Chasing Shadows (18 page)

She quickly averted her gaze.

Holding his wounded arm bent and close to his side, Damien followed her to the door, smiling down at her with an almost sheepish expression. “Thank you for listening, my lady. It is a relief to know that I have a friend in this dreary place.”

Sarah’s lips stretched into a smile as she opened the door. “Anytime.” He turned to leave. “And, Damien?” His eyes met hers, and she knew that her friend Janice would have melted into their depths. “No more of that ‘my lady’ stuff. It’s just Sarah to my friends.”

His face changed. Gone was the swaggering Spaniard she had first met, replaced with a lost boy who had just found a companion. Sarah had a heart for strays, and it twisted in her chest at the way his face lit up with surprise and pleasure at the word “friends.” She decided right there to take him under her wing.

With a simple nod and a quick “I’ll do my utmost,” Damien strode across the hall to his own room, closing the door silently behind him.

Sarah shook her head as she latched her own door, wondering if there wasn’t a whole family left in all of Serimone. Will’s parents had been murdered, the king had been killed by—well, she was
supposed
to be working on that—Karen’s parents died in a car accident, and she and the professor barely saw each other. From what she gathered, Edith and her husband were estranged and she rarely saw her little boy, and now Sarah discovered that Damien had experienced so much pain and loss in his childhood. It was no wonder Karen longed for a normal life with the Joneses; they seemed to be the only complete family in the country!

“He was rather forward, wasn’t he?”

She whipped around at the sound of Will’s voice and watched him emerge from behind the drapes once more. She gaped at him. Had he been there the
whole
time? Her neck warmed, again contrasting against the cool metal of her necklace, a constant reminder pressing against her heart.

“What are you doing in here?” she gasped. “I thought I told you to go!”

“There was a guard below, and he might have seen me scaling the wall.” Will raised a brow, his expression sardonic. “I would have jumped down the three stories, risking bodily harm, if I had known you were in such a hurry to be rid of me.”

Sarah stood there, dumbfounded. Had he just made a
joke
? And a very sarcastic one at that. His buttons were definitely pushed, but she was too exhausted to rise to the challenge and ask him if the guard had been below the window the
entire
time.

“No, I don’t want you to plunge to your death. But you should have given me a signal or something, and I could have distracted Damien long enough for you to escape.”

Some of his fire seemed to have evaporated, but he still looked upset. That muscle in his jaw feathered out across his cheek. “You were distracting him enough already.” The words came out sounding regretful.

Sarah sighed, knowing his overprotective nature was jumping to conclusions. And despite everything, she still cared what he thought about her. “I don’t know what you think you heard, but Damien and I are just friends. Didn’t you catch that part?”

“Sarah,” he said under his breath, shaking his head. When Will’s eyes met hers, his dark blue gaze appeared troubled. “A man only gives a woman flowers if she means something to him, something more than a simple friend.”

Why did his words always hit her doubts right on the head? Yes, at first she had suspected that Damien might have been interested in her romantically, but her romance-radar had always been a little off, so she wasn’t going to jump to conclusions. But when she saw the look on his face as he left her room, she knew that what he needed most right now
was
friendship. And that much she could give him.

“A guy and a girl can sometimes be just friends,” Sarah said quietly. “I mean, look at us.” She watched his eyes—the only place where she knew she could find the truth—closely as she spoke, hoping for some sort of denial, a declaration of his feelings.

But Will ducked his head, a few locks of dark hair falling over his eyes as he backed toward the window before she could find whatever answers were there.

“I see.” His voice was guarded. He placed a hand on the ledge of the window, looking ready to vault over the sill. But he hesitated at the last moment, his knuckles paling as he tightened his grip on the stone, knees still bent. The stance made him look like he was fighting against himself and the desire to leave, but something seemed to be keeping him there.

That familiar muscle in his jaw flickered as he slowly straightened and raised his head to meet her eyes. “Is that what you want? For us to be . . . friends?”

This time Sarah was the one to pause beneath his penetrating gaze, trying to read whatever hidden message was there. The truth was that she did want them to be friends, but she also wanted their relationship to be so much more.

And if he doesn’t feel the same way?
Sarah’s heart skipped a solid beat at the thought. There would be no turning back, no reversing the words that pressed against her ribs and threatened to choke her if she didn’t say what was on her heart.

