Chapter 11: The Candles Can Wait

"No," Lucan said.

Roderick waited for him to finish blaming the housekeeper.

Lucan stood beside Winnie instead.

"She helped me return something I didn't want," he said.

The cousin's eyes moved from one of them to the other.

Agnes rose from her chair and stayed beside it, unsure which arrangement to approve.

I stood near Lucan without touching him.

He needed to do this without my hand guiding his.

I wanted to put it on his shoulder anyway.

"The village expects a certain standard," Roderick said.

"The village wanted to keep its hens," I replied.

He ignored me.

"You can't allow servants to decide how your house is received."

Winnie lifted her chin.

She had worked here long enough to know what defiance could cost.

Lucan looked at her before answering his cousin.

"I made the decision," he said.

"Speak to me about it."

There was no thunder or show of teeth.

He sounded entirely certain, defending his own act.

Roderick's expression sharpened.

"Then tell the village what you are," he said.

The room went unpleasantly quiet.

Lucan's fingers tightened against his side.

I saw the exact point where his courage met the thing he still couldn't say.

He had defended Winnie.

He hadn't defended the people who'd spent years being frightened of his name.

Both things were true, and I wouldn't make one cancel the other.

Elspeth came in carrying a tray of candles.

She checked them from the doorway and set the tray on the table.

"A proper display of menace requires twelve candles lit," Roderick said.

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