Page 110 of Ashen Torment
“Oh, I feel the same for him!” he replies, a smile touching his lips. “I am very fond of your valet.”
I turn toward him. “Would you like to go inside? The air is cold.”
He glances at the other carriages and the servants scattered across the courtyard, hesitant.
“That is very kind of you, Viscou—”
A thunderous voice behind us makes him start.
“We are leaving without delay, Laurence! My head is on the verge of exploding!”
Lord Dorian stops dead, motionless, his gaze fixing on me. The muscles of his jaw are clamped, his hands clenched into fists.
“What are you doing here?”
“It is my courtyard,” I reply, indicating the space with a wide sweep of my hand.
He runs a hand through his hair but withdraws it immediately because of the wound. The ointment is still glossy and fresh against his diaphanous skin.
“Were you not off delighting yourself with Agnes?”
His valet turns toward him, his eyes widening.
“My lord what happened to you?”
“Nothing, Laurence.” He dismisses him with a wave of his hand.
He takes a step toward me, his body tense, his gaze lightning-fast.
“Well?”
“Mademoiselle Agnes has gone back inside.”
“Did you enjoy yourself?”
“Were you bored?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Given the absence of Lady Isobel.”
“What does that have to do—”
“In light of your evident interest in her.”
He gawks at me, confused. “What the hell are you raving about?”
He is faking it, the bastard.
“Considering your kindness, thoughtfulness, attentiveness.”
“Has the laudanum perhaps gone to your head?” A quick sneer manifests on his face.
Now it is I who feels the irritation mounting, my hands clench involuntarily and my fingers begin to prickle.
I should have hit him harder.
“Safe travels back.”
