The Skylighter (The Keepers' Chronicles Book 2) Read Online Free Page A

you like to speak to him?
    Lord Dom, would you prefer to have the guest situated in the east wing or the west?
    Lord Dom, where should I put the cartload of pickled beets? In the cellar or the pantry?
    At first he redirected everyone to his mother, but when he realized how overwhelmed she was in Rafi’s absence, Dom tried to handle the requests himself. And was certain he’d done everything wrong.
    Come back soon, Rafi. I’m not capable of taking care of anyone but myself. He looked toward the Milners’ mango orchard, where a bare patch marked the spot where the Von Arlos’ wagons once stood. At this distance he couldn’t see anything besides a black smudge in the green canopy, but he knew the bones of the wagons were still there.
    Perhaps Michael had tried to go home?
    Dom turned toward the stairs and saw a hint of purple fabric sticking out from behind one of the chimneys. He wasn’t particularly observant, but that precise shade had been stretched over a body that was difficult to ignore.
    “You may as well come out, Lady Maribelle.” Dom stepped between the chimney and the roof’s exit, blocking off any escape attempt. “I know you’re hiding.”
    “I’m not hiding.” She straightened from a crouch, shaking out her silky black hair. “You seemed to be having a private moment, and I didn’t want to interrupt.”
    “Hmm.” Dom folded his arms across his chest and spread his feet wide. “For some reason I’m hesitant to believe you.”
    “Like you, I enjoy the view of Santiago,” she said as she stepped out of the narrow space, dragging several feet of skirt behind her. Her fashion selections were a topic of much conversation among the staff and nobles. Today her dress was decidedly bottom heavy, baring her clavicles and arms despite the slight chill in the air.
    Maribelle moved with a sway, shifting her hips from side to side as she circled toward the hatch.
    Dom wasn’t distracted by her curves or her ploy to slip past him, and kept himself between the lady and her escape. “I could take you to a few places that have excellent scenery.”
    “That would be lovely, my lord,” she said with a coy shrug.
    Neither of them moved, each waiting for the other to make an excuse to leave or to stay on the roof.
    I can play this game all day. Dom grinned at Maribelle without showing his teeth. “Since you were up here enjoying the view, you didn’t by chance notice Michael out on the grounds anywhere?”
    “I didn’t.” She moved one hand to her waist. “I’ve always found that haylofts are a perfect place to hide. Perhaps we should check there?”
    Brazen. I like that. “Sounds like an excellent plan.”
    “I’ll follow you down.”
    Dom held out his arm. “Let me escort you.”
    Maribelle’s smile faded. “Perhaps after lunch? I promised my ladies I’d join them.”
    Dom withheld one of a dozen caustic remarks about Maribelle and her two attendants. The women spent all their time strutting around the estate or fluttering to the township to gossip with every highborn and—if the rumors were true—some significantly less savory fellows.
    “Shall I call a maid and have the kitchen bring something up?”
    “I’m fine on my own.” She softened the edge to her words with a quick, “Thank you.”
    Dom knew he’d won. “How about you give me the message you’re so desperately trying to send to your father?”
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about, my lord.” She looked away, but her left hand twitched on her skirt. “Please excuse me.”
    He stepped to one side, nodding toward the stairway. Maribelle hesitated for a moment, her eyes flicking to the roost and back, then hurried toward the exit.
    As she passed, Dom snatched her wrist. She twisted away, hunching as if expecting a blow.
    “Please . . .” She raised her free arm to protect her head.
    Guilt nipped, and Dom loosened his grip. “I’m not going to hit you, Lady Maribelle,” he said in the gentlest voice he could