The Blood Spell (Ravenspire, #4)(29)
“But I didn’t feel lucky. I didn’t want time to heal anything. I just wanted him back. I still do. I always wished someone would’ve told me it was all right to scream and cry and be broken over the heartache of it all.” He turned to look at her, and her eyes were drawn to his. “So I’m going to tell you. It’s all right to miss your father, Blue. It’s all right to be angry that he’s gone when he shouldn’t be. You can fall apart for a little while if you need to. Nessa, your grand-mère, and I will be here to help pick up the pieces when you’re ready.”
She held his gaze for a long moment while her heart pounded and her knees shook. And then the hot, sharp thing that had been coiled inside her since the moment she’d pulled back the cloak to reveal Papa’s face broke loose, and she collapsed against him and sobbed.
He held her. Let her cry and didn’t tell her things would get better. Didn’t say that he was sorry or that everything happened as it was supposed to. He just held on tight and let himself be her anchor as the grief tore its way out of her, raw and angry.
And when she was spent and weariness swamped her, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her back through the crowd and into the little farmhouse, Nessa at his heels. They tucked her into her bed, and Nessa crawled up beside her, her skinny arms wrapped firmly around Blue’s waist.
Somewhere outside, the sea hawk cried, shrill and distant, and the crowd murmured while the iron bells brought to honor Papa chimed in the breeze, but inside Blue curled up beneath Grand-mère’s quilt with Nessa on one side, Pepperell on the other, and Kellan’s tall body folded up in her little desk chair as sleep took her.
TWELVE
THE DAY AFTER Papa’s funeral, Blue woke to the noise of knocking on the farmhouse’s front door. Stretching, she nudged Pepperell off her stomach as the sound of Grand-mère’s footsteps left the spare room, where she’d been staying, and headed downstairs.
Blue wasn’t sure when Nessa and Kellan had left. She’d awakened once well after sunset, and they were gone. It was strange that Kellan of all people had been the one person to see what she needed and give it to her. Or maybe not so strange since Kellan knew firsthand what it felt like to suddenly lose a father. Still, it was unsettling to realize she’d leaned on him so completely.
Before she could waste any more time thinking about Kellan, she sat up and tried to plan out her day. She needed to check on the shop, though the thought of retracing the route from the farmhouse to the Gaillard merchant district, passing by the place where Papa had been killed, made her feel shaky inside.
Still, she hadn’t been there for nearly a week, and she was sure orders were piling up. She had no other means to support herself, so letting those customers take their business elsewhere while she grieved wasn’t an option.
Grand-mère’s voice rose sharply, and Blue scrambled out of bed.
It didn’t take much to get Grand-mère riled up these days. She was furious over the death of her son-in-law and the hurt to her granddaughter, and anyone who caused her irritation was an easy target.
Yesterday, she’d snapped at the milkman and threatened to light his barns on fire. The day before, she’d insulted the magistrate’s intelligence because the woman had no leads on who had killed Papa. Blue had no idea which hapless townsperson was currently irritating Grand-mère, but it was best to get herself downstairs quickly and intervene before Grand-mère forgot her own rule against pulling out her wand and reminding others that she could do magic.
Throwing a simple white muslin dress over her head, she shoved her feet into a pair of shoes, ran a damp cloth over her face, and rushed for the stairs as the sound of Grand-mère’s wrath grew louder.
“This is preposterous, Nell, and you know it,” Grand-mère snapped.
Nell. Blue grabbed the railing and began her descent. What was the magistrate doing here? Had they found the killer?
Nell’s voice was a quiet murmur, quickly cut off by a vicious curse from Grand-mère.
“Over my dead body. The four of you can get right out of this house. Immediately.”
Blue reached the bottom of the stairs and hurried toward the sitting room near the front of the house.
“I’m sorry, Destri.” Nell’s voice was soft but firm as she spoke to Grand-mère. “It’s an official document. My hands are tied.”
“Well, mine aren’t.” Grand-mère reached for her sleeve as Blue rushed into the room and grabbed her arm, stopping her before she could pull the hazel-wood wand free.
“It’s all right, Grand-mère. Whatever this is, we’ll figure it out together,” Blue said as calmly as she could, a feat made difficult by the fact that it wasn’t just Nell standing in her sitting room. Dinah Chauveau, head of the Chauveau family, sat on her little couch, flanked by two girls around Blue’s age who looked remarkably like Dinah. Same pale-as-milk skin, sharp cheekbones, and long dark hair. The youngest had a smattering of freckles across her nose and gave Blue a sympathetic look. The oldest appeared bored.
Why would Lady Chauveau be in her sitting room? Was this another attempt to see if Blue and Papa had reported the fake gold? Or had she somehow found out about Blue’s magic? The thought sent a shiver of fear through Blue, and she clenched her fists to keep her hands from trembling.