Chapter 20

Ohhhh, Gods... I could hear myself moaning aloud, but I didn't care.

I sank into the steaming bath, immersing my achy body into the heat. It was almost too hot, but I didn't care. I needed this.

Hell, maybe I actually deserved it.

I froze for a moment, unsure of where that thought had come from.

Gods, could Ash be right? Maybe I wasn't completely worthless. I had helped last night, hadn't I? Just a little bit...

"... I know last evening and this morning has been hard on you..." Lord Ashton's voice wafted in through the crack in the doorway.

I rested my head back on the edge of the opulent tub. The whole bathing room was beautiful, almost Grecian in design, as open and airy as the rest of the Sterling manor. Such exquisite detail for a guest room.

"... finding your brother after so many years and then not being able to really have the time to talk to him yet..." The viscount must be talking to my brother. Tareth obviously had returned from fetching clothes. "It's hard to imagine what you must have felt seeing him yesterday, believing you'd lost him so long ago."

"But you do know how it feels, sir. You came close to losing Lord Rowland this week."

"Yes, but thanks to your brother, I didn't."

I heard some sniffling and the voices lowered, becoming muffled. Was that my brother... crying? For me?

"... how could he do that?..."

I splashed water on my face; I didn't want to hear the disgust in Tareth's voice knowing what I'd done to earn money for mama and papa. The heat from the bath veiled the flush I was sure stained my cheeks.

I didn't want him to think of me like that. Maybe it would have been better if we'd never found each other again. How would I be able to stand it, knowing every time he looked at me he'd know what Master Barrett used me for?

Slowly, that odd tickle of irritation teased the recesses of my mind, inching its way in past the shame, just as it had when I'd snapped at Tareth earlier.

He had no idea what it had been like after he'd left—how could he judge me now? When he hadn't been there? It wasn't like I wanted to be Master Barrett's toy, his pet. Papa said mama needed help, that they needed the help, since I had been a 'useless whelp' causing the farm to fail.

"... he's not the same person you grew up with anymore, Reth... You have no idea what your brother has been through, suffered, with Barrett. He's a..."

I ducked under the water. I didn't want to hear Lord Ashton describing what my former Master was like, but maybe it was better for Tareth to hear it from someone else. I had no desire to give him further details other than what I'd already blurted out to him. I held my breath for several long seconds before splashing up to the surface. I grabbed for the soap, intent on ignoring the voices in the next room, and focused only on scouring my skin vigorously. It was practically raw by the time I was done. After rinsing and draining the bath, I grabbed up the large cotton towel resting on the nearby bench.

Oh, gods, it was so soft and thick. I rubbed it briefly on my cheek before quickly drying off and wrapping the huge thing around me.

"—ank you for getting that cleaned up," Lord Ashton was saying.

"Yes, sir, of course, sir." Samuel. Damn, he was still in the room too. "I'm so sorry, sir. I didn't..."

I gripped the towel tighter. I didn't want to face any of the men in the other room like this. It was horrifying enough they had all seen me stripped half naked already.

"... Sam, it was an accident—"

"No, sir. I m-mean, about the boy. Kye. I'm sorry, I didn't know. You sent me there to watch Lord Barrett and I failed to even notice what—what he'd done, was doing to—"

Because I didn't want you to! Because we both would have been in trouble had you known! I railed at him in my head, fisting the towel.

"—I think Kye is done. I'll take him the clothes." I heard shuffling and rustling a few moments before the door to the bathing room opened. Tareth smiled at me, but it didn't reach his eyes. They were somber and red-rimmed.

"I found some clothes that should mostly fit," he offered. At first he held them out, but when I didn't take them for fear of dropping the towel, he set them down on the edge of the long marble wash stand.

"Thank you." I stepped towards them but made no move to remove the towel hiding most of my body. Tareth shifted uneasily when he realized I had no intention of dressing in front of him.

"Oh, yes, well, I'll be out here... Oh, and breakfast is waiting for you. I'm sure you're starving—" He broke off, paling at his choice of words. Of course, he'd noticed my gaunt form along with the scars. "Oh, um, I mean..."

I nodded, offering my brother a slightly reassuring smile. "I am hungry."

He grinned back. "Yes, me too." He turned for the door but paused. "And Kye... I'm sorry... I didn't mean to... say w-what I did a-about..."

I swallowed thickly as I nodded, hoping he'd stop talking. "I-I shouldn't have told you like—like I did."

