The Lighthouse Keeper by Liv Rancourt

Author:Liv Rancourt [Rancourt, Liv]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: m/m romance, gothic romance, victorian romance, lgbt romance, historical romance
Publisher: Liv Rancourt
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

The next morning, I woke with a gasp, sitting straight up in bed. Gulping air, I fought off memories of the dream.

I lost.

Rutger stared at me from some kind of container. It was tall and wide and made of glass, and it was filled with water. My friend beckoned me closer, his light hair floating around his head, his mouth moving as if he thought to warn me of something. He made no sound, only let out a stream of bubbles with each attempt.

I had to rescue him. That was plain. I spied a ladder leaning against the container and darted up it. But the higher I climbed, the taller the container became. At last I gave up, my heart full of despair. I found myself back on the ground and instead of Rutger, Rafe stood in the water. Tall and angular, he did not attempt to speak, and no bubbles came from either his mouth or nose. His eyes, though, were pools of shadow.

Dreaming about Rutger after kissing Rafe. I poked at my conscious but found no trace of guilt. Rutger and I were friends, companions. Rafe and I hadn’t declared even that much.

My friend and companion would not begrudge me last night’s kiss, though if he did, well, the problem would be his.

“Rafe!”

Della’s cry brought me out of bed. The cold floor burned against my bare feet, and though I wasn’t dressed, I opened the bedroom door. Sticking only my head through, I called to her. “What’s the matter? Do you need help?”

“It’s Rafe.” She stood near the front door, arms wrapped around her body as if protecting herself from something painful. “He’s not in the workshop and the tower light’s gone out.”

Margaret stumbled out of the room she shared with Della. Her hair hung over one shoulder in a long braid, and she knotted the tie of her corduroy dressing gown around her waist. “Where else might he be?” she asked.

Della glanced from me to Margaret and back again. “Martin must have him.”

Martin is dead, I wanted to shout. Controlling myself, I smiled in a way that I hoped would be comforting. “I’ll get dressed and help Margaret wind the light’s mechanism. After that, I’ll try to find the cavern Rafe made for Martin’s body.”

Della’s eyes widened. “You know where that is?”

“I do.” Although without Rafe to lead me, I stood a much better chance of getting lost in the woods than finding it again.

“Della and I can wind the light,” Margaret said. “You just look for Rafe.”

I agreed with her plan and closed my bedroom door. The memory of the Ferox Cor fighting its way into my body knocked the breath from me. Stifling the urge to scream, I put on the same trousers I’d taken off yesterday, figuring they were already soiled. My boots still had smudges of mud on the toes, but I put them on without bothering to clean them. I put on the same undershirt, forgoing even a clean collar.

And if my shirt still carried Rafe’s smoke and sage scent, I did not mind at all.

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