Page 12 of A Honeymoon of Grave Consequence (The Unexpected Adventures of Lady and Lord Riven #2)
Uncontrollable emotions swirled within her, far too tumultuous to categorize. There were no words available that could express what she was feeling now...
At least, no words that felt remotely safe. Even the faintest hint of a logical identification, hovering at the back of her mind, made her feel as if she was suddenly teetering on the brink of a precipice, in danger of losing everything that had kept her secure for years.
It was so much easier not to speak at all! Holding his gaze and breathing quickly, she placed her hands flat against his chest and tipped her head to one side, baring her neck in wordless invitation.
Telltale amber sheened across Lord Riven’s hazel eyes in response, and an answering thrill ran through her. He took a deep, shuddering breath as she watched with anticipation.
Then he shook his head, lips curving into a rueful smile. “No, thank you, my dear. I won’t indulge myself now—not so shortly before your expedition.”
“But it wouldn’t only be for you! I...I would enjoy it too.
” Margaret felt suddenly absurdly shy under his gaze, with so much raw emotion running through her.
What if he could somehow sense it and found it hopelessly gauche, just as her aunt would have termed such a display?
It had taken her years to learn how to properly hide her feelings.
Now, she had to swiftly duck her head and focus on the silver buttons of his waistcoat only to hide her expression. ..
But he leaned even closer, folding his arms around her until her cheek was warmly pressed against his solid frame. “I know ,” he murmured into her hair. “I read your paper on the matter.”
“I remember.” She tightened her fingers around his jacket, clinging to its comforting stability. “Unlike most people, you even read the footnotes. ”
“My wife has informed me that a careful reading of the footnotes is essential for judging the worth of any argument.” His laugh was almost soundless, but she felt it against her like a second soothing embrace.
“I’ll read everything you write with pleasure for the rest of our lives, Lady Riven—but I won’t send you out to study dangerous creatures when you’re already faint from blood loss. ”
“Pfft.” She made a face against his chest. “It’s not as if you ever take too much at a time. So long as I take care with my diet?—”
“I fed from you only two nights ago,” he said firmly. “That is more than enough, and I will not risk your safety. Konrad has already offered to send up a glass of pig’s blood for me before I take my rest.”
“Ugh, pig’s blood,” she grumbled. “You hate that taste.”
“And yet, somehow, I believe I might prefer it to the experience of rising from my sleep tonight to learn that you’d fallen into the Diamantensee in a state of dizziness—or been yanked into it against your will and felt too enervated to fight back.”
A knock sounded on the door, and he stepped back, pulling his jacket gently free from her fingers and leaving her unanchored. “There. That will be Konrad with my meal now.”
Another incoherent protest rose to her lips as she watched him walk to the door...but as the demands of logic stirred within her, she forced herself to swallow it back down .
How could she argue? Rationally, he was correct.
It had been years since she’d accompanied her parents on any of their expeditions; this time, she would be conducting her own fieldwork without their expert guidance .
Of course her wits should be at their sharpest for her first interactions with the nixen; otherwise, how could she make full use of that rare opportunity?
Any sensible scholar would spend the next few hours preparing for that meeting with an in-depth review of every relevant note or reference to the legendary key she sought and the powerful water spirits who might be its guardians.
And yet...
Closing the door behind Konrad after an exchange of pleasantries that Margaret barely heard, Lord Riven lifted his full glass of blood in a rueful toast. “You see, my dear? My needs are fully met. You may safely focus on your own preparations.”
“Of course.” Margaret sank into her seat at the vanity before the mirror, organizing her papers and books before her with automatic care. Inside, though, none of her emotions would allow themselves to be so neatly shuffled into order.
She had never before struggled to focus on her studies. But for the first time that she could remember, all of her instincts were tugging her in a different, entirely un-scholarly direction...and insisting that she had left something essential undone in the room behind her.
...Or was that actually: unspoken?
Ugh, feelings made no sense! She was still simmering over the outrageous disconnect between her clamoring instincts and her brain two hours later as she left behind her rigidly still, unbreathing husband, the bed eerily empty in their mirror, and stalked down the long corridor and then the main staircase to meet Leonie by the inn’s front door.
