Chapter 12

A rhythmic beat in the earth roused me from my short nap. I sat up, warily looking around, only to see a blur of obsidian on the horizon. I stood up to get a better view. A horse, it seemed. And a rider.

Who the rider was should have had me trembling, maybe even running, but it didn't. I stood riveted as Lord Ashton bore down on my position. I suppose it was because it wasn't someone worse, like the steward Liam, or even my old master. I was actually grateful to see the viscount, hopeful to finally see him alone.

I was so focused on the man's midnight hair fluttering as he rode that I didn't hear another horse even closer.

"Clay-brained little scut," a voice hissed, and I startled to see Charlie emerging from the trees. "Couldn't run like you were told. Puking ingrate."

He slid off his horse and grabbed the back of my shirt roughly, as Lord Ashton thundered to a halt.

Charlie shook me, nearly causing me to stumble. "I caught him, sir," he said proudly.

I looked at the man askance. Caught me? I hadn't been going anywhere.

"What the hell is he doing out again?" the viscount sighed heavily as he tapped his riding crop against his thigh. The man looked exhausted. "And exactly where are you running to, boy?"

I bit back the urge to snap back at him. Did I look like I was running anywhere? However, the man tapped angrily with his crop, obviously irritated already.

"No, sir, I—"

"Liam's looking for him, Lord Ashton," Charlie cut me off, and I clenched my fists. I dropped my chin slightly yet kept a careful eye on the black crop tapping lazily against the viscount's muscled leg as he listened to Charlie. Lord Ashton's brow furrowed. I refrained from letting out an annoyed huff, instead pulling my small stature as tall and steady as I could.

"Really?" His head tilted, his eyes narrowing at me, studying me appraisingly.

"Yes, my lord," Charlie nodded. "Liam sent me to get him—"

I flinched at the reminder of what the steward had in mind for my flesh. What surprised me though was seeing Lord Ashton's grip tighten on the reins as he frowned down at me.

"—but I found his room empty..."

"Again," Lord Ashton added darkly. He nudged his horse closer, stopping next to me, the crop mere inches from my face. I held my ground, ready to receive whatever blow he planned to deliver. My eyes closed briefly when his hand darted down, my body tensing, as he gripped my damp hair to force me to look at him.

"Where were—" he started sharply, but abruptly he yanked his hand back as if I had burned him. My pale eyes shot up to him to see surprise etched on his face. He was staring at his hand as if he couldn't understand what was going on. I found my own head tilting at him in confusion. Then the viscount lowered his hand again, slowly, threading his fingers through my honey hair. I had the urge to lean into the soft tentative touch, just to enjoy a gentle touch for a moment longer; instead, I pulled away, angry at my own desires. I knew better. I had better control than that.

His dark cinnamon eyes stared down at me, then darted around the lake, settling on the cloak and discarded apples briefly. I gasped in shock when I felt his hand thread through my damp hair again, his warm fingers rubbing against my scalp.

"I'm sorry, sir. He was probably running to escape Steward Liam's punishment."

"Running, huh?" the viscount muttered under his breath.

"Yes, sir," Charlie responded quickly.

"Punishment for what? I didn't issue any such orders." Lord Ashton was staring at me oddly now. I wasn't sure why, but he didn't seem quite as angry as before, more curious than anything.

"For the horses, sir. Didn't Liam tell you? We found evidence of his treachery this morning. Some bits of hemlock around his room. Must have tracked it back after he poisoned the hay hutch."

I pressed my lips into a thin line, refraining from screaming out my innocence. It wouldn't make any difference to these men, I figured. They had already decided my guilt.

Oddly, however, the dark brows of the viscount furrowed, his head tilted in almost a display of bemusement, of puzzlement, rather than fury. He spent several long moments staring down into my eyes, as if searching... for... something... I held my stance, refusing to look away, thinking he might read it as admitting my guilt.

I barely saw the twitch of his lip as he broke the stare first and turned to Charlie. His hand fisted against the reins as his back straightened abruptly, his jaw tight.

Charlie's hand tightening painfully on my arm had me turning to see him concerned at his lord's actions.

"I'll get him to the steward immediately," Charlie continued, tugging at my arm.

"No." The viscount halted our departure. Lord Ashton stared at me meaningfully, and I had to cast my eyes away this time. "Get him back to the house. I want him brought to my study immediately."

"But, sir, Liam wanted—"

Ashton's eyes darkened dangerously at his man, and I was glad I wasn't on the receiving end of that gaze this time. "I believe I made my wishes clear. Are you suggesting my steward's desires supersede mine?"