But could she really risk baring her heart to him, only to have it crushed when he didn’t feel the same way? It would destroy their fragile friendship, one that already hung by a single fraying thread, and she wasn’t sure how she could cut him out of her life completely if he didn’t reciprocate her feelings.

In her moment of weakness, a darker voice reminded her that honesty hadn’t done them much good lately; she was honest about where she’d been, and it had broken her heart when Will was honest about where
he
had been. Now their relationship was in limbo because of it, because of the truth.

Swallowing the desire to express her confused feelings, Sarah said, “I want us to be friends,” relieved when she didn’t stammer over the words.

Will’s chest swelled with air, and his lips parted as it escaped his mouth in a shaky breath. His nod was almost imperceptible. “As you wish.” Then he launched himself over the ledge.

Sarah’s eyes widened in alarm, and she ran to the window to peer down at him as he quickly scaled the wall to the ground.

With shaking fingers, she closed the window screen to keep out the cold that seemed to have found its way into her bones. Now she was alone in her new home with her few possessions, the necklace and the single rose, and left to ponder what either one meant. Her breathing was the only sound in the room—that and three words that played themselves loudly in her head:

As you wish
.

~Chapter 19~

Sarah still had not changed into one of the beautiful dresses that Damien had supplied for her when he arrived that evening to have his dressings swapped out, though he made no comment about her servant’s uniform. For some strange reason, she was hesitant to let it go.

Taking advantage of his knowledge of the castle and his association with the royals, she asked Damien—as covertly as possible—about his opinion of the royal family while she cleaned his skin, which was already looking less scorched after only a few hours. She knew this was all thanks to the miracle poultice the professor had concocted and had nothing to do with her poor ministrations as nurse.

Even though Sarah could focus her full attention on Damien’s responses now that he had discovered his undershirt, her inquiries got her nowhere: His answers about the family were either too vague to satisfy her or completely unhelpful in cluing her into who might be the phantom assassin, as Sarah had come to fondly call the king’s unidentified killer. After a few attempts to pry some information from him, she let the matter drop before he became suspicious of her intentions.

Sarah lay in her soft bed that night, sinking into the mattress, dressed in a nightgown that rested against her body like satin. Every sensation around her seemed off, and yet also wonderful and alluring—the sound of the wind gently brushing against the closed screens, the dying embers in the fireplace, the feel of her feet rubbing against the luxurious bedcovers, the soft scent of the rose on her bedside table.

Her abnormal surroundings and the problems that weighed heavy on her heart should have caused her unrest, but she was too exhausted to fight sleep when it came. She snuggled further into the covers and closed her lids with a contented sigh, thinking that she could get used to the high life.

—

She awoke feeling refreshed, luxuriating in the warmth of the bedcovers as she stretched her arms overhead into the frigid air. Hiking the blankets up to cover her cold nose, she lazed in bed a while longer and watched dust particles float lazily in the shaft of light coming through a gap in one of the window screens. It was so perfectly peaceful that she was surprised when the quiet was shattered by a hushed disagreement just outside her door.

Sarah ignored the argument and resumed her delay of the inevitable moment when she would have to leave the warmth of her bed. She was busy enjoying the first-class accommodations when her ears pricked at the sound of a voice outside. Was that Edith’s voice? The intense whisperings were too quiet for Sarah to make out, but she was almost positive that her friend was on the other side of that door.

The low discussion ended abruptly, and her suspicions were confirmed when Edith bustled into the room without so much as a knock, looking bright-eyed and flushed as she kicked the door closed behind her. Sarah made a mental note to lock her door later, though she knew that it wouldn’t keep
some
people out.

The covers fell from her shoulders as she sat up in bed, and the cold air immediately clung to her bare arms. Edith’s frown softened when she caught her wide-eyed stare.

“Good, you’re awake. I’ve brought your morning meal.” Edith carried over the heavy-laden wood tray and placed it on the bedside table. Releasing a satisfied breath, she turned her attention to Sarah.

“Don’t look quite so shocked,” she reprimanded, all at once caring and firm. “I said I would keep an eye on you, did I not?” Sarah smiled, thinking it ironic that she had thought her mentor to be abrasive her first day, and now her motherly sternness provided comfort.