"No, I needed to hear—" He wrung his hands before he forced out a huge breath. "There's just so much to talk about, and I feel like—like I'm going to explode. But there's time after you dress and eat. We have time. I'm just so... so anxious to hear... everything..."

I doubted that, but I nodded anyway. I certainly wanted to hear what Tareth had been doing for the last few years as well. Maybe he had been able to talk to mama and papa, to see how they were doing.

He was abruptly back in front of me, gently taking my bony shoulders. "But more than anything, I want you to know that I'm so glad to have finally found you."

My eyes shot up in surprise. He still wanted me around him? Even after knowing what I was?

This time I couldn't mistake the deep affection in those eyes bright with unshed tears. He reached up and brushed a damp strand of hair from my face. "I've missed you so much. And not knowing where you were..." He swallowed thickly, before clearing his throat. "You're not going anywhere soon, you hear me?" he chastised playfully.

I nodded, hoping it was true.

"Get dressed and come eat." He smiled as he backed out of the doorway, closing it softly behind him.

I dropped the towel, and quickly covered myself in the soft layers of clothing he had found for me. These fit a little better and seemed to be a bit nicer than the previous set I'd had. I pulled the drawstring tight around my bony hips to keep the pants from sliding down. The shirt was a common sleeveless work shirt, similar to what I'd worn working the farm. With the weather warming, I suspected it was what Tareth wore most of the time working in the stables.

After sitting down on the bench to slip on the cotton socks, I found a comb, a set of small folded linen squares, and shaving paraphernalia on the wash stand—not that I needed the shaving supplies, but it was nice the Sterling household servants found it fit to provide them in their guest room. I made use of the comb to tame the honey lengths framing my face. I hung the towel over a drying rod and folded up my former set of clothes. Holding them tight to my chest, I girded myself before stepping through the door.

As I expected, three sets of eyes turned to watch me. Samuel and Tareth both watched with trepidation, as if I might flee if they startled me. Ashton's eyes however darkened heatedly as he rose, beckoning me towards the small sitting area.

I glanced at the huge bed I'd slept in last night, hoping I hadn't dirtied the linens with my filthy clothes. The room was much larger than I expected for a guest room, but then all of the rooms I had seen so far (except my small storage room) seemed to be large and open. My brother and Lord Ashton were waiting in a cozy sitting area near a large marble fireplace. Samuel hovered near the door.

As I made my way over, Tareth began babbling again. "I did bring you some shoes too, but I didn't think you'd want to put them on now, with Dr. Fulbert coming to—to—check on you. Plus, you are probably tired and will want to sleep and—"

Ashton's hand on his shoulder halted Tareth's nervous chatter, and Tareth let out a huge rush of air as he looked at his lord's amused, quirked brow. "Reth, relax." Then he turned his smile on me. "Come, Kye. Sit. Eat. I think Sam and Alisha have brought back just about everything in the kitchen."

It did look like a feast had appeared after the demise of the previous breakfast tray.

"Oh, well, I wasn't sure what he might like," Samuel rushed out. "I know he eats bread—" He bit his lip, cutting himself off. Of course, he knew I would eat bread. Hell, I had eaten anything he brought me. "Well, L-Lord Barrett didn't send, um, much... variety up to y-your room... so I—"

"Sam. Thank you. You did well." Lord Ashton clearly was dismissing the man, who I thought might start apologizing to me again if the viscount hadn't intervened. Thankfully, he bowed out of the room.

My stomach rumbled as I took in the wide array of choices, the sweet sticky buns nearly causing me to drool. Barrett often served similar sweets to his guests, but he rarely offered me such a treat. Baroness DeLyle often found it amusing to teasingly feed me a bite or two while she and my master carried on denouncing whatever edict the Regent had recently passed.

Barrett's training, however, still governed my instincts and I stood still, waiting for permission, for instruction. Ashton's smile wavered slightly when I didn't sit and start eating right away. The crestfallen look as he slowly realized why I hadn't moved had me feeling a little lost and confused. I didn't like not knowing what was expected of me. And I wasn't sure anymore of my place here.

Ashton cast his gaze over the spread and reached for one of the buns, handing it to me on a small plate.

"Start with one of these. Rosa makes the best sweets. Am I right, Reth?" He reached for one himself as he waved for me to sit on the small couch. Tareth grinned, nodding as he picked one for himself and settled next to me.

The cinnamon sweetness burst on my tongue. I nearly swallowed the thing whole before I looked up to see Tareth and Ash smiling at me.

