Page 6 of The Thief’s Lord (Catkin Trilogy #3)

Gareth

T he little mouse who called himself Erlin trembled beneath my touch.

After a failed attempt at escape, any catkin might be overcome with anger or fear.

Erlin kept his spine stiff. Only the flick of his tail and ears betrayed him.

Beneath the grime and flaking mud, those red lips were set in a thin line, betraying his tension.

My little mouse was torn. I could read it in those green eyes that attempted to avoid my searching gaze—regret and fear mixed together… and something else.

I stepped back and allowed Mellin and Mrs. Malmsey to finish the arrangements for the bath.

Behind the folding screen, I could hear the soft clink of chains as Erlin finished stripping down and then a light splashing as he stepped into the water.

Mellin and Mrs. Malmsey retreated to the servants’ quarters, leaving me alone.

In my bedroom, Alfwyn prepared my chambers for the evening and remained close by should Erlin require help.

Sitting in my armchair, I tried to focus on my book and pipe, but more often than not, the letters on the page blurred as my thoughts drifted.

My ears strained to catch the gentle ripples of water, the squelch of a sponge, and the wet plop of a wash cloth.

After what felt like forever, my captive’s voice broke into my tumultuous, wayward thoughts.

“Now… is this the part where you take me to bed unwillingly?”

I nearly started out of my skin as the soft tones of Erlin’s voice brought to life half-considered dreams of— Gods, Gareth, get a hold of yourself! This instant!

Inhaling and then exhaling evenly, I opened my eyes.

Before me, two pale, slender feet stood planted on my rug.

Well-turned, delicate bones. Gracefully sculpted ankles that led up to taut muscled calves.

And knees. I had never considered myself obsessed by knees, but these ones demanded instant worship.

My tongue flicked out to wet my lower lip before I could stop myself.

My gaze drifted upward to the glimpse of thighs and the edge of the thick towel wound about the slender frame of my prisoner.

“Want to see more?” He asked softly, allowing those pert lips to fall half open and shooting me a sultry stare.

Erlin half turned and allowed the towel to fall a little, revealing a narrow back and the hard leafwork of muscle and bone.

Now mottled with yellow and blue and black.

Free of mud and grime, I could see the redness of the skin on his wrists where the chains shifted.

His head turned a little, hiding the marks on his face, to present a picturesque profile.

Intentionally pleasing to the eye. The minx.

Smiling, I rose. In any other circumstance, I would kiss those lips, invite the tomcat into a dance of passion.

I would gently unwind the towel and sample the delights therein.

That is another world and place , I mused sadly.

If we had met as Gareth and… Erlin. If that is even his real name.

I fancied not. Little Mouse didn’t feel like an Erlin to me.

However, I could not find within me anger about his lies.

I understood. He was afraid. Alone in this world.

He had undoubtedly relied on his own skills to survive.

My Little Mouse would never trust easily.

Even now, as he presented himself, it was simply a ploy.

A bait that I would refuse to take, however much my desires betrayed me.

Little Mouse had been taken advantage of enough.

My hands now rested over his upon the knot of the gray wool towel. I stared thoughtfully at my tanned fingers covering his pale slender ones.

“You’re Munni.”

“What of it?” My Little Mouse tensed. Then he laughed, coldly. “Ah. That is why you haven’t bent me over. Can’t stand my kind?”

“No.” I shook my head and raised my gaze to meet his. “Quite the opposite, in fact… but thank you for sharing that with me.”

Erlin stiffened and bit his lip. His green eyes widened as he realized his slip.

“Munni heritage. It means that you faced quite some difficulties growing up, I imagine,” I mused aloud. “You got by with your silver tongue and your particular… skill set.”

I patted his hand and stepped back.

“Mellin will take you to your new quarters when you have dried off and warmed up.”

Erlin’s fingers clenched tightly over the edge of his towel.

“New quarters.”

“Another cell, but better appointed. Barred windows—and locked. Guards at the door and below.” I turned away to place my book on the shelf, very aware of how that glorious green gaze followed me about the room. “You’ll need all of the rest you can get, Little Mouse.”

“Erlin.”

“Erlin,” I repeated with no small amount of amusement. “I recommend you get to sleep right away. We’ve a ride ahead of us tomorrow.”

“Where are we going?”

