Chapter 106
Kit swallowed hard, forcing her eyes to leave the word and travel to Eli’s face. He was standing on the side of the fireplace, looking at her, his expression a mixture of regret, sorrow, anxiety, and perhaps a tinge of relief at finally having his secret revealed. Kit said nothing, only waited, certain an explanation would come.
Eli ran the tip of his tongue along his bottom lip and thought for a moment before he finally said, “I wanted to tell you, but I wasn’t allowed to. I’m still not allowed to. If your mother finds out that you know, particularly that I’m the one who told you, she will find a way to end me. You should know that. You can’t tell anyone I’m letting you know, Kit. No one. Not even Cassius.”
Kit’s head bobbed up and down, and for a moment she thought it odd that Cassius of all people had become her greatest confident, not Avinia or Isla. But then, she had stolen his horse, so perhaps there was logic behind it.
“Let me start the fire, and then I’ll explain more.”
She nodded, still unmoving, and he went about doing what he’d said. She was amazed that the fireplace even worked, that there was dry timber stacked nearby, but she assumed that would be part of his explanation.
Once the fire was blazing, he grabbed one of the blankets off of the bed and crossed over to her. “You’re wet. You need to dry your gown.”
There was no need to protest as another fit of sneezing reminded her that he was correct. Once she was finished, she managed to say, “Will you unhook me?”
His eyes enlarged for a moment, but then he nodded, recognizing that it would be difficult for her to do it on her own as all the latches were in back of her. She took the blanket, and he walked behind her, pausing for a moment before he slowly began to unhook each of the eyelets down the back of her dress.
She’d imagined him undressing her more times than she could possibly count, and though it had never been under these circumstances, it didn’t change the fact that each flicker of his fingertips grazing her skin, the scent of him standing so close to her, the feel of his breath on her neck, had her senses heightened. Kit closed her eyes, fighting the urge to lean back into his body. As much as she wanted him, she also needed to hear the story of this house, his house, so the burning between her legs would have to wait a bit longer.
Her gown puddled on the floor at her feet, and Kit slid the sleeves off of each arm, shifting the blanket to do so. Standing in front of him with only her undergarments on seemed as natural as anything. She turned her head slowly, and her cheek brushed the bristly whiskers of his chin.
Eli inhaled next to her ear, inhaled her, and for a moment, she wanted to devour his lips with hers and let the tale wait for later, but he stepped back out of her reach, saying, “I believe your chemise is dry enough.”
Reality came back to her, and she took the blanket, wrapping it over her shoulders as she stepped out of her gown. Eli immediately picked it up. He stepped over to one of the chairs from the table and carried it over to the fireplace, setting it near enough that the heat would reach her gown but it wouldn’t burn, and he draped the garment over the back of it.
Kit settled into one of the plush seats and removed her bootlets. Riding boots would’ve been a much better idea. Her stockings were soaked, and she went about setting them on the hearth before she realized Eli had taken off his boots, jerkin, and tunic and his trousers were falling away, leaving him only in his thin breeches.
She’d seen him without his shirt more times than she could count, but it hadn’t been recent, and he’d filled out even more. As he turned back to look at her, a questioning, yet humorous, expression on his face, she felt her cheeks color. Her eyes drifted down his chiseled chest to his abdomen which could’ve been a sculpture as it rippled in perfection down to the V shape that disappeared below the top of his breeches, a small tuft of dark hair enticed her eyes to drop even lower, which she fought momentarily before giving in. It seemed he must’ve been having similar thoughts about her as it was obvious from even this far across a shadowed room he was aroused.
Despite the fact that she wanted to tumble into the bed with him straightaway, he knew she wanted answers, so he picked up the remaining blanket from the bed and crossed to the fireplace, setting his clothing near to dry before taking a seat in the other padded chair across from her. He draped the blanket across his lap, leaving his chest exposed, and Kit hoped his story was a good one or else she’d never catch a word of it.
The cushion of the chair sank a bit beneath his weight, telling its age more so than his girth, as she imagined he didn’t weigh half of what Cassius did. Eli settled into it, his hands resting on his knees, and took a moment to compose himself while the fireplace crackled and Kit finally started to feel her toes dry out.
His green eyes were thoughtful when he finally started to speak. “As you have likely inferred, this is my family home. I was born here, upstairs. In the large bedroom with the fireplace.”
Kit nodded, though she hadn’t been sure about all of that. For all she knew, this house had been abandoned by his grandparents or other family members. She said nothing, though, only waited.
“The fire happened when I was four.” He ran a hand through his damp hair, sending small drops of water in every direction. “It was a horrible accident, one I don’t like to speak about, which is one of the reasons I’ve never told you any of this.”
Her mother was the other reason; Kit knew that without him saying so. “If you don’t want to speak of it now....”
“No, it’s all right. I’d rather say it all now and have it out than let questions linger.” He readjusted, leaning back in the seat so that a shadow covered much of his face, but Kit could still hear him, particularly the sadness in his voice when he said, “My mother was lighting a lamp. She went to place it on the mantel, and it toppled over. It spilled oil all over her face... which then ignited.”
Kit’s hands immediately flew to her mouth. “Oh, my.... How awful.”
“It was terrible. My father rushed in to try to help her, but in the meantime, the fire spread so that by the time my mother’s gown and hair were no longer on fire, the house was ablaze. The servants rushed me and my sister outside, and eventually my father managed to carry out my mother, but she was badly burned. The entire left side of her face was nearly gone, and she was in horrific pain.”
Tears filled Kit’s eyes as she realized she couldn’t blame him for not wanting to tell such an horrendous story. “Did the servants manage to put the fire out?”
“They tried, but a rainstorm seemed to come out of nowhere, and most of the flames were licked out by that. We huddled in the barn, and my father did what he could to try to ease my mother’s agony, but she was screaming, crying, begging him to end her so that she wouldn’t have to endure it anymore. I remember my sister’s arm around me as we sat in the corner and wept, and I prayed to every goddess I could think of that they’d help my mother.”
Kit was aware that his mother was still alive, so she knew somehow she’d gotten through it, though she couldn’t imagine how. A log in the fireplace shifted, sending a spark of ash in her direction. It burned for a moment before falling to the floor, and Eli continued.
“With little other choice, my father rode to the castle, praying your mother would allow the Royal Physician, which was Mikali at the time, to come to our home and treat his wife. He knew it was a longshot. For reasons I am certain you are unaware of, the queen hated my father, even back then.”
Shaking her head, Kit said, “While I know that to be true, I have no idea why.”
He sighed and leaned forward again. “Yet another story I’ve been forbidden to tell you. At any rate, your mother finally allowed Mikali to come and help my mother on the condition that my father return to the castle immediately thereafter and become a stable hand. My parents would have to give up all of their lands, all of their holdings, except the small family home further into Eastbury which my mother had inherited from her mother, and my mother and sister were to relocate there. For the rest of his life, my father would have to serve your mother in the most unbecoming position imaginable, not as a horse trainer but as an aged stable boy. Our home and all of our lands transferred to the crown, and we were no longer nobility.” His tone was bitter, as could be expected, but it was all full of grief, and Kit wished she were sitting closer so she could place her hands on him, to comfort him.
“He did it, then, I suppose?”
He nodded. She knew he had to have. When Kit was born, his father was already working at the stable. She didn’t meet Eli until she was two or three, though. “Did you come with him?”
“I did. Your mother said she wanted his son to grow up shoveling manure.”