Tareth nudged me with his elbow. "Mama never made anything quite this good," he said conspiratorially as he took a huge bite too.

"Try the smoked ham," Ashton encouraged, leaning forward to stab a slice and drop it on my now empty plate.

And that was how the next half hour went: I would attempt to hold back inhaling whatever Lord Ashton dropped on my plate, and he would quickly refill it as soon as it was empty. He had stopped eating, relaxing back in his chair, casually crossing one ankle over his knee. I watched him carefully over the edge of my plate, taking in the pull of his black trousers over his muscular thighs.

The fullness of my belly was quickly making me languid, even though I'd only recently awakened. I let Ashton's deep baritone, which was regaling Tareth with last evening's exploits, wash over me. His voice left me with a sense of peace.

"... when are you leaving?" Tareth was asking.

Leaving? Ash was leaving? When? I blinked quickly as I tried to catch up to the conversation.

"Soon." Lord Ashton took in my look of alarm. "I want to make sure Kye is settled first."

"I'll see about getting an extra cot set up my room as soon as possible."

"No," the viscount stated emphatically, cutting off my brother. "He'll stay here. In the main house where it's safer. If that's okay with you, Kye. If you feel comfortable here."

He was asking my permission? I shifted, taking in the lack of aches that normally permeated my body from sleeping on my window seat or the cot. Of course, I was comfortable here. Hell, I'd never slept so well.

"Yes, sir, I'll stay where ever you'd like me to," I said quickly, hoping I didn't sound too eager to stay right where I was.

"Good." Ashton grinned, apparently pleased.

Tareth's eyes flitted around the room. "But sir... are you sure?"

I dropped my eyes to the floor. Of course, Tareth would be feel like I wasn't good enough to stay here. Hell, I knew I wasn't, but having my brother point it out to the powerful man had me flushing in embarrassment.

"I'm quite certain, Reth. Kye will stay here. Barrett is still out there, and the servants' quarters are more vulnerable."

"Yes, sir. But where will you—?"

"I'll deal with that when I return," Lord Ashton cut him off.

"Ahh, there he is," someone called from the door. I looked up to see Dr. Fulbert swinging the door wide open as he barged into the room. "Up and eating. That's good."

"Where is he?" another voice echoed behind the doctor.

I froze at the rough, raspy voice.

Count Rowland Sterling?

My eyes widened at the sight of the man edging carefully into the room behind the doctor with the help of Liam.

"Row!" Ashton darted across the room to embrace his brother.

I scrambled to my feet, hastening to find my balance as I struggled into position. Tareth had risen next to me and had deferentially dropped his eyes in the presence of Count Sterling.

"What the hell are you doing out of bed?" Ashton demanded.

The count chuckled, "Just getting a little sick of being cooped up."

Ashton snapped his eyes back to the doctor, the silent question pinning the man in place. Dr. Fulbert raised his hands to ward off the viscount's ire. "I told him it would be fine for just a few minutes. We've been working on small treks around his room. I think he can handle one or two short trips around the house now. The poison wrought havoc on his body, but he needs to work on regaining his strength now."

"Plus, I had to come see my little angel." Rowland grinned, turning his gaze to me. His angel? What the hell was he talking about? I'd nearly gotten him killed.

I saw Liam and Ashton frown as Rowland leaned heavily on the wall.

"When Gabriel said he had to check on Kye, I had to come down so I could thank my angel in person."

My mouth opened, ready to refuse his gratitude and refute his claim, but Ashton and Liam were both shooting questions at the same time.

"What do you mean—angel?" Ashton asked.

Liam looked stricken. "What are you talking about? He told us he helped Barrett."

I wanted to sink into the ground as four men that I actually liked stared at me. I'd never been around so many people who hadn't wanted to hurt me, to degrade or humiliate me before. "I didn't—" I croaked out, keeping my eyes on the count. "I wasn't—" but I wasn't sure what to say, and it was killing me as Tareth was staring at me with his wide eyes that I'd have to crush him with the knowledge that I was an accomplice in his lord's attempted murder.

Lord Ashton already knew that. I'd told him, even if he tried to deny it. He'd known I hadn't been able to stop Barrett from poisoning his brother. So why was he looking at me with such awe and curiosity now? He knew what I'd done. Lord Rowland must know my culpability; I wasn't sure why he wasn't upset.

I dropped to the floor, my thighs screaming as I settled immediately into position on my knees, hands automatically dropping to my thighs. Ready to accept his punishment.

