A Touch Unexpected

28. Courtyard Rendezvous

Cheers erupted from beyond the hedges as Rosalind paced about the courtyard.

Jonathan cared for her as she cared for him. She was certain of that now. It was as she’d hoped, to the extent she had allowed herself to, that is. So why then did she still feel tethered to uncertainty? Why couldn’t she shake the vestige of apprehension lurking in the shadows of her joy?

Because Jonathan wasn’t just Jonathan; he was also Chancellor of Denault. He was, as Ilora pointed out, a pragmatic man after all. For him to entertain the possibility of her as anything more than a friend would be unwise. He held one of the most prominent positions in the country, and if tonight was any indication, he intended to upend the status quo. To do that, he would need a partner—an ally—by his side. Someone who could help him achieve all that he hoped to accomplish. The last thing he needed was someone who would complicate things. And she was undoubtedly a complicated thing. She was forever bound to magic, both in the literal sense and in the eyes of high society. Though she was no longer enchanted, those who knew her past would never forget what she was and treat her accordingly.

Thoughts of magic reminded Rosalind of the bracelets Ilora had gifted her. She was keen to try them on, but that meant removing her gloves. This proved next to impossible as the fussy buttons kept slipping from her gloved fingers before she could unclasp them. All manner of indecent curses spilled from her mouth as she attempted to undo them. She had half a mind to tear them right off when a voice spoke out.

“Would you like help with that?”

She looked up to see Jonathan across the way, standing at the edge of the towering hedges that opened up into the moonlit courtyard as if waiting for her to invite him inside.

“Yes, please.”

She focused on steadying her breath as he approached. When he stopped in front of her, she held out her hand to him, her inner wrist facing upward to reveal a row of four delicate buttons.

Rosalind tried not to react to his fingers brushing against the thin fabric as he set to work. She watched as he finessed his way down the line of buttons, undoing one and then another.

Once he’d finished unclasping the buttons, he took hold of her wrist with one hand and tugged at the fingertips of her glove with the other. His thumb pressed lightly against the veins of her wrist, and Rosalind wondered if he could feel her pulse racing underneath.

Jonathan pulled off the first glove and tucked it into his breast pocket. Then he took her other hand and started on its buttons.

“I like when you wear your hair down,” he said softly, drawing their shared silence to a close.

Rosalind’s face warmed at the compliment. “Thank you. I hadn’t intended to wear it down, but I’m absolutely hopeless when it comes to doing anything more than a simple plait. I usually ask Val for help, but, well, as you know, she was preoccupied. This is all I could manage on my own.” The words escaped her in a hurried flurry. “Lucky for me, the weather’s been kind and my hair has been cooperating. I doubt you’d be so kind if it was any more humid.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry, I can’t seem to stop myself from prattling on. ”

“There’s no need to apologize,” Jonathan said. “I enjoy listening to the sound of your voice and watching the way your mouth moves when you speak. I like learning more about you, however trite you think the details may be. So, please say whatever comes to mind. Speak until you can no longer and know I’ll delight in every word.”

It was like she’d gotten the wind knocked out of her; she could hardly breathe. There was nothing she could say that could compare to such a lovely sentiment, and so she said nothing.

“There,” he said as he pulled off her other glove and slipped it into his pocket to join the other. She hadn’t even noticed him working on it.

Rosalind reached into her pocket, pulled out the bracelets Ilora had gifted her, and proceeded to cuff one onto each wrist. She peered down at her hands, half expecting to see some indication they were working. There was nothing. Ilora mentioned they would conceal the presence of magic within her, but exactly how she wasn’t sure. What if they mimicked her enchantment? Acted as a sort of barrier against touch so no one could feel her and vice versa?

“What’s wrong?”

She looked up at Jonathan to find him watching her. “It’s nothing. It’s only, I can’t tell if they’re working. I also can’t help but wonder if…” Her voice dropped into a whisper. “What if they make it so I can’t feel anything?”

“I can’t be of much help with the whole magic bit, but I can aid in answering your question. May I?”

Rosalind nodded, and Jonathan took hold of her hand. Right away, she was relieved to feel the warmth of his hand against hers.

“Can you feel this?” he asked as he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it.

Rosalind’s heart skipped a beat. She nodded—it was all she could do to answer him .

He turned her hand so that her palm faced upward and placed a tender kiss on her inner wrist. “And this?”

