Page 23 of Savage Blooms (Unearthly Delights #1)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Nicola
Adam and Eileen stayed locked in the library for hours, chatting in excited voices about whatever was in those boxes.
Nicola gave them their privacy, not wanting to insert herself too much in whatever shared quest they were on, but she poked her head in once to say hello and then again to bring in a tray of tea with honey, for which Eileen and Adam seemed grateful.
Eileen called her “chickadee” when she thanked Nicola for her hot cup of Earl Grey, which made Nicola blush.
At first, the avian pet names had felt dismissive, like Eileen was making fun of her, but they were quickly starting to feel affectionate.
After tea, Adam invited her to sit with them in front of the fire.
Nicola brought her sketchbook with her, and drew the rolling hills outside the window while she warmed her bones.
Her newest story was about a goblin, the littlest in his family, who wanted to go to school to learn arithmetic.
The pastoral environs of Craigmar made for fitting scenery, and Nicola privately hoped that she could steal a little of Craigmar’s enchantment to make her next book proposal irresistible to publishers.
Finley had become scarce, and even though Nicola knew he had chores to do and a life to live beyond that, she couldn’t help but feel injured.
She reacted poorly to perceived rejection – her therapist thought it had something to do with all that abandonment in childhood – but she still wondered how much of Finley’s disappearance had to do with Eileen making a show of tightening his leash.
She also wasn’t pleased with Finley’s failure to inform her that he was dating Eileen, quite seriously it seemed, but then again, she didn’t think either of them had expected to share that all-consuming kiss by the ocean.
Finley reappeared late in the day, his curls damp with mist from the walk over from his cottage, to suggest that they all break for dinner.
There was still some bread left over from the cave offering, and Nicola sat at the kitchen table eating a thick slice smeared with sweet butter while Finley and Eileen buzzed around preparing soup.
It was wrenchingly tender, watching these two people who knew each other better than they knew themselves bicker about how much salt to use and laugh about how bad Eileen was at chopping carrots.
It made Nicola a little jealous, having a front-row seat to such deep and abiding love.
But there was also something deliciously warming about being brought into this intimate world, like a child safe in the embrace of her parents’ love dozing in the backseat as they chatted and drove.
Adam’s presence made it even sweeter, as he sat with his knee touching hers running through possible timelines of his grandfather’s visit to Craigmar in pencil on a napkin.
At one point, probably when he thought no one was looking, Finley leaned over to Eileen and bit her shoulder while she was stirring the soup. It was an affectionate bite, and he smiled when he did it, but it was still hard.
Nicola’s stomach curled with lust at the sight, but then Finley was mincing parsley and the moment was over.
They all ate in companionable quiet, as though they had known each other for two years and not two days. Nicola kept having to swallow down emotion along with her soup, stirred up by the simple domesticity of the moment. She was doing it again, imprinting on people who barely knew her.
Nicola had always been desperate to hoard all the love in the world for herself, even to her detriment, or the annoyance of other people.
She wanted to entice Adam into cuddling with her on the couch by the fire, even though that would make things weird between them, and she wanted to crawl between Eileen and Finley and sleep there, held in the matrix of their affection for each other, but that was wrong.
She needed to be normal, or at least act normal.
“Those dogs are going to have me up bright and early,” Finley said after the dishes had been cleared and they had all finished the bread with a bit of jam for dessert. “I should get going.”
“You letting Snug and Smoo run you ragged again?” Eileen teased. “I hope they aren’t sick.”
“No,” Finley replied. “Snug’s been having nightmares, if you can believe it. He’ll cry and nose at the door until I let him sleep on the bed with me.”
“Oh, to be loved the way a man loves a dog,” Eileen said drolly.
In reply, Finley leaned down to kiss her goodbye, but Nicola caught the way his fingers threaded in her hair and tightened, just enough to sting pleasantly. The same way he had threaded his fingers through Nicola’s hair just the day before.
Nicola squeezed her thighs together under the table and forced a smile as he left, giving a little wave for good measure.
“He’s sort of gloomy, isn’t he?” Adam asked when Finley had gone, not in an unfriendly way. “Just like, in general?”
“I don’t mind,” Eileen said with a chuckle. “Girls like that sort of thing. Isn’t that right, Nicola?”
