Chapter 6

In Crane’s absence, Nico found himself thinking of Elisabeth often. Had Crane gotten her all the way to Eldridge Hall? What had they found there? Would he return with Elisabeth if her brother was dead? Marry her? She was young, but not too young to marry, and Nico imagined she would appreciate the security. That was what she had asked him for that night in her room, after all: safety, someone to protect her.

At night, in the small hours when he couldn’t sleep, something chewed at his insides like a rat in a corpse. He couldn’t stop thinking of Arnaud and his seeming desperation to find Elisabeth, and the ease with which his master had shot a man in cold blood.

“Stop moping,” Colin said to him as they cleared the dead shrubs from the garden under a cold, gray sky. “Miss Talbot was never meant for you.”

Nico narrowed his eyes, hoping Colin would get the hint and drop the subject.

“Don’t get me wrong, she’s a lovely girl, but she’s too dependent. She needs someone like Crane, who can provide—”

Subtlety was wasted on some people. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Colin ignored him. “—a comfortable life. You need a partner.”

Nico had always imagined meeting a girl who shared his interests in literature and medicine, someone with whom he could have meaningful conversations. But he wasn’t jealous of Crane and Elisabeth. He just wanted to know that she was safe.

“When are you going to tell Abby how you feel about her?” Nico asked.

“When I’ve made something of myself, I’ll ask her to marry me. What have I got now to tempt her?”

Nico waggled his eyebrows. “Charm and good looks, of course.”

“I’ll leave that to the likes of you and Branson. Well, the good looks, anyway. I’ve got more charm in my little finger than Branson has in his entire body.”

Nico snorted in agreement. “Speaking of which, where is Branson? I’ve hardly seen him since that day the master shot the trespasser.”

“I think he’s avoiding leaving the manor in case we find any more bodies. He was always a bit squeamish, but now he seems downright spooked.”

“I suppose burying a man you’ve seen killed is different than an anonymous corpse in the woods.”

They both looked up at the sound of jangling tack and hoofbeats. The master’s carriage was coming up the road, pulled by one of the dependable cart horses.

Nico’s eyebrows lifted when he saw that Crane was alone.

“Good day, sir,” Colin said, taking hold of the horse’s harness. “I take it Miss Talbot got home safely.”

“She did indeed.” Crane climbed down from the carriage and dusted off his coat. “Fetch Gavin, would you? The horse needs to be cooled down. It was a difficult journey. Nico, help me with my trunk.”

He hurried forward and lifted the trunk from the back of the carriage. “Did you make it to Eldridge Hall, sir?”

“We went straight to Miss Talbot’s home. It was a more direct route.”

Nico was unable to keep the surprise out of his voice. She had seemed determined to find her brother. “Her parents survived? How fortunate.”

“Just her father. But yes, it was a very happy homecoming.” Nico couldn’t help noticing how healthy and refreshed he looked, as if he’d just come back from a holiday. It must have lifted Crane’s spirits to see survivors. It was certainly buoying Nico’s to hear about them. “Shame about her mare, though.”

“Locket? Did something happen to her?”

“We had to ford a river at one point. The cart horse had no trouble with it, but Locket absolutely refused to cross. We had no choice but to leave her behind.”

“Miss Talbot must have been distraught,” Nico said, thinking of the way Elisabeth cared for the mare, more than once asking Nico to pilfer an apple from the stores. They didn’t have enough to spare, but he found he couldn’t say no to her. “She loved that mare so much.”

“It was difficult, of course. But she understood that it was the only way to make it back to her family. What is a horse compared to being reunited with her father?” Crane seemed to put the matter to bed, though Nico’s heart still ached at the thought of Locket all alone in the forest, at the mercy of the wolves. “How have things been here?”

Nico hefted the trunk with his knee. “Good, sir. Just one body, and it was quite old. I think we’ve covered all your land now.”

“Excellent. We may move on to neighboring lands soon, but for now you can see to the storeroom. Winter will be here before we know it. Take my trunk up to my chambers.” He paused and ruffled Nico’s hair affectionately. “You’re a good lad.”

Nico was annoyed at the way the words warmed him. There was a part of him that craved Crane’s approval, his own father having withheld it until the day he died, but he was a grown man now. He wanted to hear more about Elisabeth and her reunion with her father, not be dismissed like a child.

A wave of guilt washed over him for thinking her deluded. In fact, she’d been incredibly brave to venture out into the world on her own. He should have left Crane Manor himself ages ago; should have found physicians doing the work of searching for a cure for the Bloody Three and helped, for God’s sake.

He took the trunk upstairs and unpacked the clothing, then carried it downstairs to the laundry, his heart heavy despite the good news that the plague was gone, that Elisabeth was safe.