Charlie paled, and I wanted to smile at his discomfiture. "Uh, no, sir. Of course not."

"Then please do as I ask." The viscount's grip on his reins shifted as he nudged his horse onward without looking back to see that his orders were followed.

"Yes, sir," Charlie mumbled, pulling me back towards his horse as he scooped up the discarded cloak. I stumbled as he dragged me along, my weary limbs not wanting to keep up with the tug-of-war Charlie was playing with my body. We both watched the receding back of Lord Ashton before Charlie basically threw me onto the back of the stallion.

After he settled in behind me, he leaned close to my ear. "You better not open your mouth, you ungrateful scut. You had your chance to escape. You better know where your godsdamn loyalties lie."

I sagged against him as my body jarred with the gait of the horse. I was too damn tired to feel much of anything at this moment, especially with midnight visitors dropping hemlock around my room and being forced to 'run away.' I found myself wishing for that tiny cot, a place to just let myself go.

***

Lord Ashton was already in his study with a furious Liam when Charlie dragged me to the door. I was again surprised by the light and airy feel of the room so different from Master's. The ensuing argument, however, left me with little time to enjoy its aesthetics.

"...the damage has been contained, Liam," the viscount stated calmly. "We've enough horses to send supplies out to the neediest tenants tomorrow. I've already sent Reth and Marcus to see if they can procure more horses. They should be back later this afternoon. And it seems it was only the one hay bin that was tainted."

Liam's eyes narrowed on me as I was shoved into the room. "What about the horse that was desecrated with the letter 'B' carved into her flank? It's obvious Barrett's little whore was flaunting his master's plan in our faces."

I flinched. Carving into the flesh of an animal? No. No. I was already shaking my head unconsciously.

Lord Ashton turned his appraising stare on me. It was not hostile like Liam's. There was an odd curious look in his eyes as if he were gauging my guilt and finding it... lacking?

"We did find bits of hemlock in his room, sir," Charlie added helpfully, and I could practically feel the shovel scooping out another layer of dirt from my grave. Hell, it should be pretty deep by now after Count Rowland's poisoning.

"I can whip the truth out of him, Ash," Liam stated. By the Gods, why was he so damn eager to flog me? I tried to cut my eyes over to the steward, to get some sense of the man. Could he be 'Lee'? Had Master Barrett somehow told the man I was to be punished? Maybe Liam's urgent need to whip me was two-fold: to serve Master Barrett's wish to kill me (for I had no doubt he would should he have the chance again) and to keep me from imparting any information I might have?

"He had help," the steward continued. "He had to. Someone had to unlock his door for him to get out to poison the horses last night."

Lord Ashton kept his gaze locked on me as he listened to his steward's tirade. I matched him, watching through a lowered gaze as he smirked at my stiffening stance before he leaned back against his desk. He crossed his arms over his broad chest.

"It does seem like he has a... habit of wandering free," Lord Ashton said with a tinge of amusement.

"Uhh..." Charlie paled next to me. "He obviously was running, sir," Charlie pressed. "Trying to escape his punishment."

I understood Charlie's concern. He was afraid I would betray him to the viscount, tell the lord that he'd been the one to free me this time. Probably why he warned me about keeping my loyalties in mind.

I'd thought maybe he'd freed me because he really was worried for my welfare under Liam's whip. But now the man was ready to hand me over to the lash. I guess I couldn't blame him, he was scared. It was a feeling I was well acquainted with.

"So you knew you were caught, huh? Where were you running to, boy?" Liam demanded.

I knew it didn't matter what I said; this man would never believe me. What surprised me, however, was Lord Ashton stepping up to me, so close I would have to tilt my head back to look at him. I didn't bother, keeping my eyes pinned to his chest instead, solidifying my stance for the high probability of eminent impact with a fist.

"Running." His deep voice rumbled in his chest as he repeated the word with hint of question. My head jerked up when I felt his hand wrap softly around the back of my head, playing with the damp golden tresses with his fingers as he had in the orchard. "I see he was running so fast he fell out of his clothes and into the lake. Then I suppose he ran out of the water to fall back into his clothes. And was so exhausted from all that running he had to lay down for a nap—which is how I found him."

I gaped at the man.

"And had a snack of some apples," he finished with a hint of amusement as he turned his gaze from me to take in the stunned looks of his two men.

"He..." Liam appeared to be at a loss for words. "He...what?"

The warm caressing hand disappeared abruptly, leaving me reeling momentarily at its loss. I watched him pace, circling out of my range of vision, as though he were stalking prey. "I think maybe you've misjudged Barrett's amorato, Liam."

