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I reached inside my coat. “Devere—”
“Mr. Barella,” he corrected.
I lifted my chin and stared the man in the eyes, where my thoughts stalled, each tripping over the last. His eyes had the same shimmer as butterfly wings, and for a few seconds, I fell into their thrall.
He blinked, breaking our gaze, and glanced at where my hand remained inside my coat.
Yes. My work. Of course.I’d been staring like a fool. It had been a long time since I’d admired a man so, yet not long enough. Clearing my throat, I removed a handwritten envelope from inside my coat pocket and placed it on the countertop. “Do you know what this is, Mr. Barella?”
He raised his gaze and peered through his lashes. “What brought you back to Minerva, Valentine?”
To a town I thought I’d escaped. “Mr. Anzio,” I corrected. He’d made it clear we weren’t on a first-name basis. “Lord Rochefort hired me.”
Devere straightened. “He’s paying you?”
“I certainly do not work for free.” I flashed a smile, but it wilted under Devere’s glare. He likely did not get along with the lord, and that wasn’t about to improve considering the letter’s contents.
Devere’s gaze hardened and the man’s demeanor changed from frosty to outright glacial. “Get out.”
The demand rocked me back a few steps. “Devere—Mr. Barella.”
His nostrils flared and fury burned in those pretty eyes.
I lifted my hands. “My departure will not change that letter, nor will it bring your father back from the dead.” Perhaps this could have gone better, although I struggled to see how. Devere had been hostile from the moment I’d arrived. “Your store is on Rochefort land, as is all of Minerva, and unless you pay the monies owed, you will be evicted and your store closed.”
The fury in his gaze turned to the same ice as the rest of him. He didn’t breathe, didn’t blink. “You didn’t need to be paid to tell me this. You’d have done so for free.”
“Whatever my reasons—”
“You haven’t changed. Not in fifteen years. You remain the same small-minded, vicious boy who kicked me in the dirt and spat in my face.” Devere scooped up the letter and threw it at my chest, unopened.
I caught it, then raised my gaze to peer down the sights of a pistol.
“Leave, or by whatever God you pray to, I will make you.”
I lifted my hands again. He wouldn’t shoot… although the cold clarity in his gaze suggested I may have underestimated him. “That you would pull a gun on an unarmed man suggests you haven’t changed either, Devere.”
He cocked the hammer. “If you visit my store again, I will not hesitate to pull this trigger.”
I tugged my coat closed and lifted my chin. “Very well. Good evening, Mr. Barella. It certainly has not been a pleasure.” Turning on my heel, I strode toward the door, fairly certain he wouldn’t shoot a man in the back. “Despite what you think, I had no wish to come here and certainly never wanted to see you again. But few can argue with fate, Devere, and it will surely take your father’s store if you allow it.”
I flung the eviction notice to the floor and slammed the door behind me.
Bitter winter air tightened my chest and nipped at my face. My heart thumped. I huffed, trying to calm myself. It wasn’t the first time I’d had a pistol pointed at my face, and it likely wouldn’t be the last. But to stare down a barrel, to face one’s fate, still rattled a man.
Snow flurried around fogged streetlamps. A carriage rumbled by, its wheels and the clomp of hooves muffled by slushy snow.
I’d been back in Minerva a day, and already it had been a day too long. Unfortunately, I couldn’t leave, not until payment was made and the job was done. Clearly, Devere was not going to make my return to this God-awful town any easier. I tugged my gloves on tighter, flicked my collar up, and hurried toward the southernmost part of town, and my room at the Lost Penny Inn.
Perhaps tomorrow would fare better.
Although, knowing this town as I used to, most days got much worse.
ChapterTwo
The carriageI rode in was so cushioned from the outside world that I barely felt the wheels bump along the rough country road. Early morning sunlight, dappled by naked trees, streamed in through small fogged windows. My second day back in my hometown, and I planned to make it more successful than the first, beginning with a meeting with Lord Rochefort.
Rochefort Manor had been built near the top of a hill overlooking the valley in which Minerva was cradled. Rumor had it the house had been built in that very spot so every window in Minerva could admire it. I wasn’t sure that was true, but the views from the long, sweeping driveway were certainly remarkable. Mist had pooled in the valley, obscuring much of the town, and from above, it looked as though all the houses had drowned beneath a silvery lake.