“The master is home?” Abby said as she took the armful of clothing from him. “Miss Talbot?”

“Happily reunited with her father.” He knelt down to pick up a shirt that had fallen on the floor and frowned at a splatter of dark stains on one of the sleeves. Crane was usually fastidious, but he had been on the road for over a week. “Looks like this one will need extra washing,” he said as he handed it to Abby.

She scraped at one of the small spots with a fingernail. “Blood. Should come out with enough scrubbing.”

Nico’s stomach gave a slight twist, though it had nothing to do with squeamishness. “Blood? Are you sure?”

“It’s not wine,” she said, though she sniffed it anyway. “Not to worry. The master cuts himself shaving sometimes. I’ll see to it.”

“Thank you, Abby.” Nico left the laundry room and headed toward the storeroom, but something was nagging at him. The master hadn’t shaved on his trip; he had the beard to prove it. More likely the master had caught a rabbit for dinner one night. He was an excellent hunter, and he wouldn’t want to go so long without fresh meat. The stain looked like blood spray.

He shivered. The animal must have struggled.

Nico entered the storeroom and frowned. It was more barren this year than last, and even worse than the year before. There were still fresh vegetables and fruit in the gardens, but there was no wheat or barley, or any of the other field-grown crops that the surrounding farms would have produced. Mrs. Horner had preserved what she could, but there were more people living at Crane Manor than there had been when Nico first arrived. They would have to decrease their rations yet again.

Before he left his family home, Nico had taken what he could from the surrounding abandoned houses and managed, but the fresh food only lasted so long. He shuddered at the memory of wandering through one particular country manor, where he’d found three bodies rotting on their blood-soaked mattresses. He had buried them, alone, knowing he’d want someone to do the same for his family.

Now it fell to Nico to alert his master to their lack of food. He found him in his study, writing what looked like a letter. “Sorry to disturb you, sir, but—”

“Hello, Mott. Come in. How are the stores looking?”

He scratched at the back of his neck, not sure how truthful he should be.

Crane looked up. “That bad, eh?”

“We’ll have to ration, sir.”

“With the bodies cleaned up, you and Colin can spend more time hunting. We’ll cure what we can’t eat, though I do prefer fresh meat. How many sheep are left?”

“I believe seven, sir.”

“Good. That should ensure us some lamb come spring.” His tongue darted between his lips, as if he was tasting a lamb chop that very moment. Crane set his quill down and turned around. He had black hair that brushed his shoulders and dark, deep-set eyes. His clean-shaven skin practically glowed in the lamplight. “You’re looking well, Mott. Much better than when I brought you here. How old are you now?”

“Nineteen, sir.”

A wistful look passed over the master’s face. “When I was nineteen, I toured the continent with my best friend. We had a wonderful time. Have you traveled much?”

“No, sir. I was sixteen when the plague hit. My father was already dead.”

“Mmm. You have brothers, correct?”

Nico swallowed down his apprehension. Crane had never asked him so many personal questions before. “Had. They died in the plague.”

Crane rubbed his chin. “Yes, that’s right. Very unfortunate.” He picked a small framed portrait off his desk and held it up for Nico. “I lost my beloved wife, as you know. She was only twenty-five.”

The portrait was too small to see any detail from where Nico stood, but he smiled politely. “She was very beautiful, sir.”

“She was. And so sweet. I doubt I shall ever find her equal. Although the first is always the most special, don’t you think?”

Nico had no frame of reference for such things, but he nodded anyway.

Crane chuckled. “I see. What about our Abby? She is a pretty girl.”

Nico’s cheeks warmed and he found himself staring at his toes. “I believe she prefers Branson, sir.”

“Women. They always prefer the villain, eh?” He shook his head and returned the portrait to his desk. “Never mind that. I’m sure you’ll have your chance. And with more immaculates coming out of the woodwork, it’s entirely possible someone new will come along. It might even be time to go to the city and see what we can find, now that we know the plague is truly gone. I get first pick, of course.” He flashed a vulpine smile, one Branson would have cheerfully returned, but one Nico found as off-putting as his master’s words. Something dark and cold oozed through his belly.

He remembered what Elisabeth had said about the way Crane looked at her. Up until her arrival, Nico had only ever seen Crane behave like a gentleman, but maybe that had more to do with the fact that their last few guests had been men. He recalled a young woman when he’d first arrived at Crane Manor, but he’d been so enamored of Crane then, too awestruck by his master’s magnanimity and the comfort of a properly run household full of other warm bodies to notice anything amiss.

“Was there something you wished to tell me, Mott?”

