Everyone slowly filed out of the dining room, collecting their cloaks before leaving.
“That has to be the most fun I’ve had at one of these events in a long time,” Elson said as he stopped alongside Ferrin and Myriah. He clapped Ferrin on the shoulder. “You definitely know how to liven a party, my friend.”
“I’m glad I could entertain,” Ferrin said. He helped Myriah with her cloak and stepped out into the chilly evening air.
“Until next time.” Elson waved a hand over his shoulder as he headed down the path toward Pree Lane.
Ferrin grimaced. He wasn’t looking forward to their walk home or the scolding he was sure to receive on the way.
Chapter 4
SLEEP WAS A long time coming. Ferrin spent most of the evening pacing the floor of his smithy, trying to determine how he was going to meet his deadlines. The only choice he had was to prioritize the jobs and work night and day to see them completed.
Succumbing to his own lingering need for rest, he blew out the lamps in his shop and headed inside. He climbed the small staircase at the back of the front room and headed down the hall to his bedroom on the second floor.
Other than taking the time to pull off his boots, Ferrin didn’t bother with his clothes before he dropped onto the bed and closed his eyes. He could feel the tug and pull of the ropes beneath his mattress.
He had just drifted off to sleep when a knock on his door pulled him back awake. He lay there a moment in silence, making sure that what he’d heard hadn’t been a lingering figment of whatever dream he had been dragged from. The door to his bedroom squeaked and Ferrin reached for the dagger under his pillow before spinning to the edge of the bed.
Myriah was holding a small candle as she stuck her head in. “Ferrin, I think someone’s at the door.”
“Yeah . . . you, apparently. Unless I’m still dreaming.”
“Not this door, nincompoop. The front door.”
Ferrin shook the cobwebs from his mind and quietly listened. Three knocks in fast succession had him pulling on his boots and heading for the door. He tucked the dagger into the back of his pants on his way down the staircase. His sister was right behind him with the candle holder. Who could be calling on them at this time of night?
Ferrin made his way to the front window and peeked between the closed shutters. There was a man and a woman. He thought he recognized the woman as one of Lord Resdin’s maids. “I think they’re here for you, Myriah. It looks like a couple of Resdin’s staff.”
Ferrin opened the door. The taller gentleman, who appeared to be dressed like a member of the butlery, bowed. “Master Ferrin, my name is Bogs and this is Florin. We would ask that we speak with Miss—”
“Bogs? Florin?” Myriah pushed Ferrin out of the way to get to the door. “What’s wrong? Has something happened to Lord or Lady Resdin?”
“No, Miss Myriah, they are fine, but—”
Myriah laid a hand on Bogs’s sleeve. “Then it’s the children?” Ferrin could hear the panic growing in his sister’s voice. “Has something happen to the children? Are they not well?”
“They are fine, Miss Myriah,” the tall butler said as he patted her hand in a comforting manner. “Be assured they are in good health, but Lord Resdin was called away quite suddenly, and our mistress’s nerves are so on end that she’s afraid she will be unable to tend to the children. She requested that we summon you immediately.”
Ferrin snorted. If there was one thing he couldn’t stand, it was how lethargic the nobility were when it came to doing anything except spending gold. They were little more than infants themselves. They had to have someone there to bathe them, to dress them, to feed them, and burp them. It was disgusting.
“Of course, of course. You did the right thing.” Myriah opened the door the rest of the way and gestured for the two shivering servants to come inside. “Bogs, you shouldn’t have let Florin out on a night like this.”
“She wouldn’t be budged, Miss. You know how she gets when she sets her mind to something.”
Myriah smiled. “Warm yourselves by the fire while I gather a few things.”
Ferrin shut the door behind them and gestured toward the fireplace on the other side of the room. There were still a few flames crackling away as they worked to turn the last few pieces of wood into a pile of ash and coals.
“It’s a fine place you have here, Master Ferrin,” the older man said as he took a quick look around while warming his hands. “I hope to have a place of my own like this one day.”
Florin glanced at the butler with fondness. “Yes, having something you can call your own is truly a great blessing indeed.”
“It is,” Ferrin said as he lit a candle from the glowing embers and placed it on a nearby table. He rested his arm on the back of Myriah’s favorite seat, a small settee she used for reading in the early mornings. “We’ve had some fond memories here.”
Florin smiled. “And hopefully many more to come.”
The creak of the stairs announced Myriah’s presence. “I believe I have everything,” she said, hauling a large carry bag down the last couple of steps.
“Here, I’ll get it.” Ferrin lifted the overly stuffed satchel and followed her to the door. “How long will you be away?”
Myriah looked at Bogs, who answered with a shrug.
“I guess as long as necessary,” she said. “Will you be all right without me?” She chuckled. “Well, of course we know you won’t be all right. You’d be lost without me. Just promise me you won’t get into trouble while I’m away.” Her eyes narrowed. “I think you know what I’m referring to.”
He sighed and leaned over to give her a hug.
She kissed him on the cheek. “There’s leftovers in the parlor, and don’t forget we have that extra side of pork in the cellar. You can cook that up if I’m not back in the next day or two.” She took a moment to glance around the front room. “And don’t burn the place down while I’m gone.”
Ferrin all but pushed her out the door. “I’ll do my best.” He toted her bag to the carriage, which was waiting to take them to the other side of the city, where Lord Resdin kept his estate. Myriah gave him a warm smile as he helped her up into the wagon. She was quick to crawl under the comforter Bogs held out for her.
Ferrin spared a glance at the driver. The poor man looked half-frozen. If he’d known the man was sitting out here, he would have offered him a hot drink or something. There wasn’t much he could do about it now. Stepping back, he waved as the driver’s whip urged the two horses into motion. Ferrin watched as the carriage shrank into the distance and disappeared from view.
He took a deep breath and slowly released, letting the warm air mist into the moonlit sky overhead. He shivered. “Why am I standing out here in the cold when I’ve got a warm bed waiting on me?” Ferrin turned and walked back inside, shutting the door behind him. After dousing the candle on the table, he took the one his sister had been carrying and headed for the staircase. He noticed Myriah had forgotten her book. It was still sitting on her seat, along with her shawl. She was going to be upset about that. He left it there and started up the stairs.
He had barely made it to the top landing when there was another knock on the front door. He smiled as he headed back down the stairs, grabbing her book on the way. His hand was halfway to the latch when the hinges shattered, and the door caught him square in the face.
Chapter 5
FERRIN WAS THROWN from his feet.
He landed on his back with what was left of the front door on top of him. He couldn’t breathe.
“Collar him!”