I focused on what I had to do, ignoring the sharp hisses and the gasps coming from the other men in the room.

"I'm so sorry, sir." I addressed Count Rowland, even as I kept my eyes pinned to the floor in front of me.

"Kye?" Tareth's voice cracked with alarm and worry at my subservient position.

"Kye...don't..." Lord Ashton—Ash. I closed my eyes against the pain-laced tone, causing a tear to slip down my cheek. He was crouched in front of me, attempting to pull me up. "You know I don't believe this was your fa—"

"What the hell are you sorry for?" the count's voice barked out. I nearly lost control and looked up at him, shocked by his statement. He had to know I'd known my master—Barrett—was planning to poison him.

"Row?" I heard Liam's voice questioning the count.

"The boy fucking saved my life. Get up, angel," Rowland demanded. "I don't know why you think you have anything to be sorry for."

What? I couldn't help my head from snapping up this time.

"How did you know he'd told Sam about the poison?" Ashton asked his brother as he guided me to my feet.

"He told Sam?" Rowland frowned.

"Yes, that's how we knew you'd been poisoned with hemlock and were able to treat you so quickly," Dr. Fulbert put in. "Isn't that what you are talking about? Him telling Sam so we could take care of you so fast?"

Lord Rowland was frowning at me. "You also told Sam? So he could get me help?"

"Kye, what—?" Tareth asked again, confused.

"I—" But I didn't have any words. They'd become choked off in my throat as Rowland grinned at me.

"Ash, this boy is one of the bravest men I know. You should have seen him. He fooled everyone—me, Barrett, that vile steward of his. When I saw Barrett's amorato crawling into my lap—"

Both Ashton and Tareth's eyes widened in surprise. Liam's narrowed, and I could feel the jealousy pouring off of him. I cringed at the description of my lewd behavior.

"...I didn't know what to think," Rowland continued lightly, amused by his brother's confusion. "I was shocked, horrified. That bastard Barrett just grinned and laughed at my embarrassment. I almost shoved my angel to the floor. But then he whispered 'Drink. Poisoned.' into my ear and... Gods, Ash, he absolutely saved my life. If I'd had any more of that whiskey..."

"Oh fucking hell..." Liam murmured, raking a hand over his pale face. Strangely, he looked a little sick.

Ashton was looking at me now, mystified. "Kye? Why didn't you tell me that? Why would tell me you let Barrett poison my brother?"

"I—" My eyes darted between the four men staring at me curiously, before I finally landed on the Count himself. "I did let him p-poison you, sir. I knew he had the hemlock, and he'd said he was going to—" I broke off, drawing a breath. "I knew. I didn't say anything. I didn't stop him."

"But you fucking did!" Ashton yelled, and I couldn't figure out why he was yelling.

"No, I—"

"Kye." Ashton was pulling me towards him, his grip hard and possessive. He was staring at me intently, and I thought maybe he might kiss me again.

"You always were like that," Tareth's voice murmured from somewhere behind me. "Always taking the blame."

"That doesn't surprise me," Ashton sighed, drawing me in. I sank against him, reveling in his warmth. I suddenly felt another hand smooth over my head and looked up to see the count staring down at me with curiously damp eyes.

"You are a miracle, Kye. I don't know why you feel the need to take the blame that belongs solely with Barrett, but you don't. He tried to poison me; he's the one who tried to kill me. You stopped him. If I had consumed more of that drink, I'm not sure I would be standing here now. If you hadn't— You risked his wrath to stop him. I can't imagine what he would have done to you if he'd found out what you did. That you warned me. That you told Sam."

My body tensed at the memory and I startled, my hand flitting to my neck. My vision blurred slightly as I remembered the piece of glass ready to slice open my throat, the murderous look in Master's eyes, pain exploding from the back of my head.

Hands suddenly wrapped around my wrists, pulling them from my neck. I clamped my eyes shut as Ashton's hands slowly gripped the sides of my jaw before he tilted my neck, sweeping aside my hair. I shuddered when his fingers skimmed the small nick Master had made at the side of my throat.

"There was glass..." Ashton said softly, almost to himself, and I looked up to see his eyes pinned to the throbbing pulse at my throat. His thumb slowly sweeping over it. "When I found you... you were surrounded by broken glass... and whiskey... you smelled of whiskey... I thought you were drunk... but... but you weren't, were you?"

I lowered my lashes, not wanting to remember that night, but shook my head slightly.

