Dangerous Exile by K.J. Jackson
{ Chapter 5 }
Ness stared at the last page of the book—A System of Sheep-Grazing and Management—fingering the paper between her thumb and forefinger as her eyes read each word slowly, not wanting the book to end.
She’d read through the dreadful thing four times in the last three days. But it was late, the book and the light from the fire the only lifeline keeping her away from crawling into bed where the nightmares would start.
Sheep were infinitely more peaceful than the demons that visited her once her eyes closed. So given the choice, she would spend her time with the sheep.
Three days of sitting, locked, in this splendid room. Staring at the ceiling and the cherubs so long it seemed like they’d started to float about on their own. Staring out the window that looked directly out onto the brick building next to it. So close, if she stuck her arm out the window, she could touch the red pitted bricks. Truly, the window served the purpose of an excuse to hang long, light blue drapes in the room, much more so than to let air in and out.
Thus, the sheep book had been her only entertainment.
The only person in and out of the room had been Verity, the silent maid that came and went from the room, never saying anything and only nodding or shaking her head to Ness’s questions. She’d helped Ness with her clothes and her hair, as Ness could manage very little with her left fingers barely jutting out from the top edge of the bandages.
Verity must have recognized Ness’s restlessness and had brought the book in with dinner days ago. Though Ness couldn’t complain. She would take anything at this point to keep her mind occupied and not drifting back to the horror of a week and a half ago.
Drifting back to what she had been willing to do to end it.
The key in the lock of the door behind her clicked and the door opened. It was late for Verity to be entering the room.
Talen stepped into the room, not asking permission, not hesitating at the door to see if she was properly dressed. She was accustomed to that. Her space, her body were not her own.
He strode across the room and stopped in front of her chair by the fireplace, his eyes raking her over from head to toe.
She hadn’t seen him in days, so his sudden interest, this late in the eve, was disconcerting. She’d rather thought he’d completely forgotten about her. Which wasn’t a bad thing, except for the fact that she’d been locked in the room.
Whatever he discovered in his assessment of her person, she couldn’t read in his face.
He leaned forward and picked up the book from her lap. “A System of Sheep-Grazing and Management.” The edges of his lips quirked upward. “Engrossing reading?”
“Verity brought it in. It is the only thing available to read.” She eyed the volume in Talen’s hand. “I don’t know why she thought I would be interested in sheep management.”
“She cannot read.” He flipped the book over in his hand, the rough rasp prevalent in his low voice strong tonight. “It has a pretty cover. Embossed trees and sheep and hills and some birds. I’m sure it seemed a fine choice to her.”
Of course. Verity had been kind in bringing her the book and she’d been sour on it. Shameful. Her look lifted to his face. “Verity, can she speak? She hasn’t said a word to me, she just motions.”
“She’s mute.”
“It is kind of you to employ her.”
He shrugged. “It also ensures she will not tell tales of what happens here in the rooms of the Alabaster House.”
What seemed like kindness now reeked of a calculated choice. Every time she thought she saw the slightest glimmer of compassion in Talen, he quickly dissuaded her from the notion.
“That is what this place is called? The Alabaster House?” She’d never been sure if that was a nickname because of the building or the real name of the establishment.
“Aye.” He set the book onto the gilded side table by the chair.
She nodded, more to herself than to him. “What are you doing in here?”
“I came to check on the progress of your healing.”
“You didn’t expect me to be sleeping?”
“I can look you over asleep or awake.”
“You’ve been in here while I was asleep?”
“Aye.”
A shiver skittered down her spine. Heaven to hell, why had Juliet sent her to this man? Had she just traded one overbearing ogre for another? “So, what is your assessment?”
“The bruises are fading and the swelling has mostly subsided about your face. You heal fast.” He took a step to the side, turning away from her to assess the room. “Why is it that you aren’t already asleep?”
“My mind is restless and I cannot sleep.”
He looked over his shoulder at her. “Do the sounds from below keep you awake?”
