Whiskers and Wiles by Merry Farmer

Author:Merry Farmer [Farmer, Merry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-06-28T00:00:00+00:00

Eleven

He would protect Kat at all costs. Even though he was so furious with her that he was nearly beyond speech. Even though she had destroyed years of work and likely set the cause of unity back by a decade. Even though it might cost him his own life in the process. He would protect Kat, because the idea of failing to stand by her side in the moment when she needed him most was an even greater crime than anything she had committed.

But he was going to make her pay for her foolishness.

That is, if they were still alive come morning.

Part of him wanted to ask where they were being taken as they walked up the cold, winding staircase tucked away in Ryman House. The stone steps were worn from what was probably generations of servants or sinners being led to their doom or away from the mischief they’d caused. The tight space was lit with only small, flickering lamps that made it seem as though ghosts were laughing at them from the uneven stone walls as they continued up.

The staircase had probably been there as part of whatever, much older building Ryman House had been built on, and it had likely seen much worse than his and Kat’s walk of shame, but that didn’t stop Waldorf from feeling as though everything in his life was about to come to a head.

“There’s a door,” Kat’s tremulous voice said from just above him.

“It is where your superior awaits,” the man in black said behind him.

Waldorf swore he could see Kat’s throat constrict as she swallowed sickly, then said, “Should…should I knock?”

The man in black shook his head. “You are expected.”

He spoke in such a way that if Waldorf had been a lesser man, his bowels would have turned to jelly.

Kat nodded, then reached for the doorhandle. Waldorf suddenly wished he’d gone first so that he could make the gesture for her and prepare her for whatever was on the other side of the door.

Then again, Kat likely would not have appreciated him shielding her from something, and would have complained that just because she was a woman, it did not mean she was incapable of facing the executioner’s block.

That last, small thought had Waldorf’s mouth twitching with the shadow of a grin. Kat was indomitable when she wanted to be.

His fledgling smile vanished when Kat sucked in a breath, then pushed the door open.

The room at the top of the stairs was not at all what Waldorf expected. He’d expected some sort of medieval torture chamber, complete with flickering torches, instruments of pain, and a hooded executioner wielding an ax.

What he and Kat found was a well-appointed sitting room. It was, perhaps, decorated in an antique style, with tapestries hanging on the walls and a huge fireplace at the far end with a thick beam for a mantel. The chairs in the room were of a wide, medieval style as well, but the carpet covering the floor looked far more modern and as if it had been purchased from the orient.

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