Sarah folded her legs beneath her and shifted into a sitting position, relaxing into the stack of pillows. “I wasn’t sure when I would get to see you again, since we aren’t working together anymore.”

“I would have been here sooner but was prevented from bringing supper to your room.” Disgruntled, Edith huffed, muttering under her breath, “Impudent fools.”

Startled, Sarah asked, “Am I not allowed to have visitors?”

“What? Of course you may.” Edith shook her head. “No, they simply prefer to station younger, more attractive servants in the guest wing and keep the seasoned staff at their usual posts. I nearly had to strangle the maid who was supposed to bring that to you.” She motioned with her head to the tray, her chest puffing victoriously. “She was new and rather young, but quite the persistent thing.”

“But I’m guessing you won the argument, anyway.” Sarah shot her a knowing grin and received a conspiratorial look.

“What do you think?”

“Right. So she resigned?” Edith laughed, the sound a mixture of pleasure and relief, and Sarah knew she was reassured to see her in good spirits.   

Edith’s smile faded as quickly as it had come, and she looked suddenly awkward. “Have you seen the lord recently?” The words were spoken casually—almost amusingly so—but the underlying question was laced with uncertainty. Obviously, it wasn’t enough for her to simply see that Sarah was unscathed.

“Not since I changed his bandages yesterday afternoon. I’m
fine
,” Sarah added, sensing that she needed to hear the words. “We were so far off base, Edith. Honestly. I’m his nurse that he took pity on, so there’s nothing to worry about. He just wants a friend here.”

Alone in her room last night, she had been left with Will’s assumptions lingering in the air, stirring her doubt and uncertainty until they rang in the silence. But now in the clarity of daylight, Sarah knew how unfair it was to pin unfounded accusations on Damien. She wouldn’t be stupid, but she was definitely going to give him the benefit of the doubt. He deserved that much.

Edith’s eyes shifted to the untouched food, and she encouraged her to eat. She refused to join her when asked, but Sarah eventually convinced her to sit on the bed and keep her company. Edith seemed uncomfortable sitting idle, but she soon unwound and was laughing and smiling right along with her.

One hour and an empty tray later, Edith excused herself for a few minutes so Sarah could use the chamber pot, which was as embarrassing as it was tricky, before returning to help Sarah get dressed. They riffled through the wardrobe, and Sarah was shocked at the number of dresses that Damien had supplied her with; it was especially surprising when she realized that she liked every one of them.

She and Edith selected an elegant white hooded dress. Sarah felt strange about having her friend dress her, but Edith put her at ease, chatting as she helped slip the garment over the thin white gown Sarah already wore. The low square neckline revealed the silver pendant, and Edith nodded to it as she adjusted the dress on her shoulders.

“Lovely.” She caught her eye. “Is it from someone special?”

Sarah didn’t bother to mask her sigh. “I thought so at first, but now I’m not so sure.”

Edith nodded but didn’t press her. She helped her into the black floor-length coat, with thin white scroll and leaf detailing on the fabric, and pulled the embroidered dress sleeves through the arms of the coat. Then she set about lacing the sides of the coat together with black leather strings to tighten the fabric around Sarah’s midsection.

Edith helped her into a pair of elegant black lace-up boots and stood back, surveying Sarah’s appearance and tapping her own lip in uncertainty.

“What?” Sarah asked. “Should we put my hair up? More jewelry?”

“No, you have lovely hair.” She grinned. “But I should probably brush it before I let you go.”

Sarah chuckled good-humoredly, knowing how true that must be. She hadn’t seen a mirror in days and wondered how badly tangled her curls had become. “Thanks, but I can just run my fingers through it later.”

With a nod of consent, Edith walked over to the window, pulling the screen back to let in the fresh air and morning light. “Well, then! I believe you are presentable,” she declared, smiling at her. “But I must get back to my duties before I’m missed.”

Sarah watched as she scooped up the empty tray and headed toward the door. Impulsively, she said, “Thank you for being my friend, Edith.” That woman stopped in her tracks and tilted her head to the side, her face serious again.

“It is good to know who your true companions are,” she said, her lips curving with fondness. “And the next time you need me, I will fight my way back up here, if I must.”