Nicola felt herself blush ferociously, and Eileen laughed brightly while Adam smirked at her, and for one shimmering moment, she felt loved so she could hardly stand it.
That night, as she lay in bed listening to the house creak in the wind, she tried to memorize the feeling of soft down pillows beneath her head, her belly full of warm soup, the security of Adam sleeping just around the corner.
There would be no telling when she felt this safe again, or this at home.
She had learned to enjoy these little stolen moments whenever she could.
The next day, Nicola woke to the sound of a gunshot.
She scrambled out of bed to peer outside the windows, wondering if a hunter had wandered too close to the manor.
Instead she saw Eileen, dressed in riding boots and a linen blouse, pointing a long rifle into the sky.
Nicola tugged on her shoes and zipped her pink puffer over her nightdress, then hurried down the stairs and out the kitchen door, propelled by curiosity and no small amount of concern. As she rounded the house, she saw that Eileen stood next to a rusty mechanical contraption.
Eileen pulled a lever, and the machine hurled a spinning object high into the sky.
“Pull!” she shouted, as though there were anyone out here who might be hit.
The lord followed the arc of the object with the barrel of her rifle, the gun held high against her cheek and braced against her shoulder, and then fired with devastating accuracy.
The object shattered in midair.
Nicola wandered over, zipping her puffer up higher. Eileen caught sight of her and gave a victorious smile.
“Morning dovey!”
“Hi,” Nicola said, resisting the urge to clamp her hands over her ears as Eileen swung the gun through the air and successfully broke another clay pigeon.
There was something a little scary and a little thrilling about standing this close to the action.
It was very similar to how she felt whenever she was in close quarters with Eileen, actually. “You’re in high spirits.”
“Nothing like bracing spring air to do the body good,” Eileen said, lowering her gun and turning to face Nicola. Her eyes were bright, feverishly so, and there was an exerted bloom in her pale cheeks.
“Were you sick?” Nicola asked delicately. She couldn’t help being curious.
“I’m always sick. That’s the definition of chronic illness.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“Why? It’s just a fact of life, nothing for you or anyone else to be sorry for.
” Eileen squinted at Nicola, as though she were a target Eileen was sighting, and then she sighed, resigning herself to the truth.
“I have chronic fatigue syndrome, endometriosis, asthma, and migraines besides. I am a veritable cocktail of ailments, and have been since adolescence. Some days are good, others aren’t. ”
“Is today a good day?” Nicola asked.
Eileen grinned with all her teeth.
“Yes, thank Christ. I don’t think I could take another afternoon caged up in my room. You and Adam caught me at a good time; I was bedridden the week before you arrived.” Eileen proffered her gun to Nicola with one hand. “Do you want a turn?”
“I’ve never even seen a gun up close,” Nicola said, shaking her head quickly. “I’m good.”
“Oh, it’s easy,” Eileen said. “I’ll show you. Stand here, in front of me. Feet shoulder width apart.”
Nicola considered begging off with some excuse about having shaky hands, or being a pacifist, but Eileen’s confidence was infectious. Besides, there was something appealing about holding a real gun, about the sensuality of the gunpowder smell in the air.
She stepped forward in the dewy grass and let Eileen place the rifle into her hands. It was surprisingly heavy and warm from Eileen’s touch.
“The safety’s on, so you don’t have to worry about shooting anyone in the foot,” Eileen said, adjusting the rifle in Nicola’s grip.
She was quick and efficient, correcting Nicola’s posture as she went.
“The trick is to not be afraid of the gun. There will be some kickback when you fire, but not enough to knock you on your arse.”
Eileen moved behind her, pressing their bodies together, and Nicola was enveloped in Eileen’s scent. She smelled like cracked peppercorn and pressed irises, and her long hair tickled the back of Nicola’s neck as the lord helped her hoist the gun into the air.
“Trust the strength of your arms,” Eileen murmured, her lips nearly brushing Nicola’s overwarm earlobe. “Look down the barrel at that little bead near the mouth of the gun, that’s your north star. And no matter what you do, don’t take your eye off the target. You want to give the signal?”
“Pull!” Nicola called, feeling silly and exhilarated at the same time.