange clothes, or serious lack of wardrobe. She only packed a few changes of clothes for her, and for Kane. There wasn’t even money to offer for any of it.

  “I—thank you, Appia. For everything.”

  The older woman cradled her cheek. “As the closest thing to a wife to the commander, it is my duty. As one woman to another, it is my pleasure, and my privilege.”

  “You’re—not married?”

  Appia laughed. “Soldiers are not allowed to marry, and I refused a local ceremony when I joined him here. If he is made commander, that will change. Until then, I am content to live in sin.”

  “Oh—I didn’t mean—you acted like—”

  “A married couple.” She smiled. “We have been together for ten years, and I love him as a wife would love a husband. We are a couple in all but name, and I care little for that, unlike the rest of my family. We will marry, when Marius is able. Come,” she picked up the basket. “I will take you to the bath.”

>   Two servants were already in a small, rectangular room. Small lamps added a warm, flickering glow, highlighting the gorgeous mosaic floor. A sunken tub took up half the room, filled with steaming water. The wild haired young boy set a tray on a small folding table, and the older, more timid girl took the bottle Appia handed her, pouring a good measure of oil in the water. The sweet scent of lavender filled the air.

  “It looks—relaxing.” It looked incredibly decadent, and she didn’t expect to see it here.

  Appia laughed. “One of my indulgences, so I can avoid the public baths when I choose. Call if you need me.”

  Elizabeth watched her leave, grateful and humbled by her generosity. She didn’t have much experience with the kindness of strangers. Beyond Bridget, and the people she met in Kane’s time, her first brush with it had been the people at the art gallery in London. People who valued her opinion, her viewpoint.

  “Your bath is ready, miss.” The young girl waved her hands at the boy. “Get out, Eógan. This is women’s work now.”

  “I might enjoy such women’s work. Someday.” He flashed a smile at Elizabeth and dashed out of the bedroom. She was thoroughly charmed.

  “Please excuse his impertinence.” The girl bowed to her. “I am Hild. I am here to assist you.”

  “No!” The girl backed away, clearly startled. Elizabeth held out one hand. “I’m sorry—I can be awkward, around other people.”

  “I will do as you ask. But my mistress wishes me to assist you, since you have been recently injured.”

  Elizabeth was thankful, and annoyed. From what she’d read about Roman households, servants helping with everything was normal. “I would be grateful for the help. But I’d rather not talk. It hurts my head.”

  “As you wish, miss. I will help you undress, and these will be my last words.” Her face was sober, but amusement glinted in her dark eyes.

  Elizabeth nodded, taking off the transport and slipping it in her pocket while Hild spread out the supplies on the tray. Before Elizabeth stood up to finish undressing, the girl moved to her.

  As promised, she didn’t say another word as she helped Elizabeth strip down. With the precision of long practice she twisted Elizabeth’s waist length hair into a knot, then helped her sit in the tub. The warm water felt glorious on her aching muscles, and the lavender eased her pounding head. When Hild knelt beside her and lifted her arm, she closed her eyes, relaxing for the first time since they had left Dover Castle.

  Hild started to hum, a soft slow tune that relaxed her even more. Warm oil slipped over her skin, the girl smoothing it down her arm. Elizabeth opened her eyes, and saw a tool in her hand. She started to pull away, but Hild showed on her own arm what she was going to do.

  Fascinated, Elizabeth watched Hild scrape the oil off her skin, then move to her other side. When she touched the first arm, she was surprised by how soft her skin felt. She lowered it into the warm water, and let the girl’s gentle but firm hands oil and scrape her other arm, then lean her forward and scrape her shoulders and back.

  When Hild started to strip, Elizabeth let out a squeak. The girl smiled, pointed at her legs, then Elizabeth’s legs. With a sigh, Elizabeth nodded. For all that the girl was timid, Elizabeth was quickly learning that she was also stubborn when it came to what she considered her duty to her mistress.

  Elizabeth watched her step into the tub, and tried to relax. Hild gestured for her to scoot to the side of the tub. She touched Elizabeth’s left leg, and then straightened it, resting it on her thigh. The position took Elizabeth’s leg out of the water, but kept the rest of her submerged. She closed her eyes as Hild’s strong fingers massaged the oil into her skin, and gently scraped it away. By the time her right leg was done, she wanted to crawl into the nearest bed.

  Hild touched her shoulder when she finished and climbed out of the tub. Elizabeth held her hand as she followed, let Hild dry her, then lead her, both of them naked, into the bedroom. Thankfully it was close, and she didn’t meet up with the laughing young Eógan.

  Lamps had been lit while she was bathing, giving everything in the room a soft glow. Hild quickly dressed, and picked up the really pretty indigo gown—stola, Appia called it. She moved to Elizabeth and helped with the unfamiliar clothing, wrapping the long tie just under her breasts, and the second tie around her waist, adjusting the fabric until it draped her figure. And actually gave her a figure. Elizabeth was happy to find a pocket, and slid the transport in, draping the long shawl, what Appia called a palla, so it hung over the slight bulge in front of her hip.

