Page 122
Story: Midnight Conquest
“You’re staying?” Rosselyn’s brows lifted, her voice tinged with disbelief. “Does Davina know?”
A huff bounced his shoulder. “She’s the reason I’m considerin’ it,” he admitted, his voice roughened by both grim amusement and determination. “I’ll have tae see how things fare tonight, though.”
Amice stepped forward and wrapped her frail arms around him, her tears dampening the fabric of his shirt. Her fragile form trembled against him. “Merci,” she whispered, her voice catching with emotion. “Mercifor staying.”
Broderick sighed, placing a steadying hand on her back. “Dinnae thank me yet,” he said grimly. “Veronique and I are goin’ tae have words. This obsession of hers has tae stop. And if she doesnae listen…” He let the words trail off, heavy and unspoken, but the threat lingered in the space between them.
Amice pulled back, her eyes shining with sorrow as she nodded, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I understand,” she said softly, her voice barely a breath.
Rosselyn and Nicabar exchanged a glance thick with concern before retreating to their caravan, leaving Broderick alone with Amice. As their footsteps faded, he lowered to one knee before her, his gaze intent and solemn. He took her trembling hands into his own, the chill of her skin striking against the heat of hisresolve.
“I’ll do my best tae compel her,” he promised quietly. “Even feed from her if I must. If I can influence her, I will. But I dinnae know what that will do tae her—or tae me.” His voice dropped to a near growl, roughened by both frustration and dread. “Once I’ve fed, I’ll know exactly what she did. I’ll know how deep this obsession runs, and I cannae promise I willnae…”
He broke off, the weight of unspoken outcomes hanging heavy.
Amice’s chin quivered as she nodded, her sobs wracking her slight frame. She collapsed into his arms, clinging to him as though he were her last tether to hope. Broderick held her tightly, his jaw set, his mind already steeling for what lay ahead.
Whatever it took, he would end this. For now, he needed to feed.
∞∞∞
The scratching of her pen against parchment was the only sound in the study as Davina leaned over her desk, her focus fixed on the columns of numbers scrawled in her uncle’s uneven hand. The ledgers were a disaster—entries missing, sums that didn’t add up, expenses unaccounted for. She pressed her lips into a thin line, irritation bubbling beneath the surface. This mess wouldn’t have happened if her uncle had just let her continue doing what she’d been doing for over a year. Running the estate, raising Cailin, fending off the chaos that seemed to follow her family’s every move, and she would have done it a sight better without having to deal with all this damned suitorbusiness.
She didn’t hear him at first, but something made her look up—a prickle at the back of her neck, a shift in the air. Broderick stood in the doorway, his broad shoulders framed by the lantern glow in the foyer. Tension carved hard lines into his jaw, a storm brewing in those emerald eyes.
Davina’s chest tightened, though she refused to let it show. “You’re brooding again,” she said, dipping her pen back into the inkwell. “What is it this time?”
He stepped into the room, his boots heavy against the flagstone. “You’ve injured yourself,” he said, his voice roughened with concern.
Davina blinked, momentarily confused, until she glanced down at her hand. The bandage wrapped around her burn from helping to douse the fire Veronique had set. She quickly tugged her sleeve down, hiding it from view. “It’s nothing,” she said dismissively.
“Och, woman. It doesnae look like nothin’.” He stopped in front of the desk, his gaze fixed on her hand. “In fact, I know what happened this mornin’,” he said, his voice softening. “With Veronique. I’m sorry.”
Her pen stilled, the tip hovering above the parchment. “Why are you apologizing?”
“The lass has become obsessed with me.” Broderick crossed his arms over his chest.
Davina’s throat tightened. She forced herself to set the quill down carefully before meeting his gaze. “Is that why you’re here?”
“Aye.” He crossed his arms, his expression darkening like a thundercloud. “The Gypsies are leavin’ in two or three days, but I’ll be stayin’ on. At least for a while.”
Her heart gave a painful twist. Staying? She had assumed this was his farewell, and the thought had left her hollow in a way she hadn’t dared examine too closely. But now… Now he was staying.
“For how long?” she asked, striving for neutrality in her voice though her pulse thrummed with uneasy hope.
“Until Veronique comes back. Or ’til I determine her fate.” He hesitated, his gaze softening as it met hers. “I want tae make sure ye’re safe, Davina. You and wee Cailin.”
Her chest ached at his words, but she quickly shoved the feeling aside like a foolish indulgence. “And what happens after that?”
He didn’t answer.
She forced a tight smile. “I see.”
Broderick frowned deeply. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, shaking his head as though the words tasted bitter. “I want the guards increased around the castle,” he said at last, his tone edged with command.
