Shadows of Scandal (Guardians of the Bones) by K.J. Jackson

Author:K.J. Jackson [Jackson, K.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: AWD Publishing
Published: 2022-08-28T18:30:00+00:00

{ Chapter 16 }

Dusk had seeped onto the land, sending long shadows across the front of the white marble pavilion.

Jack studied the outside of the structure for a long moment from across the pond. Where was Willow the moment he had stepped onto the trail with Lady Toften to go back to the main house? He’d looked back for her, always needing to know where she was located. He’d done that since she’d told him the real reason she had hired him.

Hell, he’d done it before he knew the full of the mess she was in.

As he’d moved onto the trail, he’d been carrying four baskets that Lady Toften had piled into his arms, as most of the rest of the party was going to have a hard enough time walking in a straight line well enough to stumble back to the hall. Too much wine. Too much brandy.

Willow had been at the back of the group, talking with her aunt.

So where the deuce was she now?

He’d studied her the entire afternoon. Noting what she ate. Just little nibbles around the edges of cakes. Noting what she drank. Two glasses of wine. Nothing more. Not enough to get her foxed.

Certainly not enough to have her fall off at the rear of the party and get lost in the woods.

So where in the bloody hell was she?

He walked around the pond dotted with lily pads toward the pavilion, then ducked his head in through the middle arched opening, looking about. Nothing. He walked around the outside of the structure to search the rear of the building where it met with the surrounding forest.

No Willow.

She couldn’t be out in the woods again. Why would she be? He’d seen Fugal and both of his cousins walk into the hall with the rest of the guests. She hadn’t been cornered by one of them.

A frown creasing his face, he moved around to the front of the pavilion again, this time fully stepping into the structure, the cool air from the surrounding stones seeping into his skin. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the low light. Nothing.

A few rogue glasses. A broken bottle of wine on the floor. Nothing.

Except wait. There.

In the dark shadow under one of the red velvet-lined benches that dotted the edges of the rectangular building: a solid mass.

He stepped toward the bench, then dropped to balance on his heels in front of it, his gut dropping as the jasmine-lavender scent of her wafted into his nose.

The whole of her curled into a ball, facing away from him, hiding.

Hiding from everyone and everything.

Her form so tiny, so fragile, his chest twisted, his heart trying to beat but having a hard time keeping cadence.

“Willow?” He reached out and traced the tip of his forefinger along her spine.

Her body jerked, shrinking into an even smaller ball that shouldn’t have been possible.

Gently, his finger started at the base of her neck, rolling slowly down along the bumps of her spine. “Willow. I know it is you.

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