  “Thank you, Hild.” The girl stared at her, and she was afraid the fabric blocked the translation. Then Hild nodded.

  “I do not receive thanks for what is my duty.”

  “Well, get used to it. I thank people when they help me.”

  The girl smiled. “I will remember. My mistress requested your attendance when you finished.”

  She walked out of the bedroom. Elizabeth figured she was supposed to follow; she limped out after the girl, her leg not as stiff. One hand reached up to free her hair, and it fell around her in soft waves.

  Appia waited for her in the front room, and held out her hands as she approached. “You look beautiful, my dear. Come sit; I have news for you.”

  Her heart skipped. By the tone of Appia’s voice, the news was not good. “Please tell me.”

  “Evidence has been found. Evidence that confirms Kane was with the victim.”

  Appia caught her as her knees buckled.

  Chapter Eight

  Kane heard the footsteps in the hall and stood. It had been hours since he was brought here, left alone with his thoughts. Servants had been his only company, bringing food, lighting the lamps scattered around the room. This time he hoped one of the approaching visitors was Elizabeth, that she was safe, that she had been treated well…

  His thoughts faded when she appeared, lamplight flickering over her. She wore a dark blue gown that swept to her feet, and hugged her slender curves. Her hair fell around her in soft waves, and from here he smelled the fresh, sweet scent of lavender.

  “Beth.” He knew he looked like a few miles of rough road. He hadn’t slept, and the throbbing in his shoulder dogged him.

  She halted in the doorway, her hands clasped in front of her. “How are you?”

  “I’ve been better.” She didn’t smile, and that worried him. “Beth—what is it?”

  “There’s evidence—” Her voice broke, and another figure appeared behind her. Marius laid one hand on her shoulder, and she looked up at him. With a nod, she turned back to Kane and continued. “There is evidence that puts you with the victim.”

  “What?” That wasn’t possible. He had nothing to do with—“You don’t believe this, do you?” She stared past him, tears shimmering in her eyes. “Look at me, Beth.”

  “I don’t know what to believe. I was unconscious, for hours. The same hours—” She cut herself off.

  Kane didn’t need her to finish. When the soldier was killed, he had been dreaming next to her bed, but it was an alibi he could not prove. He watched her struggle; for all they had been through, she barely knew him. He hoped the trust she had in him would be enough.

  “Tell me, love.”

  After an endless moment, she met his eyes. “Your earring was found in his hand.”

  Kane reached up to his ear, and remembered. He had taken it off their first night here. He swallowed, looked at her.

  “I removed it, left it on the table in our room. I was afraid it may draw the wrong kind of attention. You didn’t see it there?” She shook her head, the tears slipping down her pale cheeks. “When I couldn’t find it, I figured you had already packed it.”

  She stepped into the room, but still out of reach, her voice low. “So someone could have taken it, and you wouldn’t have noticed, until after we unpacked everything.”

  “Exactly.” He reached out to her, waited for her to recoil. “Tell me you trust me. That you believe me.”

  “
I want to.” Relief left him dizzy when she took his hand. “They keep stacking the deck against you, Kane. Right now you are their prime suspect. Their only suspect.”

  “Not for long.” Marius stepped into the room, his face sober. He looked tired, his jade green eyes dark. “I am starting an official investigation, which means all the facts will be examined.” He moved to Elizabeth’s side, his voice quiet. “Unless you are a master thief with skills we have not seen before, it would have been impossible for you to sneak into the fort and commit the first three murders. I will not watch you flogged to death for another man’s crime, not when I have the power to stop it.”

  “Thank you,” Elizabeth whispered. Marius touched her shoulder, and stepped back. The pressure around Kane’s heart eased when she moved to him and cradled his scarred cheek. “We’ll get through this, Jackson. I’m not giving up on you.”

  He turned his head, until his lips pressed into her palm. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her until they both stopped thinking. He refused to believe that this would be the last time he touched her.

  “Marius.” Elizabeth’s voice interrupted his dark thoughts. “Can you give us a minute?”

  He nodded. “Of course. I will tell both of you now—Elizabeth can’t come here on her own. Consider this a prison cell; she can only visit if she is accompanied, by me or one of my men. I’m sorry, Kane.”

  Elizabeth spoke before Kane could start cursing at him. “We understand, Marius. Thank you, for everything you’ve done.”

  He nodded to Kane, and left them alone.

  “Beth—”

  “Come here.” He didn’t need any more prompting. He wrapped his left arm around her and hauled her up to his chest. The part of his brain not overwhelmed by the scent of her, the feel of her, noticed she was careful not to touch his right side. “Now give me a proper goodbye.”

 

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