Davina bristled. “I’ve already managed it.”
“No’ good enough,” he replied, hands on his hips.
A huff bounced his shoulder. “She’s the reason I’m considerin’ it,” he admitted, his voice roughened by both grim amusement and determination. “I’ll have tae see how things fare tonight, though.”
Amice stepped forward and wrapped her frail arms around him, her tears dampening the fabric of his shirt. Her fragile form trembled against him. “Merci,” she whispered, her voice catching with emotion. “Mercifor staying.”
Broderick sighed, placing a steadying hand on her back. “Dinnae thank me yet,” he said grimly. “Veronique and I are goin’ tae have words. This obsession of hers has tae stop. And if she doesnae listen…” He let the words trail off, heavy and unspoken, but the threat lingered in the space between them.
Amice pulled back, her eyes shining with sorrow as she nodded, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I understand,” she said softly, her voice barely a breath.
Rosselyn and Nicabar exchanged a glance thick with concern before retreating to their caravan, leaving Broderick alone with Amice. As their footsteps faded, he lowered to one knee before her, his gaze intent and solemn. He took her trembling hands into his own, the chill of her skin striking against the heat of hisresolve.
“I’ll do my best tae compel her,” he promised quietly. “Even feed from her if I must. If I can influence her, I will. But I dinnae know what that will do tae her—or tae me.” His voice dropped to a near growl, roughened by both frustration and dread. “Once I’ve fed, I’ll know exactly what she did. I’ll know how deep this obsession runs, and I cannae promise I willnae…”
He broke off, the weight of unspoken outcomes hanging heavy.
Amice’s chin quivered as she nodded, her sobs wracking her slight frame. She collapsed into his arms, clinging to him as though he were her last tether to hope. Broderick held her tightly, his jaw set, his mind already steeling for what lay ahead.
Whatever it took, he would end this. For now, he needed to feed.
∞∞∞
The scratching of her pen against parchment was the only sound in the study as Davina leaned over her desk, her focus fixed on the columns of numbers scrawled in her uncle’s uneven hand. The ledgers were a disaster—entries missing, sums that didn’t add up, expenses unaccounted for. She pressed her lips into a thin line, irritation bubbling beneath the surface. This mess wouldn’t have happened if her uncle had just let her continue doing what she’d been doing for over a year. Running the estate, raising Cailin, fending off the chaos that seemed to follow her family’s every move, and she would have done it a sight better without having to deal with all this damned suitorbusiness.
She didn’t hear him at first, but something made her look up—a prickle at the back of her neck, a shift in the air. Broderick stood in the doorway, his broad shoulders framed by the lantern glow in the foyer. Tension carved hard lines into his jaw, a storm brewing in those emerald eyes.
Davina’s chest tightened, though she refused to let it show. “You’re brooding again,” she said, dipping her pen back into the inkwell. “What is it this time?”
He stepped into the room, his boots heavy against the flagstone. “You’ve injured yourself,” he said, his voice roughened with concern.
Davina blinked, momentarily confused, until she glanced down at her hand. The bandage wrapped around her burn from helping to douse the fire Veronique had set. She quickly tugged her sleeve down, hiding it from view. “It’s nothing,” she said dismissively.
“Och, woman. It doesnae look like nothin’.” He stopped in front of the desk, his gaze fixed on her hand. “In fact, I know what happened this mornin’,” he said, his voice softening. “With Veronique. I’m sorry.”
Her pen stilled, the tip hovering above the parchment. “Why are you apologizing?”
“The lass has become obsessed with me.” Broderick crossed his arms over his chest.
Davina’s throat tightened. She forced herself to set the quill down carefully before meeting his gaze. “Is that why you’re here?”
“Aye.” He crossed his arms, his expression darkening like a thundercloud. “The Gypsies are leavin’ in two or three days, but I’ll be stayin’ on. At least for a while.”
Her heart gave a painful twist. Staying? She had assumed this was his farewell, and the thought had left her hollow in a way she hadn’t dared examine too closely. But now… Now he was staying.
“For how long?” she asked, striving for neutrality in her voice though her pulse thrummed with uneasy hope.
“Until Veronique comes back. Or ’til I determine her fate.” He hesitated, his gaze softening as it met hers. “I want tae make sure ye’re safe, Davina. You and wee Cailin.”
Her chest ached at his words, but she quickly shoved the feeling aside like a foolish indulgence. “And what happens after that?”
He didn’t answer.
She forced a tight smile. “I see.”
Broderick frowned deeply. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, shaking his head as though the words tasted bitter. “I want the guards increased around the castle,” he said at last, his tone edged with command.
Davina bristled. “I’ve already managed it.”
“No’ good enough,” he replied, hands on his hips.
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