Rosalind swallowed. “Y-yes,” she breathed.

“Good,” he said softly, and for a long moment, silence lingered as they held each other’s gaze.

“Jonathan, I—”

At the same time, Jonathan began, “Ros, let—”

Both quieted as soon as they heard the other speak.

“Ladies first,” Jonathan offered.

Rosalind took a deep breath and tried again. “I wanted to apologize for avoiding you earlier this evening.”

“You were avoiding me? I hadn’t noticed.” The knowing look in his eyes said otherwise.

Her hands bunched at the fabrics of her skirt as she pressed on. “It was cowardly of me, I know, but I wasn’t certain how I’d react upon seeing you. I’ve never been very good at hiding how I feel…”

Jonathan let out the softest breath of a laugh. “No, I’m afraid not. Not in all the time I’ve known you.”

“Yes, well then, as you may have gathered, I failed to keep the promise I made you—to want for nothing more between us. Truth be told, I'm not certain I ever really stood a chance,” she admitted, her eyes avoiding his as she spoke.

She opened her mouth to continue, but her words were stilled by the lump of nerves caught in her throat. She shut her mouth, willed the nerves back down to the pit of her stomach, and tried again.

“When you’re near, I can’t help but feel drawn to you. I itch to be near you, to feel your warmth if only for a moment.” Rosalind sucked in a shaky breath and kept on. “I want you to look at me that little while longer even though I can hardly bear it, let alone meet your eye. And I find myself wishing to be privy to all of your secrets, not only the one we shared. For every bit of hope I had that you might feel the same, I tempered it with reasons to doubt it could ever be true. Perhaps I mistook your kindness for affection. Or worse, I imagined more than was ever really there.” She faltered. When rumors of your engagement spread, I feared I couldn’t face you without betraying my true feelings. You are one of my dearest friends, and I wish only to celebrate your happiness in whatever form that takes. If she was the one you wished to marry, I wanted nothing more than to be happy for you. But I couldn't be sure my disappointment wouldn’t show, so I thought it best to stay away."

Rosalind fell quiet. Right about now, she expected to feel a familiar twitch in her legs. The one that begged her to run. But it never came. As anxious as she was to hear what he had to say, there was nowhere else she’d rather be.

“I’m so sorry, Ros,” Jonathan began. "I hadn’t meant to leave you in limbo while I was away. To think this could have been avoided if I hadn't waited. If I had been honest with you that night in Ashwind. I knew I was in trouble the moment you asked if I wanted you to stay. I knew if I went through with it, that would be it. There would be no coming back—not for me."

Was that why he seemed hesitant? She remembered all too clearly the moment she thought he was going to walk out the door, only for him to embrace her seconds later.

“I should have said as much then,” Jonathan said, “but I didn’t have the words. That and, well”—he rubbed at the back of his neck, looking rather sheepish—“admittedly, my mouth had other priorities at the moment, talking not being one of them…”

He cleared his throat before starting again. “Please know I had every intention of respecting our bargain. Truly, I did. It’s not as if I’m wholly unversed in the way of dalliances, and it sounded like a good idea at the time. You see, you’d taken up residence in my mind since the moment I returned to Brighthall. I believed one night with you would be sufficient to quell my curiosity. ”

Jonathan shook his head, smiling to himself. “But I was wrong. It only fueled my thoughts of you. I tried to ignore them by focusing on preparations for Ashwind. And I was successful, for a time. But then there you were. In Ashwind. With me. It was nearly impossible to get you off my mind with you right there, looking lovely as ever and soothing my ego with your sweet reassurances that all would be well. I tried to remain affable, but I only have so much self-discipline. I couldn’t help but steal from you what I could—a smile, a glance, a touch. Anything to get by.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I sound like little more than a lecher, don't I? This is precisely why I thought it best to write things down.”

Jonathan patted at various pockets on his person, then his hand slid beneath the lapel of his jacket and brandished a folded-up piece of paper.

“Are those notes?” Rosalind asked.

“Might be,” he replied as his eyes scanned the page.

Curious to see what he’d written, she craned her neck to glimpse its contents. Before she could glean anything, Jonathan lifted it just out of reach above them. Rosalind narrowed her eyes at him, but her feigned ire cracked as soon as he flashed her a smug grin.

