"Lady Beatrix," Lord Malachi Ravenscroft's voice sliced through the tension in the dining room like a blade. "Your hospitality leaves much to be desired."
I fought to maintain my composure as he strode toward me, his tall frame imposing and his dark eyes glittering with malice. Behind him, Jasper still clutched the tray with the poisoned brandy, his face a mask of uncertainty.
"Lord Ravenscroft," I managed, forcing a cold smile. "How... unexpected. I was just preparing to join you in the parlor."
"I'm not a man who enjoys being kept waiting," he replied, pulling out a chair across from me and sitting without invitation. He glanced at Jasper. "Well? Are you going to pour that brandy or simply stand there gawking?"
Jasper looked to me for direction. I gave him the slightest nod, and he approached with careful steps, setting down the tray.
"My apologies for the intrusion, my lord," Jasper said, his voice remarkably steady as he poured the poisoned brandy into a crystal glass.