Sarah grinned at her tenacity. “Okay.” Then Edith breezed through the door, closing it firmly behind her.

—

Life at the castle was not as exciting as she had expected.

Sarah killed some of the morning running her fingers through her messy waves as she looked through the wardrobe after Edith left, even though the two of them had inspected every item earlier. Then she wandered aimlessly around her room just for something to do, wishing she had thought to ask for a book as she ran her hands over the blank pieces of parchment on the writing desk.

She picked up the heavy wood handle of the seal and tipped it upside down, rubbing her thumb over the risen swirls and shapes that had been pressed into the bronze. On closer inspection, Sarah realized that it was different from the royal seal she had expected.

Obviously
, she chided herself. They would never give a guest—a prior
servant
—a seal with the royal family’s crest on it. This design depicted a valley with stars dotting the horizon, an eagle set in its center, and was completely devoid of any lions or crowns.

When she had rifled through every empty drawer and had run out of things to keep her occupied inside, she leaned out the window and watched the sun play hide-and-seek behind thick gray clouds, reflecting off the freshly fallen snow. It was too cold to leave the window open, but the brisk air was refreshing and smelled of winter.

Sarah strained her eyes to watch the dark little spots that were the townsfolk move through the square beyond the castle gate, which was presently closed. Once, she had imagined that the spiked tips had been fashioned to keep something or
someone
inside the castle walls. She was suddenly very aware of those walls, ones that seemed built to give the illusion of freedom while keeping its occupants prisoners in their own minds.

It was a welcome distraction when the expected knock on her door came two hours later. Hopping off the wide ledge of the window where she had been memorizing the patterns of the guards’ movements in the courtyard below, Sarah hurried to the door, pulling her fingers through her hair as she went. Her stomach fluttered—at the blessed possibility of distraction, she told herself.

Flinging the door open, she was not at all surprised to find Damien standing there. She shot him a welcoming smile before motioning him inside. Closing the door, she quickly wiped her slick palms on her dress before he could turn around. It still felt odd to have a man in her room for any reason, though she was dying for distraction, enough so that she found herself looking forward to cleaning his wound.

The corners of Damien’s eyes crinkled in a slow smile when he took in her appearance. “That was one of my favorites.”

“Oh,” she said slowly, confused. Was he complimenting her on the dress or applauding his own taste? She could tell by his face that he hadn’t meant anything by the comment, and she was coming to realize that the man had no filter. It could have been his attempt at small talk. Maybe he felt as awkward as she did—even after their “bonding” experience yesterday—and was just better at masking it. At a loss, Sarah simply said, “Well, it’s beautiful. Thank you.”

Damien nodded and ran his good hand back through his wet hair. He must have just showered, Sarah mused. Or taken a bath, as was more likely in this era. She couldn’t help sniffing appreciatively. He certainly smelled nice.

Sarah’s ears tingled in embarrassment when she realized what she was doing. Why was she even thinking about his hygiene at all?

Damien was smiling at her, and she felt a moment of panic that he had read her thoughts. “I used to dote on Isabella and loved to see her face light up, so it felt good to do something nice for someone else for a change.”

A breath left Sarah’s lips. He thought of her like a sister? That, she could deal with. Offering him a genuine smile of gratitude, she said, “Well, I appreciate being thought of, but don’t think that you have to keep giving me gifts. You’ve done enough for me already.”

“I told you, it is my pleasure.” He looked so sincere that she didn’t force the issue, though she wasn’t sure she would ever be comfortable accepting such lavish offerings from him all the time.

Folding her arms across her chest, Sarah suppressed a sudden shiver. She should have had Edith show her how to make a fire when she was here earlier.

“Are you cold, my lady?”

Her eyes went heavenward as she chafed her arms. “Damien, we talked about this. No ‘my lady’ anymore.” She smirked. “Friends don’t have to be so formal, you know.”

He smiled good-naturedly. It seemed so easy for him, and Sarah envied his constant joy in spite of his rough upbringing.

Abruptly, Damien turned and walked across the room, removing his coat and draping it over the desk chair in one fluid movement. He crouched before the fireplace and used one hand to stack a few logs of firewood inside without being asked.