Nico cleared his throat, aware that his master was expecting some sort of response. “Hunting, sir. Should Colin and I go tomorrow? I’ve seen quite a few pheasants in the forest, and rabbits.”

“I actually had something else in mind,” Crane said. “For all you boys. Meet me in the library in one hour—and tell Chambers and Branson to join you.” He turned back around to his letter, though to whom he was writing, Nico had no idea.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Nico mumbled, still unaccustomed to being dismissed so abruptly after all this time. As he passed the large four-poster bed, he noticed a ruffle poking out from underneath. It was delicate lace, just like the collar of Elisabeth’s dress. Nico stumbled, unable to pull his eyes away from the fabric.

“Steady on,” Lord Crane said with a laugh. “No wonder you haven’t caught yourself a woman yet.”

***

Nico had no time to talk to Colin before they made their way to the library, but his mind was still racing from his interaction with Crane. Had the master always been this repugnant? Or had something changed in the past week?

He relaxed slightly when he saw Crane lounging on one of the sofas in the library, a pleasant smile on his face as he read a book with a burgundy cover and gold lettering.

When they entered the room, Crane clapped the book closed and set it down on the cushion next to him. “Good evening, lads. Thank you for coming. Please, take a seat.”

Colin and Nico exchanged a glance, but Branson didn’t hesitate to lower himself onto the sofa, taking up far more than his share of the space and glancing around him in a way that said, “Ah yes, this is where I belong.” Nico couldn’t blame him entirely; in a past life, it was exactly where they belonged.

When they were all seated, the master lowered his legs and turned to face them. “As you know, we’ve cleared the lands for miles in every direction. You’ve done a remarkably good job, and I commend you for your hard work.”

Was the lord finally going to pay them for their work? Reward them in some way? Nico leaned forward a bit.

“And now I have another favor to ask of you.”

Nico deflated a bit. Of course. But Colin and Branson were still leaning forward, eager.

“When I was returning from taking Miss Talbot to her father, I decided to go past Eldridge Hall, to see if her brother was still alive.”

“What did you find, sir?” Branson asked.

“Very little to give Miss Talbot encouragement, which is why I didn’t go back to her. However, I had decided to camp for the night nearby, and just as I was settling down to sleep, I saw what looked like a candle in the highest window of the highest tower. It was just a glimmer through a crack; all the windows have been boarded up. But unless my eyes were playing tricks on me—and I have excellent night vision—there is someone living at Eldridge Hall.”

“You didn’t try to enter, sir?” Nico asked, because he already had a feeling where this conversation was leading.

“No. I was alone, and if I was wrong and there were people inside the castle, including a mad king, it could have been very dangerous. But three strapping young lads like yourselves will be safe together.”

Nico arched an eyebrow. “You want us to, what, exactly? Storm the castle?”

Colin elbowed him none too gently in the ribs.

“I don’t mean to be impertinent, sir, but if the castle is indeed boarded up, how are we to enter?”

“If someone is alive inside, there is a way of getting in and out. They couldn’t possibly have had enough food to last this long. I didn’t have the luxury of staying there for days to watch and wait. My people needed me here, of course. But you have all done such a marvelous job of clearing my lands, as I said, and the other servants are perfectly capable of running the manor without you. I’ll hunt while you’re away, to be sure we have plenty of provisions for any immaculates who may be inside Eldridge Hall.”

A chill crept up Nico’s spine into his hair. “Immaculates, sir?”

“Immaculates, immunes, you know what I mean. Any survivors.” There was a sharp edge to Crane’s voice that hadn’t been there a moment earlier. Nico was sure of it.

“Of course, sir,” Colin said. “We are happy to do it. And if we do find any survivors, are we to approach them? Or should we return home and tell you first?”

“If you’re spotted, then of course you should introduce yourselves so they know you mean them no harm. But if not, then yes, one of you should return here to tell me and I will join you. We will inform them that it is safe to come out, and that they have friends here at Crane Manor.”

Nico was about to question why anyone living in the castle would want to come to Crane Manor, but Colin cut him off.

“Yes, sir.” He rose, dragging Nico up with him. “We’ll leave tomorrow morning.”

“Excellent,” Crane said with another one of his toothy smiles. “I knew I could count on you boys. You’re like sons to me. And one day I hope to leave all that I have to you. Continue to serve me loyally, and one of you could be the lord of Crane Manor.”

Branson flashed an oily grin, and Colin stood a little taller, squaring his shoulders. It hadn’t escaped Nico what the master had said: one of you. He was pitting them against one another, goading them into seeing who could be the most loyal. The unspoken words his friends couldn’t hear chilled his blood: Find me immaculates, and you will be rewarded.

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