You Are Mine (Mine #1)(66)

I bite my lip and stare at the pen a moment before picking it up. It's light between my fingers. It's metal feels cool even through my gloves. I glance at the unmarked book. My pulse increases. I've not ventured into the book room again, but I've read the book I stole until I've memorized it. I'd really like another.

With my free hand, I grab the new book. Is it some sort of extension to the Woman's Canon? I've never heard of one. But what else would she be permitted to keep in her room? She did have a pen here as well so perhaps it's something different. I want it to be something different. With a peek to make sure Cynthia isn't watching, I flip the cover open.





To my dearest Julia,

I give you this gift with the hopes it will help heal your heartache. No matter what they say, you are the perfect woman for me.

Faithfully Yours,

Jacob





Not related to the Woman's Canon. My fingers shake as I trace the words and read it again. It stirs something within me. Something deep and abiding. I turn the page. Inside it's lined and filled with a flowing script. Did she write this herself? I know how to read, but I've never written anything. I sit on the bed as I read of her heartache over not having children and her love for her husband.

“What's that?”

I snap the book closed and throw it on the table. How could I be so careless? “The usual.”

“I thought you hated reading the Woman's Canon.” Cynthia heads for the door. I sigh, grateful she didn't realize it was something different. “There's nothing here that will work.”

It takes me a moment to remember what she's speaking of. I don't feel like searching the house more, instead I want to read more of Julia's words. When Cynthia's out of view, I grab the book and hide it in my blouse, thankful I'm wearing a loose one today.

I glance down. A little squarish around my stomach, but hopefully she won't notice. I think of a way to get this hidden in my room and follow her out.

“Maybe we should go order things,” I say. “Even if we find something large enough, he really could use more than that.”

“I'm sure if we keep looking, we'll find something here though.”

“What if we ordered the things and looked when we returned? That way, the furniture would be on its way sooner, but if there's something, he'd be able to use it in the meantime.”

“Can we take the carriage into town today?”

“You're asking if we can go without a chaperon?”

She bites her lower lip. “Only if Bethany doesn't want to come. She said she had some things she wanted to talk over with Waverly today, so I suspect it won't be a problem.”

The fact that she doesn't want to take Bethany is a relief. I can't forget she's a spy. I should be better around Cynthia, but she knows I've been out on my own. With all the time she's spent with Zade, I doubt she really believes he's suddenly trying to be harder on me anyway. “I suppose it'd be fine, as long as we don't go anywhere besides the wood worker.”

“Let's go then. We can't have the Master of the house uncomfortable.”

“You really want to go out of the house without a warlock to chaperon?”

“Well, Zade isn't here and it needs done. Nothing's happened to you yet.”

“Your first unchaperoned outing. I'll hold this memory forever.”

I laugh. She goes on ahead to call for a carriage while I hide Julia's journal in my room to peruse later. Hopefully, Waverly won't find it while she's cleaning.





Chapter Twenty-Seven





Several days later, Zade corners me on my way out from sneaking a snack in the kitchen. Thankfully Phyllis wasn't there, but she may have been a better choice than him. His face is stern, not a hint of lightness in his eyes. Did he find out we were in his room? Is he angry we went to town and ordered things without him?

“Today, you're going to use a gun.”

Not problems with the furniture then. I'm not sure this is any better though. “I don't know if that's a good idea.”

“You'll learn to use a revolver.”

The air is sucked from me. He's never forced me to do anything. I hate the change so much, I'm willing to risk contradicting him. Once I've gotten a hold of myself, I say, “I don't care what the law says, women don't touch them.”

“Most don't live with a man who has a price on his head.”

He has a good point, but is such a drastic action needed? He leans against the wall next to me. Our arms brush. A tingle rushes through me.

“How seriously are they trying to harm you?”

“The intruder in your room was the first attempt. I finally caught up with him. Seems someone mixed up our rooms. He's taken care of now.”

Taken care of? I shiver. “First attempt? Don't evade me this time, how many more have there been?”

“Enough that you need to protect yourself.”

Still evading, but it sounds bad. I clench my jaw. I don't want anything to happen to him. I want to do this, but it's hard to ask. “Will more kissing help?”

He pinks and shrugs.

My chest stings at the rejection. “Is there anything I can do?”