"Misjudged him? He fucking admitted to helping poison Rowland!" Liam roared. "He should be strung up next to his bastard of a marquis!"

"I agree, sir," Charlie chimed in.

Fucking bastard. My hands clenched into fists behind my back. What about the loyalty he talked about? I hadn't ratted him out; why was he dragging me to the noose?

"Well, I don't." Lord Ashton came back around into my view. "Charlie, you can go now. You've made your opinions clear. I'd like to talk alone with my steward and the boy."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the husky man stiffen, obviously affronted at being dismissed, before he turned and stalked from the room. Good. One down, one more to go. Maybe Liam would finally get tired of arguing with his lord and storm out. Richard had done that to Barrett a few times, maybe Ashton's steward did too.

"What the hell, Ash? We found the fucking hemlock in his damn room," Liam argued once Charlie had left. "You know what hemlock did to Rowland. How could you forgive—"

I was surprised by the slight catch in Liam's voice, and my eyes darted instinctively to his face. The flash in his eyes wasn't just anger. It reminded me of when I lost Tareth. Before I had a chance to dwell on what it meant, the clenched jaw and searing fury were back.

"I'm not forgiving anything, but I'm not sure there is anything to forgive in regards to this boy besides his silence. You do recall Sam telling us that Kye here is the only reason he even knew Row was poisoned, correct?" I was sure my mouth was hanging open in shock, just the same as Liam's, at the viscount's defense of me. "As for the hemlock," Lord Ashton muttered, "which was found on the floor. Of the boy's unlocked room. Where he was just laying there sleeping when you stormed in on him this morning."

I tilted my head up at his tone. It sounded almost...thoughtful, maybe even... amused?

"But—" Liam started to offer a retort even as it appeared as if his mind was slowly—finally—catching up to the facts.

"Why, Liam," Lord Ashton mused, "would he even have come back to the room after killing the horses? Just laying there with the evidence on the floor next to him? Doesn't that seem a little odd to you?"

Liam hedged, obviously not wanting to give up his anger at me. I could tell he wanted someone to bear the brunt of his ire because of what had happened to Rowland. I was the easy target, especially while my master was in hiding. "Well..."

"And then," the viscount continued, "he supposedly 'runs off in fear of punishment' only to swim in the lake and have a snack of apples?"

The steward cleared his throat, reluctantly conceding. "Yes, I can see your point."

Lord Ashton stepped up to me again. "So," he paused, "Kye, isn't it?"

My head snapped up at my name, shocked he was actually using it. "Yes, sir."

"Let's start with something simple, shall we? Did you poison my horses with hemlock?"

"No, sir."

I heard Liam huff, and I wished he would leave so I could tell Lord Ashton about 'Lee'. Because, right now, I was pretty sure 'Lee' had set me up to take the blame for what he'd done to thwart the Sterlings' plans to deliver their supplies—they just hadn't expected me to still be there in the morning.

"Who unlocked your door last night?"

"I don't know, sir."

"Don't know much, do you, boy?" Liam interjected with a low growl. He was obviously still not quite willing to admit he might have been wrong about me.

Lord Ashton cut a warning glare at his steward, and I wanted to smile. "Can you tell me what you do know?"

Not now, I wanted to blurt out. "No, sir. I can't."

Lord Ashton frowned. "Why? Because of your loyalty to Barrett as his amorato?"

I bit my lip. "No, sir."

"Then why?" he demanded.

"I—it's not time, sir," I finally whispered.

"Not time?" That answer had him stunned.

"Fucking hell," Liam cursed. "They've planned something. He's just waiting to spring a trap on us."

Fortunately, the viscount was ignoring his steward in favor of studying me. I kept steady, controlled, under his scrutiny.

"Time, huh? Well, then, I suppose you can just stand there until it is time," Lord Ashton stated.

Stand? My gaze flickered upwards. He was just going to have me stand here? Oh hell. Normally, I could stand for hours, but I was already exhausted, plagued with a hunger a few apples couldn't assuage; I only hoped I'd be able to stay on my feet.

"What the hell?" Liam echoed my thoughts. "You're just going to have him stand there? What, you think that will break him better than a whip?"

Ashton nodded slowly. "Actually, I do." He had started his pacing around me again. "I've been noticing how carefully he holds himself. Standing braced, in control, disciplined, almost defiant. He tries to project strength, not show any weakness. Yet there's something..."

My fingers tightened on my wrist behind my back as this man read me so well.

"...there's something we're missing. Isn't there, Kye?"