“I don’t think so, love. I suppose you could try to jump for it, but I think we both know it'll be in vain. So how about I just tell you instead, hmm?"

Rosalind leaned back on her heels and waited with barely contained anticipation as he folded the paper back up and tucked it back into the inside pocket of his jacket. Then he reached out and took her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers, and held her gaze.

“From here on out, you will no longer be able to doubt my affections for you. I adore you, Rosalind. Not a day goes by when I don’t think about you. Indeed, you consume my every spare thought, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. ”

Rosalind’s heart stuttered in her chest, and for a fleeting moment, she wasn’t sure it’d start up again. Never had sweeter words been spoken to her.

“I’ve devoted so much of my life to the chancellorship, and I can’t help but wonder if I’ll lose myself to it entirely,” Jonathan professed. “Sometimes I feel as if I might drown with the weight of it all—the expectations others have of me, of those I place upon myself. Worse still is the fear I might succumb to the motivations that have tempted so many before me. But I feel none of this when I am near you. Time spent with you is like wading into calm waters. All of the pressures and pretenses of the day wash away and I just get to be. My sole duty in those precious moments is to make you happy.”

If ever Rosalind was inclined to swoon, it was now.

“I want more of that. More of you, Ros. I want to come home to you, to seek respite in your company. I want the privilege of falling asleep next to you in the evening and waking up beside you come morning.”

Jonathan squeezed her hand, and she wasn’t sure if it was for her sake or his. “I know it’s selfish of me to ask this of you. To ask that you consider me, knowing full well a part of me is promised to another—to Denault. To choose me would mean subjecting yourself to my world and the people within it, good and bad. There would be no knowing who to trust. Prying eyes would follow your every move and you would never again know a moment of peace in public.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I know I’m not the easy choice. But if you gave me a chance, I would do everything in my power to shield you from the worst of it. I would carve out a place just for us, and I promise I’d make it worth your time.”

Jonathan lifted his hand to her cheek and brought his forehead to rest against hers. He released a shallow sigh, and then, in a voice so utterly raw it made her eyes burn, he confessed, “I'm yours if you'll have me. But if you wish only to remain friends, I shall readily oblige, for I would rather have some of you than none at all.”

Rosalind shut her eyes to let her other senses take him in. The scent of his cologne confirmed he was close. The warmth of skin assured her she wasn’t dreaming. And the sound of his breathing reminded her that all of this had been real.

He was right to think the idea of being with him terrified her. She had already faced her share of unbidden looks, courtesy of the enchantment; how much more if she walked out on his arm? No doubt, her days as a wallflower at society events would be a thing of the past. Then, of course, there would be the inevitable dissent of those like Lord and Lady DuPont to contend with.

But none of that terrified her as much as the thought of never knowing. Never knowing what it would be like to be his, to call him hers. That was a regret she couldn’t live with.

“Jonathan, my answer is yes. I would weather it all for more of this. More of you.”

At this, Jonathan drew back just enough to meet her gaze. He studied her face as if seeking some sort of confirmation.

“But,” she intoned, a part of her reluctant to continue, “I’m not sure you’ve considered what associating with me in such a way might do to your reputation.”

Jonathan didn’t waste a second in answering. “Ros, we’ve known each other for, what, sixteen years? In that time, I’ve never shied away from associating with you, and my reputation is doing just fine. Besides, if anyone is going to put it at risk, it’s DuPont, given what played out this evening. And that was a mess of my own making. One I’ll be attempting to rectify for quite some time. But it was well worth it, as are you.”

She eyed him skeptically. “Alright, but what about my”—her voice dropped into a whisper—“you know…” She eyed her hands and wriggled her fingers in demonstration .

“Your hands? Trust me, I’ve spent plenty of time thinking about them and what I’d like to do with—”

Rosalind swatted at his arm. “That’s not what I meant!”

“Oh, you mean the bit about you being a potent source of magic,” he replied, careful to keep his voice down. “Yes, well, I admit I was more than a little concerned when Sylvan explained it to me. But with help from him and Enzo, I intend to implement every precaution imaginable. Those bracelets, for starters. And it’s not as if I’d let just anyone lay their hands on you.” He crossed his arms. “Speaking of which, how is it you ended up dancing with Marcus Trainor, of all people this evening?”

“He didn’t give me much of a choice…”

Jonathan’s eyes narrowed. “He didn’t try anything untoward, did he?”

