Devil’s Cove (Tortured Souls) by R.C. Matthews Read Free Book Online

heinous deeds in his lifetime. The erratic vibes emitting from him confirmed it, and her sixth sense had warned her of it the moment he’d entered the tavern. However, hadn’t he also risked his life for her? No. Not for her. He had his own agenda, and defending her against those horrible men was a means to an end for Captain Limmerick. She would do well to remember that.
    “Your presence is most welcome,” Grace said. “Were you not frightened to come live at the manor?”
    “Not with you here. I’ve seen you do amazing things with your powers. If I feel safe around anyone, it’s you.” A giggle erupted from Emma, and she whispered, “You’ll not believe how much he is paying me. The offer couldn’t have come at a better time. Father’s cough grows worse by the day, and the cost of his tonic is burdensome. But I’m hopeful.”
    “My lips are sealed,” Grace said, pulling out of Emma’s embrace. “And I’m so pleased you’re here with me. Isn’t it wonderful, Brother?”
    “Yes, child,” he said, guiding her to a chair near the fire. “Come. Let’s have a sip of tea, and perhaps a scone.”
    She smiled and settled into the comfortable chair, relaxing on the firm cushion beneath her bottom and the plush pillows nestled against her lower back. At the age of three and twenty, Grace was no longer a child. But Brother Anselm was like a father to her, so she forgave him for the continued use of the endearment.
    Tea splashed into the porcelain cups, and she was calmed by the familiar sound of a spoon clinking against the sides. She held out her hands in anticipation of the warm brew.
    “Would you care for a nip of something to ease your sleep, Grace?” Emma called.
    Grace was not in the habit of imbibing, but her nerves were on edge and it would do her good. “Yes, please.”
    “What is that you’re putting in Grace’s tea?” Brother Anselm asked, a slight edge of reproof lacing his words. The gentle padding of his feet on the wood floor forewarned Grace that he’d gone to investigate, ever the watchful caregiver.
    He disapproved of spirits, at least the liquid kind.
    “Just a little something to calm the nerves and to help Grace with a restful night’s sleep,” Emma replied. “Don’t scowl at me like that, Brother. You know I would never harm her.”
    A light crack rent the air, and Grace hid her smile behind her hand. Only Emma dared to slap away Brother Anselm’s hands.
    “Forgive me,” he said. “But it’s highly unusual. I’ve never seen a ring with a hidden compartment for storing spirits. With such a small dose, it can hardly do Grace harm. Very well, but where did you get that ring?”
    Emma grabbed Grace’s hand and wrapped it around the handle of a teacup. “Never mind, and you needn’t bother asking, because it isn’t for sale. I know you and your love for trinkets.”
    A few seconds later she returned, setting a plate on the table next to Grace. The clatter of the dish on the wood top, along with the dull pitch, alerted Grace to the fact that it contained food.
    “Raspberry scones,” Emma said. “One of your favorites. I told Cook this morning, and she whipped up a batch. She’s thrilled to have you here to—” She quieted for a moment. “Well, you know what? Enough of that for now. Have a bite to eat and drink your tea.”
    “Thank you, Emma,” Grace said, reaching for a scone. She bit into the buttery confection and sighed as it melted on her tongue. “It’s delicious.”
    Brother Anselm must’ve settled back into his chair and found a scone or two of his own, because Grace could hear his little moans of pleasure as he ate. It was a ritual with him, the grunts and groans that accompanied meals. She had thought his habit came out of a need to fill the silence between them in the early days after her father dropped her at the priory, leaving her forever in Brother Anselm’s care. But now she believed it simply a part of who he was, an endearing part that