Once Upon a Romance 02 - As The Last Petal Falls Read Online Free PDF

couldn’t keep from grinning at the overdone sincerity she loaded into her response. He was surprised when she offered back a mischievous smile, instead of pouting or demanding he believe her.
    “I’ll say one thing, Miss Wellesley. You’re a bundle of contradictions.”
    “So I’ve been told. I choose to believe it’s part of my charm. But, please, call me Isabelle. Now perhaps you would be so good as to let me know to whom I am beholden for such fine hospitality?”
    “I’m Fain MacTíre, and this is my keep.”
    “Well, thank you for the incredibly suspicious welcome, Master MacTíre.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m suddenly very sleepy.” She handed him the empty cup, and made herself comfortable on the bed once more.
    Fain watched as she straightened the blankets awkwardly with one hand. Even dirty, and tired, and injured, the girl was beautiful. Wherever she was from, whoever she was, she certainly wouldn’t have passed unnoticed. Which should make checking her story a relatively easy task.

Chapter Four
    Fain closed the heavy slab door with a muffled thud, and strode off through the echoing stone hallway. Most of the keep’s inhabitants were abed at this hour, but there were still torches alight in their sconces, allowing the guards to see during their rounds and filling the halls with the tang of smoke. In a happier time these hallways would be softly illuminated with oil lamps or candlelight, but both were difficult to smuggle into the mountains in large quantities. It galled Fain to know that in Inisle, the capital of Toldas, the palace was filled with gas lights, while his people had to make do with the ever-present scent of pitch.
    His boot heels clattered angrily down the hall, unmuffled by any carpet. The keep was missing so many soft touches that would turn it into a modern stronghold, instead of a throwback to medieval times. No drapes, no tapestries, no carpets; in the winter they even ran short of oil for the few personal lamps. Food was scarce when storms kept them from hunting, and just at the moment they had barely enough soap to keep everyone from the illnesses caused by filth.
    Come to think of it, he was pretty sure Marlplot hadn’t bathed in over a month.
    He stopped and took a heaving breath, letting it out in a rush. It wasn’t like him to get worked up over the lack of civilization in the keep. Their life was as it was, and everyone who chose to join him had made their peace with it long ago. No, he was fretting over things he could not change because of
her
.
    He spent his life focused on his duty, never thinking of the hardships involved. He never doubted that it was worth the sacrifices, but to have a self-centered, pampered brat ensconced in his bed, holding her tea in smooth, uncalloused hands, reminded him of the life he’d left behind. A life that he could never claim again.
    He shook his head in frustration, and then was irritated when his shaggy hair whipped across his face. He ran his fingers through it and tried to calm down. There was no point in dwelling on the lass, especially when she had probably never actually lived the life he missed. She was almost certainly a spy, sent to find them and report. It was a stroke of luck that her injury would make it difficult for her to escape unaided. He could keep her here, permanently if need be, and their location would be safe.
    In the meantime he would send someone to Albion; more information couldn’t hurt. There was even some possibility that she wasn’t a spy, in which case he could release her in the spring. With that decision made, he started off down the corridor once more. He knew just the fellow to send.

    “Baines, wake up, man!”
    “Mgph?”
    “I said wake up, you lazy sod, I’ve a job that needs attending.”
    “MacTíre, is that you?”
    “Who else would it be?”
    “I was hoping it might be a pink-cheeked maiden, with an ample bosom and a yearning for forbidden