“No, not exactly, but…”

“But what?”

She hesitated. “He sort of proposed to me.”

Jonathan visibly stiffened. “I’m sorry, I must have misheard you,” he said calmly, though the strain in his jaw suggested he was anything but. “I thought you said he proposed to you. As in—”

“Proposed is perhaps too generous a word,” Rosalind hurried to explain. “More like he disparaged me and then strongly advised that I take his offer as it would be the best I could ever hope to receive. This is, of course, all in a desperate effort to get closer to you.”

“I see. And you told him he could fuck right off, yes?”

Rosalind’s brows shot up at his bluntness. “Well, actually… yes.” It wasn’t often she could say that.

The peevish expression on Jonathan’s face was both amusing and endearing. Rosalind couldn’t possibly pass up the opportunity to tease him; she so rarely had the chance.

She tapped a finger to her lips in mock contemplation. “But I wonder, might my decision have been too rash? His offer came with a cottage in the countryside, you know. Perhaps I should’ve given it a bit more thought…”

The corner of Jonathan’s mouth quirked up. “I’ll give you something to think about,” he remarked in a tone so suggestive it made Rosalind’s toes curl. Then he pulled her in close and captured her lips with his.

She clung to the lapels of his jacket as they kissed away the last remnants of longing. When their lungs could bear it no longer, their kisses slowed to stolen pecks between labored breaths.

“Let’s sneak away,” he murmured against her lips. “Leave the party to everyone else and lock ourselves in my room until morning.”

“I think you’d be missed,” Rosalind replied, though she was sorely tempted.

Jonathan sighed before reluctantly pulling away. “Fine. I suppose I can manage for a few more hours…” He straightened his attire and smoothed out his hair. Then he helped Rosalind do the same. When they were both ready, he held out his arm. “Shall we?”

Rosalind folded her arm in his, and the pair started toward the maze leading out of the courtyard. Her steps slowed as music and laughter sounded from beyond the imposing hedges. She told Jonathan she’d weather it all—the stares, the whispers, the aftermath that would surely follow—but did it have to be so soon?

“I don’t know about you, but I’m in no rush to have others be privy to our personal matters,” Jonathan explained. “Perhaps we could let it be our little secret for a while longer?”

Rosalind bit back a smile, knowing full well he was saying that for her sake. “I would like that very much. Thank you.”

“Val will know, of course,” he said as they started into the maze.

“Could say she knew the whole time.”

Jonathan chuckled. “Quite right. There’s also Ilora and Padraic. And Enzo, by extension. ”

“It could prove challenging to keep it from the rest of the household,” Rosalind noted. “Charlene is a bit of a gossip.”

“Louis and Maria should be able to help in that regard. If anyone can incentivize her to keep quiet, it’ll be Maria. Oh, by the way, I’m fairly certain they know.”

“What makes you think that?”

Jonathan shrugged. “Call it intuition. That and”—he reached into another one of his jacket pockets—“I found this tucked neatly into the drawer of my bedside table after Maria made up my room.” From his fingers dangled a single luminescent pearl earring.

“I’ve been looking for that!”

“I’ve been holding onto it for safekeeping. I can’t believe you misplaced my gift the very evening I gave it to you and said nothing of it.”

Rosalind blushed. “Well, I wasn’t ready to call it lost yet. I knew it had to be around here somewhere…”

“Ah, see, that’s where we differ. I’m much quicker to declare something lost. For instance, I can say with near certainty that you’ll lose something else in my room later this evening.”

“What?”

He shot her a rakish grin. “That dress, for starters.”

Reluctantly, at the end of the maze, Rosalind and Jonathan untangled their arms from one another. Not far ahead of their path stood Valentina, who made little attempt to conceal the fact that she had been waiting for them. She surveyed them briefly, and whatever she saw was enough to satisfy her. With a little clap of her hands, she hurried over to Rosalind’s free side and latched on to her arm.

“So, are you two engaged then?” she asked excitedly.

“Come now, Val. I know better than to press my luck too far in one night. ”

Rosalind nearly tripped over her feet at the ease with which Jonathan replied as if the idea wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.

“That and I refuse to be her second proposal of the evening,” he added irritably.

Valentina gasped. “So that’s what Lady DuPont was referring to?”

Rosalind nodded grimly.

“Oh, this I have to hear more about,” said an all too eager Valentina.