I turned to look at my captive who had turned to gaze at me in shock and confusion.

Beneath the edge of his towel, his long red tail was now beginning to fluff in patches.

It twitched back and forth uncertainly. For one who had lived in the shadows, Little Mouse suffered from lapses of control.

It was rather… adorable. I wanted to cross the room, draw him into an embrace, and reassure him.

Instead, I just offered him a lopsided smile.

“Taking you somewhere safe, Erlin. Taking you where no one will find you. Then we’ll have another talk… Just you and me.”

Although my captive was now safely installed in his room for the night, I felt his presence long after.

For a long while, my imagination betrayed me, painting a gorgeous picture of Little Mouse in my mind’s eye—the tantalizing fall of toweling, the slender body hidden within, the glimpse of soft, white skin, the damp tendrils of red hair.

I struggled and failed to keep my thoughts from wandering.

I want to help him , I mused. I really do, but damn, Little Mouse isn’t making it easy for me.

I am supposed to be protecting him from whatever has silenced him through fear…

and now it appears that I need to protect him from my own…

desires. The problem is that it has been too long.

I shook my head, recalling my grandmother’s words.

It’s been an age since Averil, since Willem before him.

At the memory of Willem, my heart clenched. He had been the closest to me. A fierce half-Munni, half-Sunna warrior who had followed his liege—my father—to battle. Only to die on the Plains of Marrasol with the rest. I failed him, and then I had disappointed Averil.

Am I about to ruin another Munni’s life?

And why am I even worried about this? I told myself with a sharp shake of his head.

Erlin, or whatever his true name is, has connections to the people behind the assassination attempts on Landis’s life.

I shouldn’t care about what happens to the thief.

And Erlin poses a real risk to my family as well.

No doubt his masters will come around sniffing before long.

I need to get him off my estate proper and to the relative safety of the wilderness.

The decision was obvious to me. I would take Little Mouse to one of my hunting cabins where we may tackle the question of Erlin’s true identity and who his masters were. Removed from civilization and the possibility of escape, my captive might be induced to reveal even more.

As I approached his rooms that morning, my certainty strengthened at the less-than-welcome sight of my family gathered in Erlin’s supposedly well-locked room.

Bella, Rhenn, and Little Harry, accompanied by my sister Kaleigh.

She glanced up at me with a wide smile. Her dark brown eyes sparkled as she leaped to her feet to embrace me heartily.

“There you are, Gareth!”

“What are you all doing in here?” I asked, folding my arms and glaring at the group.

The children were clustered about Erlin, who was squatting with them on the floor.

A small rubber ball bounced among the metal jacks that had been tossed on the floor.

The thief’s slender fingers were adroitly picking up the jacks.

Despite the fact that the game handicapped its players to use only one hand, Erlin was clearly well-versed in handling a game of jacks.

Sensing my gaze, he shifted a little at the sight of me, and the length of chain that connected his ankle to the bed clinked quietly.

“The assassin of joy has arrived,” he said, flushing a little.

Was he embarrassed to be caught clearly enjoying himself with a game of jacks? I raised a brow.

“You should know,” I quipped. “A game of jacks. How fun,” I added dryly, “but alas, the fun is now over.”

“Ass’in of joy!” echoed Little Harry, hopping to his feet and glaring up at me. His short tufty tail was fluffed out in annoyance.

“That’s me.” I stared at Kaleigh. “What were you thinking? I’ve got him here for a reason, you know.”

Kaleigh sighed, leaned back, stared at me, and then wrinkled her nose. “But he’s so nice!”

I gave her a look. Kaleigh clapped her hands, gathered up the children’s toys, and ushered my nieces and nephews out. Erlin remained silent, but I couldn’t help but notice a sad gleam in his eye when Bella hugged him before racing out of the room. He avoided my gaze as the silence between us grew.

“I am, apparently, not only an assassin of joy,” I noted mildly, “but I am also not the lord of my own home.”

“You said it,” the redhead muttered under his breath.

When I took Erlin’s wrist to cuff his hands together, my fingers grazed the underside, tracing a path across his soft skin and the flutter of a suddenly racing heartbeat.

Erlin still refused to meet my look, dipping his chin down even as his glorious red mane butted lightly against my chest. Now cuffed, I released his ankle from the bed’s chain.

“We’re going for a trip,” I said. “Just the two of us.”