“No. Fear. The past. Those things keep me awake.” Her gaze landed on his light blue eyes and her breath caught in her throat. It was hard to look at him and not obsess upon the fact that he was Conner.
She was sure of it. Sure of it still. More sure than she’d been days ago when her mind had still been hazy and she could only see out of one eye.
Not that she dared to bring up the topic again. She wasn’t yet ready to get kicked out of this place and be on her own. She had to make plans first. Plans as to what she would do next.
Talen turned fully toward her. “You don’t think you’re safe here?”
It took her a long second to realize the offense on his face. She shook her head. “No, you mistake me. It is not a fear of this place. I do feel safe here. And the food has been most tasty and this room is grand, so I have nothing to complain upon.”
His lips quirked to the side. “But you have a complaint?”
She stood, her hand flattening across her stomach. “I haven’t been out of this room in days. I am starting to imagine I’m going mad, trapped in a room like this with nothing but my thoughts and the cherubs above and the System of Sheep-Grazing and Management.”
The slightest chuckle passed his lips. “It can be stimulating reading. Do you agree with the Romney Marsh system or the traditional method?”
“The Romney Marsh system by far. It seems to spare the trauma of the ewes, especially if there is a lost lamb but a suitable replacement when twins are born by another ewe. With some centered attention on lambing, one gets happy ewes. Happy ewes make happy lambs.”
A smile actually took root across his face and he took a step closer to her. His right hand lifted, his fingertips going onto the bandages that wrapped her left arm in place along the splint. “Are you going to tell me who broke you like this?”
Her mouth pulled into a tight line. Of course. This again. He wasn’t just there to check on her healing, he was there to demand answers from her. She shook her head.
For a long moment he stared at her, his gaze searing into her. The smile vanished from his face with a sigh. “What am I to do with you?”
“You don’t need to do anything with me, Mr. Blackstone.”
“Except I do. And it’s Talen.” His hand lifted farther and the knuckle of his finger stroked the side of her cheek. “Your cheeks have healed—I can see your face, your eyes, now.”
She bit her tongue, holding in the scream that was threatening to escape. He could see her face, her eyes, so why didn’t he recognize her? Why didn’t he remember her?
“You understand that until I know what I’m protecting you from, I cannot let you leave this room?”
Her lips pulled inward, her teeth clamping tight on the inner skin as she nodded.
His hand dropped away from her face. “So, if you won’t tell me who did this to you, why don’t you tell me what is it that you want most in life?”
An odd change of topic. But a question she could at least answer.
Her lips parted. “I want to be strong.”
His head snapped back, his brow furrowed. “Strong?”
“I want to be strong.” She nodded, taking a tiny step toward him. “To know that if I fight back, I can survive on my terms. Not because I was weak. Not because I curled up in a ball and took a beating like a coward. I want to be strong.”
Silence stretched into the room. Talen’s blue eyes had locked onto her, his face an impenetrable mask. Silence that stretched for so long, she regretted the words. Regretted ever uttering them out loud.
The smallest smile suddenly curved onto the corners of his lips. “I can make you strong.”
That, she hadn’t expected from him. But she was one to recognize an opportunity when she saw it.
Determination set into her features. “I want to start tonight. Now.”
He shook his head. “I can’t teach you anything with your arm broken. It will have to wait.”
She jumped another step forward, almost bumping into him. “But what better time than now? That’s exactly why I want to start tonight. If I can fend off an attack with one arm broken, imagine what I could do with two working arms.”
He laughed, a deep chortle that held remnants of the cadence of the laugh from the boy she once knew. His right brow arched. “You are positive you are up to it?”
She pointed to her face. “I can see out of both eyes. I can breathe. Move. The bruises may still ache, but the sharp pain is gone. If you can teach me, I can learn. I swear I can.”
He stared at her for an excruciating moment—judging her words, her worth.
Decision made, he sighed. “Come with me.”