My jaw tightened.

"Most men would have broken down and begged for my mercy before now, knowing they could be executed for participating in trying to murder my brother. But he hasn't. He didn't deny his guilt in Row's poisoning, but then he didn't claim any acknowledgement of his part in helping Row, either."

"Because he's that bastard's amorato. He's protecting his lover."

I couldn't help the shiver that raced down my spine. My eyes closed, blocking out thoughts of how my master showed his affection.

A heavy hand on my head startled me. It slid down to the nape of my neck, gently massaging. I almost broke right then at the display of tenderness.

"I'm not sure I believe that anymore," Lord Ashton stated as he gently urged my head up to look at him. "But you're not going to tell me anything, are you?"

I shuddered at the wistful look in his cinnamon eyes. Gods, help me. Be strong. Be good.

"No, sir."

"Because it's not time," he repeated my earlier statement with a hint of amusement before turning to his desk. "Very well. We'll wait."

From the corner of my eye, I saw Liam's chest puff out as if he were about to argue with the viscount. Apparently, he thought better of it though when Lord Ashton blatantly ignored the both of us to sit back at his desk. I was disappointed the steward didn't leave as I had expected. He settled himself at the long table on the far side of the room where a map was laid out. Inwardly, I breathed a sigh of relief that at least I was being left alone for now. Even if I couldn't move, I could relax a little.

I shifted minutely, settling myself into my disciplined stance. I had to find something to focus on, something to keep me standing—at least until I could be alone with the viscount. My eyes drifted surreptitiously around the room. There were a lot of books crammed into the shelves, many of which looked well worn, and I wondered how many of them Lord Ashton had read. I'd never read much myself, but I'd always wanted to. Were they books with stories in them? What kinds of tales might they hold? Or were they other kinds of books?

I wondered if Tareth ever learned when he left for his service contract.

"Have Marcus and Donnelly take the first load to these tenants tomorrow." I nearly jumped when I heard the viscount's commanding voice roll through the room. I hadn't realized he had moved. Hell, I must have let my mind drift again.

I cut my eyes over at the two men, both now standing by the map table—but only one of them was looking at me, glaring. I had to keep focus. I had to be in control.

"We can also have Charlie and Reth take the second cart over to the eastern tenants," Liam stated, reluctantly bringing his gaze back down to the map.

"And the next cargo is due in port next week. This time, we are sending out a clipper ship provided by the Regent to meet The Acheron before it reaches the gulf."

"Do you think that's necessary?" Liam asked.

I shifted, my knees wanting to lock in place, yet I knew from experience that would make it worse. Still, my thighs quivered with the urge to move. I'd thought focusing on the viscount's voice would help distract me, but it wasn't.

"It's necessary to protect this shipment. We lost three before the last one. We've already lost too much seed corn and wheat. If those critical crops don't get planted, we'll all be stuck trying to survive on vegetable marrows, and the livestock will starve over the winter. Come the fall harvest, everyone will be hurting," Lord Ashton intoned.

"Very true," Liam agreed.

"Plus it has the armaments for the Regent. We can't afford for the gunpowder and rifles to be lost, especially to anyone who might oppose him."

"You mean someone like Barrett. I wish we knew who he was supplying."

"Yes, well, lacking that knowledge, the best we can do is cut off Barrett's access. He knows we support the Regent, providing stock and armaments, which is why he's preying on our ships and sending the stores off to some treasonous milsaps."

Shipments, wagons of supplies, new horses... My mind kept wanting to drift. The workings of a manor had never held my interest much, since I'd never been able to experience anything more than the room I'd been imprisoned in for the last few years. Papa had not been interested in grooming me to take over the farm after Tareth had left.

So, something, there had to be something I could do to keep focus... My eyes drifted back to the books. I couldn't read the titles from where I was, but the letters gave me an idea.

A. A... My eyes darted around, landing on the tall man hunched over the table. Ashton.

B... beautiful... C... My eyes drifted further down the viscount's solid form, the edge of the table cutting off my view just below his belt. C... C... Fuck. I felt my face heat up as I looked away. Well, hell, that wasn't working.

Something... something must be here I can use to focus...

I stiffened when I found the perfect object. Lord Aston's riding crop. He'd left it on the edge of his desk, just lying there, waiting to be scooped up and used.

Yes. A reminder of what I was. Of what I should expect if I broke.

I flexed the fingers of my left hand into a fist, the bite of my nails into my palm helped me to ignore the tremble in my thighs, the ache in my belly.

