I stayed looking out at the darkened countryside while Blackbird inspected the room. Our clothes had been carefully hung up in separate wardrobes and our personal belongings sequestered in chests and drawers. Someone had done our moving in for us.
I felt Blackbird's hand on my back, stroking softly downwards. "The important thing is that you haven't lost her."
"I haven't got her back, either."
"You will."
"Yes. I will."
"Want a bath? I could do with it. We both smell of smoke."
"OK. You go ahead."
"It's big enough for two."
I turned and there was a hesitancy there. I thought about what she had said while we sat on the sofa, about pushing her away and keeping her at a distance. I wondered how much she was hurt by that.
"Is it big enough for three?" I asked.
There was just a hint of a smile as she stroked her hand down over her tummy. "He doesn't mind sharing."
We ran a deep bath with lots of bubbles and sank into the water, filling the bathroom with steam. The warmth of the water eased my tired muscles and I was able to relax a little for the first time since the news about Alex. Closing my eyes, I found myself going through what had happened again in my head, until Blackbird leaned forward and took a scoop of bubbles, clapping her hands together in front of my nose so that they exploded in my face.
I spluttered, wiping away the foam.
"You're doing it again," she said.
"Right," I said. "In that case…" I caught her foot from under the water and tickled her toes as she splashed and wriggled, persisting until she begged for mercy, claiming that I would make the baby ticklish. We called a peace and she soaped my back and then I hers. Finally she got out and sat on the stool to get dry. I washed my hair to rid myself of the last of the smoky taint then pulled the drain plug.
Once dry I took the body butter that I had bought in a moment of paternal inspiration and rubbed it into her stretched belly, smoothing it over her pale skin and easing it into the stretch marks. The baby liked this as he moved around at first and then settled, letting Blackbird relax under my hand.
I was only allowed to put the balm away after I had massaged it into her feet and hands as well and then rubbed her back and shoulders.
"I should make you do that every day. It was wonderful."
"I live to serve, Mistress," I told her.
She punched me gently in the buttock, but some of the tiredness had gone out of her and I began to wonder if I should do exactly that.
"I'll go see if I can rustle us up something to eat," I told her.
I opened the bathroom door, then closed it again as I realised that our needs had been anticipated again. There was a young woman standing in our room with a trolley. I grabbed a towelling robe from the back of the door and wrapped it quickly around me, then slipped through the gap where Blackbird was still naked behind me.
"Good evening. My name's Angela. Mullbrook sends his compliments and asks if you would like wine with your meal, or water, or something else perhaps?"
She was dressed in austere white cotton, her doublebreasted top buttoned up around her neck and an apron around her waist.
"Just water, if that's OK?"
"I'll leave you both still and sparkling."
She had already set out plates, cutlery and glasses. She took bowls and dishes from the trolley and set them out in measured symmetry while I wondered whether I should be giving her a tip. She saved a metal cover until last, lifting it with a flourish, revealing a bowl of lamb chops, long bones arrayed to form a many-pointed star. My mouth watered as the smell of rosemary and garlic reached me.
"I'll leave you to enjoy your meal. Leave the trolley outside the door when you have finished, if that's convenient for you."
"Of course." I echoed her words.
She bowed and reversed to the door, shutting it almost silently behind her.
"Can I come out?" It was Blackbird, peeping from the bathroom door. "You pinched my robe."
"She's gone now. Dinner's here."
"How long was she here?"
"Long enough to hear you trying to drown me in the bath, I think. We'll be the scandal of the lower stairs." I slipped the robe from my shoulders and eased her into it so that she could sit at the table and eat. I grabbed some clean pants and a shirt and joined her at the table.
"Would Madame like sparkling or still?"
"Don't. If they hear you they might be offended and I can't bear the thought of tripe."
I poured her still water as I knew the sparkling would give her gripes. Almost everything gave her gripes. That didn't stop her tucking into the chops though. She had stripped two down to the bones by the time I sat down.
"I could get used to this lifestyle, having people wash, cook and clean for me," I told her.
"You don't get much privacy, though, do you? Everyone's sifting through your smalls."
"It's a small price to pay for this sort of comfort."
"It'll make you lazy and fat. You don't want to be a lard tub, do you?"
"I don't think Garvin will allow that to happen." I had put on weight since starting Garvin's regime, but none of it was fat.
We settled into gentle conversation, avoiding the events of the day. The food was delicious, the chops still pink in the middle and complemented by crispy roast potatoes and steamed sugar snap peas. I ate sparingly, but Blackbird was apparently famished.
"Don't you like them?" Blackbird nodded to the remaining chops.
"I'm just tired. It's been a strange day."
She reached forward for another chop.
"You'll be complaining of heartburn in the night."
She retracted her hand, settling for sucking her fingers. "You're right. I won't sleep if I eat too much. Being pregnant makes me greedy."
I smiled at her, remembering the months when she had barely eaten and the very smell of cooked food had her running for a bucket.
We re-stacked the trolley and I left it outside the door. Then we went to bed, Blackbird curled under my arm, the bump resting against my hip. We were both tired and she was quickly asleep. I lay in the dark, the sound of her restful breathing easing my heart if not my mind. Once again, I found myself going back through the events of the past days, trying to figure out what I could have done. I thought about how they had misled me without lying to me, turned aside my demands for information with platitudes. Garvin was right, they knew what they were doing. They must have realised that if Alex was part fey then there was a chance that either Katherine or I was too. They had been ready and they had planned well.
What if they thought Katherine was fey too? They knew I had tried to contact Alex and would assume that she had gained her fey heritage from me, but that didn't mean Katherine wasn't fey too. They would look for signs in both parents, and while they were hunting for me, they would be watching her. Should I warn her? If I did, I would have to explain everything, just when she was starting to trust me again. It would be my fault that Alex had inherited fey blood and all the old wounds would reopen. If I didn't warn her, she would continue to act naturally and normally and they would leave her alone. It was probably better not to bring attention to her, but my conscience still pricked me with guilt. I was shying away from the real problem, which was telling Katherine the truth. I told myself it was for the best.
I thought of my daughter and where she might be. I thought of reaching out through the mirror in the room and searching for her, but I had promised not to. I would do as Garvin said and learn what I could about my daughter's kidnappers before I tested myself against them again. With that thought I drifted finally into sleep.
I knew it was a dream immediately. I had been here before. I shouldn't be here, though. The person who had brought me to this frozen glade was dead, killed by Blackbird's hand. The crisp pine needles, stiff with frost, crunched under my bare feet. The tree branches draped, the long needles dragging across my naked skin as I brushed past them. I knew where this path led.