long mahogany table stretched along the length of the room, covered with every kind of finery. Once again, the opulence left me speechless. The table could easily seat twenty five, maybe thirty. I knew Ivan was intent on displaying for us all the wonders of Belrose, but I would have preferred something more intimate for dinner.
Miss Easton gestured toward the head of the table where three places were set. “Dinner will be served when Master Helsburg arrives.” And with that, she swept from the room, her mass of keys jangling with every footstep.
Anne and I seated ourselves across from each other in the straight-backed chairs, leaving the head for Ivan. She slouched, squirming in the rigid, unyielding chair. Hanging above a gleaming cabinet filled with polished glasses, there was an oil painting of a beautiful woman with a mass of thick black curls spilling over her shoulders, her skin as creamy as a porcelain cameo. But the most striking part was her eyes—a pale ice blue.
“Good thing we don’t have to sit at opposite ends of the table.” Anne said. “We’d have to shout to hear each other. It seems a little silly to have dinner in here when it’s just the three of us, don’t you think?”
I lifted a shoulder. “Ivan is only trying to give us a grand welcome. Make sure to thank him for the book.”
“I will.”
Pulling my shawl closer, I said, “It’s strange that Ivan is late. Usually he’s very prompt.”
For another ten minutes, we sat and watched the minute hand crawl on a platter-sized clock on the wall. Just as Anne was showing me how to fold my napkin into a swan, Ivan marched into the room, straightening his jacket and hair.
“Please excuse me ladies. Earlier I heard a disturbance somewhere within the abbey and it had to be taken care of.”
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“Yes. I believe it was one of my staff, sneaking about where they shouldn’t be. Once I’ve found the responsible party, they will be dealt with. While I’m speaking of it, I would ask you both to be careful in the…less frequented parts of the abbey. Sometimes the floorboards can be unstable. I don’t want either of you to come to any harm.” Ivan tilted his head, mouth grim. “In fact, I would prefer if you stayed to the main hallway and the rooms adjoining. No need to go looking for trouble.” He gestured toward a small cart by the wall piled with little white towels. “Would the both of you care for a moist towelette for your hands before dinner?”
I rose. “I’d love one.” I glanced at Anne as she stood and clutched the chair for support. “No need to get up, dear. I’ll get you one.”
Ivan noticed her frailty immediately, his eyes sharpening. “Anne, have you injured yourself?” The words themselves were solicitous and kind. But his tone was laced with something…suspicion. And maybe a spark of anger. So unlike him.
Anne froze by her chair, her face ghost white.
Chapter Eight
Anne
I t was the first time Ivan had ever really looked at me. Or at least it felt like the first time.
And it made my words stick in my throat.
I swallowed hard. “Um, I just twisted my ankle a bit. Fell in a rabbit hole.” My pathetic lie faded to a whisper on my lips. Would he see through me and guess the truth? At least if he did, maybe then he wouldn’t blame one of his staff for the flooring I’d destroyed—if that was even the disturbance he was talking about. Although I’d hate to start out on the wrong foot with Ivan before he even married Mom.
As an
Miss Easton gestured toward the head of the table where three places were set. “Dinner will be served when Master Helsburg arrives.” And with that, she swept from the room, her mass of keys jangling with every footstep.
Anne and I seated ourselves across from each other in the straight-backed chairs, leaving the head for Ivan. She slouched, squirming in the rigid, unyielding chair. Hanging above a gleaming cabinet filled with polished glasses, there was an oil painting of a beautiful woman with a mass of thick black curls spilling over her shoulders, her skin as creamy as a porcelain cameo. But the most striking part was her eyes—a pale ice blue.
“Good thing we don’t have to sit at opposite ends of the table.” Anne said. “We’d have to shout to hear each other. It seems a little silly to have dinner in here when it’s just the three of us, don’t you think?”
I lifted a shoulder. “Ivan is only trying to give us a grand welcome. Make sure to thank him for the book.”
“I will.”
Pulling my shawl closer, I said, “It’s strange that Ivan is late. Usually he’s very prompt.”
For another ten minutes, we sat and watched the minute hand crawl on a platter-sized clock on the wall. Just as Anne was showing me how to fold my napkin into a swan, Ivan marched into the room, straightening his jacket and hair.
“Please excuse me ladies. Earlier I heard a disturbance somewhere within the abbey and it had to be taken care of.”
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“Yes. I believe it was one of my staff, sneaking about where they shouldn’t be. Once I’ve found the responsible party, they will be dealt with. While I’m speaking of it, I would ask you both to be careful in the…less frequented parts of the abbey. Sometimes the floorboards can be unstable. I don’t want either of you to come to any harm.” Ivan tilted his head, mouth grim. “In fact, I would prefer if you stayed to the main hallway and the rooms adjoining. No need to go looking for trouble.” He gestured toward a small cart by the wall piled with little white towels. “Would the both of you care for a moist towelette for your hands before dinner?”
I rose. “I’d love one.” I glanced at Anne as she stood and clutched the chair for support. “No need to get up, dear. I’ll get you one.”
Ivan noticed her frailty immediately, his eyes sharpening. “Anne, have you injured yourself?” The words themselves were solicitous and kind. But his tone was laced with something…suspicion. And maybe a spark of anger. So unlike him.
Anne froze by her chair, her face ghost white.
Chapter Eight
Anne
I t was the first time Ivan had ever really looked at me. Or at least it felt like the first time.
And it made my words stick in my throat.
I swallowed hard. “Um, I just twisted my ankle a bit. Fell in a rabbit hole.” My pathetic lie faded to a whisper on my lips. Would he see through me and guess the truth? At least if he did, maybe then he wouldn’t blame one of his staff for the flooring I’d destroyed—if that was even the disturbance he was talking about. Although I’d hate to start out on the wrong foot with Ivan before he even married Mom.
As an
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