Tea, Lycanthropy and Other Virtues

Chapter Twelve

Constance peeked into the hall to be sure no one would see her in her nightshift. Longer than the other petticoats, trimmed in lace, and nearly see through in a way that made her feel shy. The hall was empty. The few guests that were left had all retired early. She made her way down the hall, the candle she held flickering. She slowed her pace. Her other hand was busy holding an embroidered shawl in place and couldn't shield the flame.

She took the hall to her left. It seemed a strange place for Mary's room. The floor was cold on her bare feet and there was a draft. She wondered if she should have worn her nightcap.

Contentment washed over her as she neared Mary's door. It was such a gift to have someone other than Gran to talk about Lord Connor with.

You can't only talk about Hugh Connor, you must ask her about Baines. Poor Mary.

She knocked softly.

The door groaned open as if it weighed substantially more than the one to Constance's room.

"Mary, it's me," she whispered.

Mary moved out of the way, and Constance stepped into the room, blowing out her candle. Mary closed and latched the door behind her.

"Wait until you hear what happened this afternoo—" her words trailed off.

Mary was still dressed in her dining gown, her face tight with an emotion Constance couldn't place.

"Are you alright?" Constance asked.

"I'm so sorry Constance." Mary's voice wobbled.

Constance looked around in confusion. Sparsely decorated the bedchamber had cold stone walls and barred windows. A fire guttered in the grate, throwing strange shadows over a huge fourposter bed standing sentinel in the center of the circular room.

Lord Baines was leaning against the mantle, watching her. She gripped her shawl tighter.

"I'm sorry," Constance said, taking a step back. "I didn't realize you had company." She hoped Mary didn't notice her face, red with the impropriety of finding a man in her cousin's room. "I'll just go."

Mary was standing stiffly at the door, her gaze locked on the floor, her hands shaking. Constance paused. Why would Mary invite a man into her room if she knew Constance would be on her way? She felt a flash of anger. No way in Hell she was going to abandon her cousin to Baines, or any entitled dandy.

"Actually," she said, as if reconsidering. "I really need to talk to Lady Huntsman. Please excuse us, Lord Baines." She took Mary's arm. "Come on, Mary, let's go back to my room."

She waited for Mary to move away from the latch, but her cousin just stood there.

"Remember, you were going to help me with that," she cast around for the right word, her heart beating hard, "thing." She glanced over her shoulder. Baines was still at the fireplace, a strange smile on his face.

"Mary," Constance said urgently, "whatever's happened, it doesn't change how I see you. Come with me."

Mary looked at her tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry."

Constance's mouth was dry. "Please, let's go."

Hands grabbed Constance from behind. Adrenaline spiked through her veins and she pulled away so hard she stumbled into Mary's side, hitting her forehead on the door. She fumbled with the latch as Baines grabbed at her again, ripping her shawl from her shoulders.

"Don't you touch me!" Constance screamed, as he caught hold of her arms.

"Come now, Miss Allen, there's no need to fight," he said, pulling them behind her.