She looked up as I entered.
“Unless I’m interested in reading the history of our accumulated wealth, or lack thereof, I’m afraid there isn’t much here for me.”
I closed the door so no one would overhear us.
“Please tell me you’re not wearing it,” I said in a hushed tone.
She frowned at me, her confusion clear.
“Wearing what?”
“The necklace. The green one that arrived for Mother. I had it in the hiding spot in the floor, and it’s gone.” I held out the empty piece of leather as proof.
“I didn’t take it.” She glanced at the leather then met my gaze. “Why did you hide it away if you didn’t want any of Mother’s jewelry as a reminder?”
There was no censure. Only my sister trying to understand my motivations.
“I didn’t want the reminder.” I sighed. “It’s hard to explain. It was the last thing she received. It just felt important and private.”
I couldn’t lie to my sister. I never could. That was why all of what I said was true; yet, none of it came close to the truth.
“I understand,” Kellen said. “Let’s ask Judith and Anne.”
However, Judith and Anne hadn’t seen the necklace while tidying our room.
“You know how things are here,” Judith said. “You can hear mice scratching in the walls at night. If you put a trinket in your hidey-hole, there’s a chance that a mouse might have taken off with it. They like shiny things. We need a cat.”
I knew she was right. Not about the cat but about the mice. The necklace wasn’t the first item to go missing because of the cute pests. But, it was by far the most important. I should have known not to tempt fate by putting the necklace in the floor.
Angry with my own foolishness, I left the house alone. The wind tugged at my cloak as I walked toward Mother’s grave. Having already visited with her today, I didn’t stop again. Instead, I carried on through the trees, wandering the familiar woods.
Animals skittered through the underbrush, making way for my passing. Some scolded me with their little, outraged chitters. Normally, I would have been amused and paused to talk back to them. But, I couldn’t. Not today. I was too angry.
How could I have been so careless? That necklace had been my one piece of proof that my mother hadn’t died of a natural cause. Without it, the person responsible would never be brought to justice. Proof, when dealing with magic, was the key. Even with proof, things might have ended badly for me. However, without proof, my quest to find answers was over before it ever began.
I kicked at a fallen branch.
No, I couldn’t think like that. The necklace wasn’t gone forever. Just misplaced. If there were vermin in the house, they had to have a nest somewhere. I only needed to find it.
I was so lost in thought that the sudden, loud voice just in front of me took me by surprise.
“Leave now, by order of the king.”
Startled, I jumped back as I looked up. My heel slipped, and I tumbled backward. Time slowed as our gazes locked. Though I hadn't glimpsed his face earlier, I recognized the man.
The dark blue eyes of the nap-headed scoundrel held mine. He had the audacity to smirk as I landed with a soft splat on the spring-dampened ground. A cold moisture seeped through my skirts and chilled my backside.
Stunned, I stared up at the man as he leaned on his walking stick. Close to my age, he was far more handsome than he had a right to be. His broad shoulders were properly covered by a rough coat this time, but my pulse nevertheless skipped a beat as I recalled how he looked without it. However, since I wasn’t sure if his humor was meant to be shared or at my expense, I refused to give my attraction to the man any due.
“Did you intend to send me flying into the mud?” I asked.
“I find that’s where most of your kind belong.”
My mouth dropped open, and my already frayed temper ignited. He was just like all the other pretty faces in town.
“You are a boorish ass,” I said, setting my hands on the ground to hoist myself up. I ignored the squish of mud between my fingers and the surprised lift to his brows.
“Boorish ass?”
“Yes. Are you hard of hearing?”
I struggled to my feet, regretting that I hadn’t noted the wet ground before my fall. His smirk widened with growing amusement each time I slipped and dirtied myself further. When I finally won my footing back with no offer of help from him, I was ready to throw a rock at his head. I could already imagine the hollow sound it would make when it connected.
“I do suppose braying ass would suit you better,” I said with deceptive calm as I shook as much mud as I could from my skirts.
His humor fled, and he frowned at me.
“You have no right to call me anything,” he said, once again sounding high-handed. “I am not the one trespassing.”
How ridiculously presumptuous of him. This time, it was I who wore the smirk.
“Are you sure about that? This is the king’s land. While I indeed have permission to be here, I doubt you do. It would be in your best interest to flee before I summon the king’s guard.”
He tilted his head to consider me. The vivid blue of his eyes held me for a moment, and I once again found myself slipping into the pleasantness of his visage…until disdain flooded his expression.
“You have permission?” Doubt laced his every word.
I averted my gaze and started looking at the ground for a rock. Surely, the spring thaw would be kind enough to grace me with one. It didn’t need to be large. Just big enough to knock some sense into the nit.
As I searched, I answered him.
“Yes, I live here. I’m Eloise Cartwright.”
“Ah. I see.”
The flat tone devoid of any emotion demanded my attention. Lacking a rock, I decided to show this bore his place using the sharp edge of my tongue.
“You probably couldn’t see something if it were on the tip of your nose,” I said. “Now, who are you?”
“That’s none of your concern.”
I snorted.
“As I would expect a person guilty of trespassing to say. Go away, fiend. Leave the king’s land while you still stand.”
He barked out a laugh.
“Are you always this abrasive?” he asked.
“When covered in mud and dealing with an overbearing—”
“Do not call me an ass again.”
“Wouldn’t think of it. Pig.”
His expression darkened.
“That’s not to your liking, either? As you’ve given me no other name to call you by, Officious Grunting Pig it shall be.” I smirked.
“You have a viper’s tongue.”
“And you have the slow wit of a cod fish. Lacking any decency, you’ve proven yourself to be beneath me.”
“Beneath you?”
“Please do try to keep up with this conversation. Or must I speak slower?”
Pink invaded his cheeks, and I knew I’d won this battle.
“You are most fortunate I’m a decent man, or I would see you beaten.”
I snorted.
“Any decent person would introduce himself. You started this by yelling in my face and tossing accusations about.”
His nostrils flared in his anger, but then, to my surprise, he bowed low.