"Gods..." Ash sighed, his sharp exhale feathering wisps of my hair. His lips tightened into a thin line, and he looked like he was struggling to reign in his anger. "Tell me."

I was already shaking my head. I didn't want to tell him how close I'd come to dying that night; how I'd wished I had consumed the tainted whiskey.

"Ash? What are you saying?" the count's voice was tinged with alarm.

I heard the sharp catch of Tareth's breath behind me, as well as the doctor mutter something behind the hand covering his mouth.

"Oh, hell..." Liam paled further, his hands rubbing over his face.

But Ashton's focus remained on me. "Please."

Oh, gods how I wanted to stay strong, stay in control, but that voice, pleading with me, had me falling under his allure. "He wanted me to drink it," I finally whispered. "But I wouldn't... the glass spilled, broke..."

"Drink what?" he urged softly, even though I think he already knew the answer.

"The wh-whiskey."

"Wait." Count Rowland was frowning as he came to stand next to his brother. He appeared confused, and I suspected he had yet to be informed of what had happened during his convalesce. "The whiskey? What do you mean? My whiskey? The one he'd poisoned?"

I nodded quickly. "Yes, sir. I believe so."

"Oh, gods, Kye." I hated seeing the heartsick look on Tareth's face from the corner of my eye. He looked as if he wanted to grab me, but refrained from doing so in the presence of his lords looming over me.

While I missed the refuge I'd found in Tareth's brotherly embraces, I also found myself strangely comforted by the man holding me now. I hoped he didn't let go.

"And when you didn't drink it?"

Fuck, I could hardly concentrate with that thumb stroking over my throat. "The glass. He—he was going to use the glass."

Fingers tensed, pausing in their exploration of my neck. "Damn it!" Ashton cursed softly.

"What?" Tareth shot out, demanding to know what Lord Ashton had divined.

Ashton released a ragged, harsh, and unhappy sigh as he looked up at both Tareth and his brother's questioning gazes. "Barrett tried to cut Kye," Ashton explained, then he twisted my neck, brushing back my hair. "Here. He—he tried to slice his throat."

"Fuck," Count Rowland snarled angrily.

"No!" Tareth gasped, obviously just realizing how close he'd come to truly never seeing me again.

"But he didn't. Why?" Ashton asked softly.

My lashes flicked upwards. "You."

His breath caught. "Me?"

"Richard came in, saying you were there, and they needed to leave... to—" Memories rushed back at me "—to a northern estate?"

"Northern estate? He doesn't have a northern estate, does he?" Rowland asked, glancing back at Liam.

"None that we know of."

"We'll have to look into that," Ashton added. "Maybe he's staying with someone in the northern provinces."

"Didn't he tell you all this when you found him?" Rowland asked both Ashton and Liam, still trying to figure out what had happened.

"No, he was out of it," Liam admitted. "We thought he was drunk; he even vomited on Charlie," he added with a smile.

"My head was hurting," I mumbled.

"What?" Ashton asked sharply.

"Mas—Barrett banged my head against the wall. I—I couldn't think—"

"Fuck," Liam cursed again. "And I had Charlie toss you over his shoulder to take you back to the estate and lock you in the old storeroom."

"You what?!" Rowland roared.

The steward cringed. "Damn it, Row. I thought he'd been an accomplice in poisoning you! We all did. He even said so! You heard him here still saying it!"

"You've kept my Angel locked up in a cell all this time?"

"I didn't know!" Liam defended. "All I knew was he admitted to helping that bastard try to kill you. Gods, Row, you have to know how that made me feel. I was—"

"Yes, I understand," the count interrupted softly, nodding his understanding. And I thought I could see the sparks of passion between the two, the total devastation on the steward's face at the thought of losing Lord Rowland.

Ashton returned his gaze back to me. "Kye, I'm so sorry. I should have—I wished I'd noticed—paid more attention—"

No, no, no, this man could not be blaming himself for... for what?... not noticing that my Master had tried to kill me? The poor man had been stark raving mad with anger at the thought of his brother's attempted murder. He had more important things on his mind than Barrett's whore. His brother was dying! And the culprit was escaping.

Boldly, I reached up and gripped the wrists of the hands still holding my jaw. "No, sir. You saved me. He was ready to... to be... done with me. And I—I was ready to go."

A choked sob came from Tareth's direction, but I held the anguished gaze of the man in front of me.

"You've... given me hope... when I had none left."