“And I’ll tell you, I promise. But I’ll need a hefty glass of wine in my hand when I do.”

“We can make that happen. But first, I have to introduce you to Enzo.” She leaned in to whisper. “They’re even more stunning up close.”

Rosalind followed Valentina’s gaze to where a small cluster of people stood not far away. She wasn’t surprised to see Ilora, Padraic, and the Prince, but she hadn’t expected to see the duo who accompanied them.

“I didn’t know the Keeper and Mr. Raynor were here.”

“Both have been advising us on how best to expand trade routes within the borderlands, so I thought it good to invite them,” Jonathan explained. “Sylvan has also lent me a few texts on wielding. Understandably, he isn’t keen to part with them, so I asked them to stay until I finished making notes.”

“Between the Ashwinders, the Masons, and Prince Innocenzo, Brighthall has its hands full with houseguests for the next few days. As such, your room has been temporarily forfeited,” Valentina told Rosalind. “Figured you wouldn’t have much trouble finding somewhere else to sleep.”

She must have been awfully confident things would work out the way they had, seeing as she’d offered up Rosalind’s room before the evening transpired .

“Out of curiosity, who is taking my room?”

“Sylvan, I believe,” Jonathan replied. He met Rosalind’s gaze, and the two shared a knowing look.

As they approached the group, Rosalind noted Keeper Saintgarden’s simple but sleek navy gown with black piping along the hem. Unsurprisingly, Sylvan was dressed in black from head to toe. His hair was tied back neatly, and upon closer inspection, she realized he was wearing a coat with tails. That, she hadn’t expected.

“Mr. Raynor cleans up quite well,” Rosalind observed, glancing sideways at her friend.

“Does he now? I hardly noticed,” Valentina said a little too casually.

Rosalind bit back a laugh. If this was how she acted around Jonathan, it was little wonder those around her had read her like a book.

Rosalind sat atop the plush rug of the drawing room floor in the early hours of the morning. She leaned back against the bottom of the settee with her legs tucked underneath her, basking in the warmth of the hearth. Jonathan was beside her on the rug, one knee bent and the other extended in front of him, looking thoroughly at ease. At some point, he had removed his jacket and loosened the collar of his shirt. He was in the midst of a lively conversation with Padraic and Enzo, both of whom were seated on the settee behind them. As he spoke, his fingers danced with hers, their interlocked hands tucked between them, hidden from sight.

Rosalind glanced around. Louis, Maria, and the rest of the household staff had retired to their rooms as soon as the ball’s last guest left the building, exhausted after the long day. Only a handful of people remained awake, and they were all in this very room. Among them was Ilora, who had settled on the settee next to her brother. She was leaning forward, her chin resting on her hand as she listened intently to Keeper Saintgarden, who sat across from her in one of the paisley armchairs.

Valentina had also opted for a seat on the rug. She sat opposite Rosalind, and they spent much of the evening chatting with one another. Right now, however, Valentina’s focus was on the man beside her, or rather, the sheathed dagger in his hand. One of Sylvan’s arms rested on his knee as the other held out the dagger's hilt for Valentina to take. He yanked it out of reach just before she got a hand on it, not unlike he had done that night in Ashwind, the last time everyone in this room was together. Though Rosalind couldn’t hear exactly what was being said, she guessed he was warning her to be careful. The rolling of Valentina’s eyes confirmed as much. Sylvan was right to be cautious— Valentina with a weapon was equally fearsome and terrifying.

Rosalind smiled to herself. Never in her wildest dreams could she have imagined a moment like this. It was absurd, really. Unexpected, to say the least. Here she was, watching her dearest friend flirt with a wielder in a room full of not one but two Chancellors, a borderlands Keeper, and an Erdesian Prince. Perhaps most incredible of all was how at ease she felt among them. There was no urge to slink away, no notion that she didn’t belong. She didn’t have to conceal what she was or pretend to be something she wasn’t.

A gentle squeeze of her hand turned her attention to Jonathan. His eyes searched hers in silent inquiry. She assured him all was well with an almost imperceptible nod. He raised her hand to his mouth and pressed a tender, unabashed kiss to the top of it. All the magic in the world couldn’t temper the unbridled smile that unfurled across Rosalind’s lips. She hadn’t known it was possible to be so thoroughly, indisputably, and wondrously content.