I had been hoping to get some work done.
“Cell service is very spotty too,” he said, pointing down to my phone that only had one bar.
Well, shit. Maybe it was for the best, though. A few weekends of technological detox would do me a world of good, so I set my phone down on the desk, too.
Lucian gave me a quick tour of Ashgrove, passing by the many guest rooms the staff was airing out.
“Gabriel always brings so many college friends. And women. He always has to have a whole rotation because he gets bored so easily. You know how young people are.”
Did I?
But it didn’t matter. It wasn’t like I’d be seeing them much, the young people and I would be staying out of each other’s way.
Lucian also showed me the many pieces of priceless artwork on the walls, as well as a big library on the top floor with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and velvet-covered chairs to sit in.
“Come here anytime to work,” he said. “I want you to feel comfortable.”
Hand-in-hand, we went outside to carve the pumpkins, and spent the rest of the afternoon pleasantly together, creating a beautiful copy of Van Gogh’s Starry Night painting.
As twilight streaked across the sky, Lucian carved our initials into the back of the pumpkin and put a heart around them.
“Brother, I thoughtIwas the artistic one,” a warm voice said, and Lucian turned to introduce me to his brother Hemsworth.
Like Lucian, he was tall and handsome, but he had golden blonde hair and glasses. He was a well-known playwright and artist and in between productions, and I restrained myself with an effort from fan-girling over his latest play.
“Let’s go in to dinner,” Lucian said. “Gabriel will be late.”
A brisk wind pulled at me, and I suddenly shivered with chill.
The grounds of Ashgrove Manor did look creepier at night, as fog descended, rolling over the pond in a way that made the sharp rocks jut out in a strange and unsettling manner.
“What is it, Branby?” Hemsworth asked sharply as we entered the formal dining room. “What are all you servants whispering about over there? Come fill up my wine glass.”
His brother seemed to have a touchy artistic temperament, and I was just glad Lucian was so stable and gentle.
“My apologies, sir,” Branby said. “It’s just that they found another body.”
“Barbaric,” Hemsworth said, twisting up his aristocratic lips in disgust.
“Another?” Lucian asked. “How many is this now?”
“What’s going on?” I asked as I sat down at the table. “What do you mean they foundanotherbody?”
There was silence for a moment, and the staff disappeared back into the kitchens to bring out the first course.
“It’s not unusual,” Lucian said. “Foolish young people come into the country every weekend. Get drunk. Do foolish things like fall into pits or get lost in the woods.”
“How sad,” I said, taking a sip of my wine. “Perhaps they can cover up the pits or put markings on the trees, so people don’t get lost out there.”
Of course the wine was exquisite here, with a smoky grape and rich earthy flavor.
“There have been a few. . . unusual deaths recently,” Hemsworth said. “Some people think the deaths are connected. I do not. I think that’s just the rural tendency to superstition.”
“Animals,” Lucian said. “Perhaps it’s wild animals.”
But the brothers glanced at each other, and I could tell they didn’t want to frighten me.
Unnecessary, I thought irritably.As if I’m some delicate woman who can’t handle it.
