FOREVER KNIGHTS: #6 Malevolent Attentions
Someone That Evil

“Would you be interested in breakfast?” Sabine offered.

“I am quite content with tea.”

“But I am hungry.”

“Then we will certainly eat together.” They rose and went to the dining room to peer under silver covers at an assortment of minced ham and bacon and grits and a sparse supply of eggs.

“Apparently my father has already partaken.”

“Fortunate for us.” LauraBeth snorted. Distaste apparent.

Just then Lord Delacroix entered. Without offering any semblance of greeting he made his way to the port on the corner table.

The ladies took their seat and proceeded to pretend to be deeply engaged in conversation, but Sabine watched him fumbling with the decanter. She blew a heavy breath.

The decanter slid from his shaking grip as if pulled down. He loosed a tirade of expletives as he slammed it back on the table.

“Is there a window open?” He demanded as he turned. Focusing his bleary gaze on them. Sabine shrugged.

“Did you see that?” LauraBeth asked. “The way it rattled in his grip.”

“No.”

He reached again, and the bottle dodged his hand and slid furtively about before tumbling from the tabletop entirely.

He shoved his fists in his eyes to rub them. Turning a circle to see what wind moved it. “There must be an open window.”

Sabine refocused on her friend a smile teasing her lips.

Lord Delacroix leaned over and collected the decanter to pour himself a hefty glass.

Her head turned to watch him as disgust wrote over her face. “Perhaps you should slow your consumption father.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t speak. If I wanted to hear the grating voice of a woman I’d have wed after your mother died. I raised my daughter to be silent and keep her dull thoughts to herself.”

“Did you raise me?” Sabine scoffed. “Could’ve fooled me!”

The scullery maids and the cook had taught her to prepare meals before her father had driven them all off. Now they had a new cook, but she refused to leave the kitchen due to the Lord of the house.

Filling his glass again, he stormed from the dining room.

“Has he even slept?” LauraBeth sneered. “He looks like he has worn those clothes for days! And he’s no right to speak to you thus!”

“He’s nasty when embibing.” Sabine said dispassionately. “I long ago grew accustomed to his fits. Please disregard his rudeness.”

“Does he hurt you?” LauraBeth asked in a worried voice.

“No!” Sabine assured sincerely. “He says cruel things, but he’d never lift a hand to me. And I no longer care what he says. It’s usually the drink speaking in his stead.”

“I suppose he can barely walk, so why would his words be of any consequence?” LauraBeth’s tone was hateful. “He should’ve taken better care of you. It shouldn’t have fallen to the servants to teach you.”

“I’m fine, LauraBeth. Please don’t worry yourself.”

Lord Delacroix stalked back into the room as though looking for something. Blinking heavily, he wandered to the table and sat. Peering at the dishes as though reluctant to see breakfast. Peeking at minced ham he choked a little and belched before retreating from the room.

The ladies completed their meal in peace.

“You deserve better.” LauraBeth mentioned as she picked at meat on her trencher. “Now, on to more riveting things. Tell me of your phantom. What’s so strange in what he said?”

“What wasn’t?”

“Do tell.”