The nachzehrer was, as usual, clad in plain black robes, ornamented only by a harsh-looking rope that she’d tied around her middle like a belt. She raised her hood over her bare head as Margaret approached, hiding her expression, but her red eyes glowed from within its shadows. “Ready?”
“Almost.” Distracted or not, Margaret had read through every mention of nixen in the books that she’d unpacked, so she knew there was one more piece of preparation to fulfill. “Do you know how to find the kitchen?”
“No need. Konrad already packed you food and drink. See?” Leonie jerked her hooded head towards a small side table that was almost hidden in the shadows of the great staircase.
The picnic basket that sat atop it was full of gleaming red apples and carefully wrapped cheese, as well as a small flask of cider and an empty cup. “Oh, this is perfect,” Margaret murmured as she looked through the selection. “How did he know what I would need?”
Leonie gave a jerky shrug. “He knew we’d be out for hours, didn’t he? He looked through those maps, as well. He’d never let you go hungry now that you’re one of us.”
One of us . For a moment, Margaret simply let that impossible phrase ring through her arrested body. Then she drew a deep breath and cast aside all irrelevant emotions. “And now it’s time to work!”
Thank goodness, there were no disruptive envelopes lurking on the front door step this time; only a pile of waiting newspapers with headlines that trumpeted warnings of tension across the continent.
Margaret was only too happy to disregard them all and focus on her own local surroundings.
The sky above the inn’s small clearing was grey and overcast, but the early morning air felt pleasantly cool against her skin.
A light breeze carried the beckoning scent of pine sap, and the vast, rustling walls of the forest loomed ahead.
Margaret strode into the green world of the Black Forest, ready to explore every mystery safely unconnected to her own heart.
The Diamantensee was significantly further from the inn than yesterday’s waterfall.
However, today she had the advantage of an updated and corrected map, as well as the brass pocket compass whose fabulously modern design had been praised to the skies by the shopkeeper in Paris who’d sold it to her.
Still, it took a surprising amount of concentration to find the right direction through the trees, with the thick forest canopy overhead obscuring the angle of the clouded sun and tinting the air around her in an eerie, dusky green glow that made the day feel oddly timeless.
Even the magnetic needle of her new compass swung wildly back and forth in indecision as if it, too, were cut off from all ordinary signposts.
Could an implanted supernatural artifact affect the magnetic signals of the earth both beneath and around it?
Now, that would be an intriguing question to address!
Particularly as these new pocket compasses became more widely available and more statistical evidence could be gathered from around the world. ..
But Margaret had only just begun to consider the matter when Leonie suddenly spoke, her voice harsh. “No one else can hear us anymore, so you may as well tell me the truth.”
“I beg your pardon?” Shaken out of her absorption, Margaret turned and found that the nachzehrer had come to a halt on the moss-covered ground, crossing her black-robed arms across her chest and bracing herself in what looked like self-defense.
Blinking, Margaret cast her mind back over the last few minutes of their hike. She couldn’t think of any sound she’d uttered that could possibly have elicited that response. “I don’t think I can have heard you properly.”
“Well, I’ve heard everything you’ve said about your work.
” Leonie had lowered her hood as soon as they’d stepped into the shade of the forest. Now, her smooth, pale head was tinted green, her red eyes shadowed, and her face set in hard, defiant lines.
“But I’ve been thinking about it ever since we all met last night, and one thing doesn’t ring true no matter how I look at it.
You said you don’t think it’s a curse or an abomination to be a supernatural like me or anyone else at the inn. ”
“Because it isn’t.” Margaret frowned, searching the girl’s fierce expression for clues.
She knew herself to be poor at guessing at other people’s feelings, but Leonie’s voice sounded more hurt than angry.
“Why in the world would you imagine that I was lying about that? I’ve made the supernatural the focus of my life’s work. How could I disdain it?”
“Yesterday, you told me, because of the extra time I gained, that you would consider my transformation a gift .” The word emerged from the nachzehrer’s lips as a bitter snarl.