"Hey! Boy!" I startled at the sharp tone of the steward. "Arms up, behind your head," he ordered. Lord Ashton raised a questioning brow at Liam. "I don't trust him. And I can't see his hands behind his back."

With only the briefest hesitation to see if the viscount would countermand his second, I lifted my arms and locked my hands at the back of my head. It was a very familiar position, but it left me feeling more anxious as this was Master's favorite stance when he disciplined me.

"Should we be talking about this in front of him?" Liam growled. "What if he tells—"

"He's not going anywhere," Lord Ashton cut him off. "I plan to keep a personal eye on him from here on out."

My breath caught. He was?

"What do you mean?" Liam seemed surprised by the viscount's revelation too.

"He's staying with me. Just as I said."

"But—But—that's ridiculous!" Liam yelled. "He's already tried to kill your brother. Now you want to give him a shot at you too!"

"This is not your decision, Liam. It's mine," Lord Ashton's voice sounded gravelly. I wanted to look over at him. Yet, I knew I would lose focus if I did.

Crop. Whip. Pain. Focus. Focus.

Their voices had dropped as they leaned back over the table. Time blurred as I kept still, my fingers itching to move from the back of my head, my limbs twitching with idleness.

"—Regent is asking for our help—"

"Several of the others don't agree with his plan..."

"...another letter here from Huxton...inviting us up to a dinner next week, but it's at the same time as..."

"...you go, Ash, and I'll take care of the shipment..."

Crop. Whip. Pain. Focus. Be strong. Be good.

I was drifting in the hazy numbness that came when I held position for so long. Huxton... Huxton... another name I'd heard...and it seemed important...the Earl?

I didn't know how long it had been any more. Both the steward and viscount had moved around the room, ignoring the living statue I'd become. Another fixture to be ignored in the room.

"...think Barrett was involved..."

"...he'll make a play for this next shipment, especially with the supply of gunpowder..."

"...our duty to get it to the Regent's men..."

C-crop... W-whip... Focus, Kye, Focus... The black rod. The braided handle. The... the sting of the leather tongue.

Prickles tingled along my spine in phantom memory of feeling the bite of the leather, of blood trickling down over my ribs, of the sliver of fear instilled by Master's assaults.

I blinked. Gods how long have I been standing here? I swallowed, my parched tongue thick in my mouth. I knew my slight tremble was rapidly deteriorating to shaking. My arms were tingling with needles of numbness. I could feel sweat tickling its way slowly down my spine.

Fuck! I pressed my eyes closed. This was almost worse than anything Master had done. At least then, I could focus on him, on his breathing, on what part of my body he would rip open with the cane next. This... this was—

"—you and Liam go get some dinner?"

My eyes snapped open. Someone else had come into the room, and I hadn't even noticed. Donnelly and Liam stood up at the viscount's suggestion. I realized the light from the window had changed, was lower on the horizon. Hours. I'd been here for hours.

Donnelly's sad eyes raked over me as he headed for the door. Liam, however, glared a silent warning at me before he disappeared from view.

They were leaving. They were leaving. My mind fought off the lethargy as it slowly came to awareness. They were leaving, and I would be alone with Lord Ashton. Finally.

"You can close the door, Liam," Lord Ashton stated as he moved back to his desk.

"Are you not going to eat?"

Just go! I trembled violently now that the end of this torment might be near.

"Soon. I'll check on Row in a few minutes," he mumbled, his pen scratching across the paper he was writing on. "I need to respond to Huxton's invitation."

"Sir?" Donnelly's voice again. "Should I bring something back for the little one?"

Gods, I wish he'd stop calling me that. I wasn't that fucking little. Skinny yes, maybe not as tall as he was, but still...

Lord Ashton's tawny cinnamon eyes swept up from his paper to me, and I almost broke right then. His gaze was warm, heated, and I wanted to crawl into the man, give him whatever he wanted from me. But I couldn't, not yet.

"Yes, please. Thank you, Donnelly."

I briefly closed my eyes, fighting the tremors in my thighs and the painful tingle in my arms for a few moments longer. The agony I'd been holding at bay for so long suddenly became excruciating. My fingers dug into the back of my head.

Breathe. Be strong. Control.

Footsteps. Door, click. Footsteps...receding.

"Lee!" I blurted as my knees buckled from under me. Oh thank the gods! I cried out as spikes of tingling pain burst through my extremities. Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes as I crumpled on the floor, panting heavily. I barely registered the shocked gasp of Lord Ashton. Finally, I was done.

As my forehead hit the floor in exhaustion, I managed one last whispered sentence. "Barrett's spy... is Lee."