Page 61 of A Pirate's Pleasure
“Just wait.”
“How long for?”
Zeph shot me a glare that said I asked way too many questions. I huddled into my cloak and watched him instead. He’d done everything he could to make himself look less piratical for our journey, like me on the ship, but in reverse, and it was odd to see him like that. I was yet to decide whether it was a good odd or a bad odd.
“It’s a big house,” Zephyr said, breaking into my reverie.
“It is. There are fifteen bedrooms in the main house.”
“The main house?”
I pointed toward a small annex at the side of the building. “The servant’s quarters are there.”
“Ah, yes, servants.”
“Don’t!”
Zephyr shot me the briefest of glances before returning to his study of the dark and empty building. “Don’t what?”
“You know what? You know exactly how you said it. Like having servants is some sort of crime.”
“It’s unnecessary.”
“I assure you it’s very necessary when you have fifteen bedrooms.”
If I’d thought Zephyr’s lapse into silence meant I’d won that argument, I should have known better. “Even Lucretius’ house only had seven or eight bedrooms.”
I stared at him, so aghast that for a moment words failed me. “Are you comparing me to a deranged harpy? And am I coming out of that comparison unfavorably? Because if so, you’ll find that even though I have fifteen bedrooms, I don’t have one spare for you, so I hope you’re ready to sleep in this bush.”
“Shhh… keep your voice down, Lief.”
“Keep my—“ A light came on in the house and I frowned. “Who’s that?”
“A servant?”
I shook my head. “Not at this time of night. There’s no reason for them to be in the main house.”
“Could they have gotten a little too comfortable in your absence?”
I tried to imagine it, but the picture didn’t fit. They were too staid. Too set in their ways. Too regimented about the boundaries that my uncle had put in place during his tenure. I’d spent years trying to get them to loosen up, to no avail. “No.”
“So, who?” Zephyr asked.
I stared at the light, my brain ticking over, but no answer was forthcoming. “I don’t know.”
“What room is that?”
“The library.”
“Does anyone else have a key to the house?”
I shifted position as cramp set in. “No.”
“No ex-lovers?”
“No.” My no this time was sharper, ex-lovers the last thing I wanted to talk to Zephyr about.
“So… whoever it is, can we agree that they’re up to no good and shouldn’t be here?” Zephyr waited for my nod. “In which case,” he said, “I suggest we find out who they are and what they think they’re doing.”