Cimmerian Shade

Chapter 13 pt 1

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Ch. 13 “For nothing is secret that shall not be made manifest, neither anything hid that shall not be known and come abroad.”-The Holy Bible

Brandon was still unaware of what was going through her mind. Ever since she returned from the errand he’d sent her on two weeks prior, she had been obstinate, snappy, and stubborn.

The first week he gave her the benefit of the doubt. Torrington implied that she might not be feeling well. “It could be…her…her woman’s thing,” he suggested, awkwardly.

Brandon promptly held his hand up, thanked him for his input, and insisted that he keep his “mouth shut from henceforth on.”

Torrington laughed, voicing the opinion that she’d soon get over whatever it was that was bothering her. “Be patient, Brandon,” he advised. “It won’t do to pummel her with questions before she is ready to confide in you. She’ll tell you what is wrong, trust me.”

Brandon did trust Adam Torrington, but what he said would happen, did not. Every possible means to break through her defenses had been attempted; he stretched himself to the limit, showing great patience and kindness. Yet, her answer to anything involved with spending any amount of time with him was “no thank you, your grace,” and he found himself tightly clenching his fists to restrain himself from strangling her pretty little neck. By the end of the second week, Brandon’s patience had worn thin, indeed, and oddly enough, his aloofness seemed to make her more comfortable.

The only time the pair were together anymore, was when they met in his study so that she could acquire additional assignments, or when they were on route to a party. The second they arrived to said party, she would quickly leave his side. He’d only been able to intrude on her sessions with William a few times, and when he would do so, the reception he received was very cold.

Brandon sat in his study, scowling at his paperwork, realizing that his thoughts had again, turned to his blasted governess. Unable to concentrate, he shifted his anger towards the ceiling, staring daggers at it. Faintly hearing the laughter of Miss Crabtree and the infernal Miss Bates; he frowned, turning his attention back to his work.

***

*Above stairs*

“Are you sure, Katrina? You really wish to go through with this?”

Alla laughed again. “Of course, I’m sure. I’ve told you that I was twice already. If you do not want to join me I will understand. I don’t wish for trouble to arise with you and Torrington, besides—“

“I’ll not let you go by yourself; I mean what I say. What Torrington doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Alla grinned at her knowingly. “I thought you both were honest in all things, Breanne.”

Breanne raised her brows. “If he asks me if I went to a tavern then I shall tell him. Of course he must be specific about it. He must state the exact place…mayhap the time as well,” she finished, thoughtfully. “What about you and the duke?”

Alla frowned. “What about him?”

“Are you not the least bit worried that you could possibly lose your employment?”

“I don’t care if I do. Now, enough of these what-if’s, Breanne. Do you have any clue as to what we should wear?” Walking to the armoire, she rifled through her clothes, searching for something appropriate for their outing; completely unaware that her friend was frowning at her back.

“What happened between the two of you?”

Alla swung around. “Whatever do you mean?” she asked, blankly.