A Matter of Circumstance and Celludrones by Claire Robyns

Author:Claire Robyns [Robyns, Claire]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, romance, Science Fiction, cookie429, Kat, Extratorrents
ISBN: 9781479388929
Publisher: Claire Robyns
Published: 2012-09-24T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Evelyn was determined to pack as much into the remainder of the day as she could fit, starting with a steaming bath.

Anything to keep her husband out of her head and numb the sting to her heart. She’d always believed she could take on anything the world threw at her, but this time there were too many conflicting emotions she didn’t know what to do with.

The embarrassment of being dragged away from her friends and bundled into a carriage like a misbehaving child!

The fury at having her explanations and imploring treated with icy disdain and contempt, as if she weren’t worthy of having a mind of her own.

The hollow, empty throb that had taken its first beat the moment she’d realised Devon was serious about that ultimatum—that he could so easily give her up over a difference of opinion as to her hobby choices—and seemed to be spreading a circle of aching loneliness with every subsequent beat.

The guilt that came on in a blaze of heat whenever she thought on the way she’d left without so much as a personal note, and that just made her madder.

The senseless hope that he’d somehow trace her whereabouts and come after her (this was Devon, after all, his resources were vast), which was indeed senseless, as she’d refuse to be dragged home even if he did.

All she could do was push back against the oppressive weight bearing down on her. Evelyn liked to think that almost anything could be achieved with enough practice, and so she’d just keep on smiling and acting as if she didn’t give a flottersnip about her bloody husband and maybe, just maybe, one day it would be true.

Forleough, however, conspired against her immediate wishes. The antiquated bathing chamber was a barren room of stone floor, oval cast-iron tub and no piped-in water, hot or cold. Not to be so easily thwarted, she tucked Puppy’s little body under her arm and set off in search of hot water.

“No wonder this castle is so gloomy,” she told him as she descended the dimly lit stairway, her voice and the echo of her footsteps the only noise in the entire house. “I’d also be miserable if I didn’t have adequate bathing facilities.”

Yap.

She held the furry bundle up to her face. “Yes, you agree, don’t you?”

Yap, yap, yap.

He then attempted to run circles in mid-air, mindless that he wasn’t getting anywhere or that his mechanics, both movement and sound, was supposed to be activated and controlled by very specific oral commands only.

Yap, yap.

“You’re not broken, are you?” she sighed, tucking him firmly beneath her arm again. “You’re just different and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.”

Yap.

The kitchen was down a further half-flight of steps at the rear of the house, closed off by a sturdy oak door. Inside, she found Jean and a younger girl engaged in preparations for what appeared to be a mutton stew to feed a king’s party.

Two enormous black kettle pots steamed and hissed on top of an iron range fed from a coal burner.

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