Chapter Three Wren #3
I lost sight of Ruby sometime around ten when she slipped away to the powder room.
With everyone murmuring my name, and with the horde of nobles glancing down their noses whenever I passed, I decided to sneak away to the Lovetts’ famous gardens. I couldn’t take the scrutiny anymore, and plants and flowers blessedly didn’t have the ability to glare.
On most days, I considered myself a fairly optimistic person—within reason—but…
it was too much. Those narrowed eyes. The disgust and confusion when they spoke my name alongside my family’s honored one.
Shamefully, my father was working the room to cast me in a better light, and falling short. And he was beloved.
It seemed that I’d ruined not only my life but his as well.
The Lovetts had commissioned a breathtaking fountain beyond the veranda, the size of it akin to the downstairs of my home.
Water spouted from spigots at timed intervals, and tiny lights turned the leaves a mellow sky-blue shade.
I sighed, striding over to one of the many benches positioned off the path where you could take in the view.
Rich green plants and blossoms curved around a cushioned eggshell-colored settee; a place lovers might find themselves on nights like this one.
I watched the cascade of water, losing myself in its soothing noise, numbly shoving aside the cruel world that awaited me inside the mansion.
Out here, in the quiet, I drifted, my thoughts turning less frantic, less anxious.
Clouds swept across the moon, and little light shone down from the heavens.
Surprisingly, I took comfort in the dark; it was where secrets could be shared…
though I felt like a secret I wished I had the answer to.
Soon, I promised. You’ll request an audience with the Fates tomorrow and—
“I can’t believe he brought her.”
I jerked upward from my relaxed position, the silence and peace I’d experienced forgotten. I recognized that voice. Unfortunately.
Lord Allen. He visited Father often, mostly protesting to keep the working class from entering our side of town to find work. Those living in the “Void”—the southern portion of Andalay I’d been forbidden to visit—didn’t possess gifts, and they relied on steady occupation to keep food on the table.
Yet Allen didn’t pay his employees a living wage, and I knew this because Father had drunkenly told me one evening.
My chest had ached when he spoke about the south as if it were a plague on the land, its people, too.
At times, I willingly played the fool when it came to Father and his dealings.
I hardly wanted to know if he was connected to such heinous people and their beliefs…
but the older I became, the harder it was to pretend Father was the same man I believed—or wanted—him to be.
“He’s trying to brush it off, Allen. What would you do if your daughter ruined your family line?” A scoff, and then, “She may not be as beautiful as her mother, but he could easily marry her off.”
I didn’t recognize the new voice, but his words heated my blood.
Warmth suffused my cheeks, and I clenched my hands into fists.
How many damned times did I need to be compared to her?
On top of that, all I was good for now was marriage; to be a wife and mother.
Not that they weren’t admirable jobs, but it wasn’t what I wanted.
I yearned to expose myself, to leap from my hidden alcove and confront Lord Allen and his lackey, and pray that their cheeks darkened with the embarrassment of being caught. My nails bit hard into my palms. I wouldn’t do a damned thing. I couldn’t.
My grief and rage grew as their heavy footsteps passed, and I curved to the side, half of my body practically shoved into the nearest bush to avoid detection. Very dignified of a lady, of course.
Soon my parents would search for me, which meant I had to once again lift my chin and smile, and gracefully walk past a bunch of snakes who scorned me for no righteous reason.
Get it over with.
The longer I sat here ruminating over my misfortune, the longer I’d have to stay at this hellish ball. Grumbling a curse, I rose and stepped beyond the alcove—
And immediately bumped into the rather hard chest of Lord Everett Sinclair.
Liquid spilled everywhere, wetting my skin as the scent of whiskey stole from the floral fragrance of the garden. Everett bit back an ungentlemanly curse and brushed at his fine sapphire velvet jacket before lifting his striking blue eyes to mine.
Fates.
“I’m so sorry!” I hurried to say, eager to avoid this interaction. Mother, on the other hand, would’ve been thrilled; well, not by my clumsiness. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.” Obviously.
Everett was three years my senior and quite handsome, one of the many suitors Mother had pointed out to me months prior. Her scheming would be all for naught after this little display. I hoped.
Everett swept a hand down his once-pristine white shirt, his stunning silver wristwatch catching the light of the weak moon, the mother-of-pearl face shimmering. Before he could speak, his mouth barely having opened, a waiter rushed by, a fresh towel hanging from his arm.
“Sir!” called the waiter, a towering man with unkempt black hair and the coldest gray eyes I’d ever beheld. “Let me assist you.”
Leave it to the Lovetts to arrange for waiters and assistants to be hidden in every nook and cranny.
I stepped aside as the waiter meticulously attended to the spill, mumbling apologies here and there, when really, it was me who’d caused the mess.
Everett shifted closer to the man as he awkwardly patted the waiter in what I took as gratitude.
But his eyes stared deeply into mine, making me adjust my footing while crossing and uncrossing my arms. I didn’t care for the attention, and certainly not the kind of attention he was so openly displaying.
I immediately began to formulate my excuses to leave.
Everett spoke first.
“Wren Hayes.” His voice was smooth like silk, and when my name sounded from his lips I understood why many found him alluring.
“I’ve been meaning to seek you out all evening, yet it seems you’ve been hiding out in the garden among the flowers.
Though you yourself are reminiscent of one tonight. ” The corners of his mouth quirked up.
I could’ve sworn I heard the waiter muffle a choked scoff. I resisted the urge to join him.
“I needed the fresh air,” I answered smoothly, ignoring the sickly-sweet compliment. All I desired was loose clothing and the comfort of my bed and my book—which had just gotten to the good part. “Perhaps at the next party we’ll meet and there will be more time.”
“But—”
“All done, my lord,” the overzealous waiter thankfully interrupted, stepping back with a curt nod. I looked at the waiter then, taking in the shadows that played across his sharp cheekbones and highlighted the corners of his full, curving lips.
“Thank you,” Everett said stiffly, not sparing a glance at the man who’d assisted him.
But I did.
I watched as he hurried down the pathway—in the opposite direction from the house.
“I was hoping for one dance, but I suppose I can be patient,” Everett said as he lifted his arm and ran his hand through his dark blond hair, a boyish smile playing on his lips.
My heart skipped a beat when I noticed it…or the lack of it.
His silver watch—
It was gone.
I whirled to where the waiter had taken off.
The man must’ve stolen it—he’d been all too quick to “help,” taking his time to run that cloth up and down Everett’s suit.
The slick bastard had pinched it right before our eyes.
I wasn’t sure what came over me; perhaps it was the need to escape or the heat building inside my chest, a small voice telling me to give chase—
I took off in the direction the waiter had taken, starting a jog that soon turned into a run. I was impervious to the fact that Everett called my name or that I sprinted through a garden in a ball gown—an act that would cause my mother to faint.
The gardens were vast, but I caught glimpses of black hair glimmering in low light just ahead of me beside a bed of yellow roses. The sight would vanish altogether a blink later. I frowned, confused, but kept racing forward, determined to retrieve Everett’s watch.
Soon the waiter’s silhouette came into full view, the end of the path nearing. A looming wrought iron fence surrounded the Lovetts’ land, with no gate in sight.
No escape, I pondered gleefully.
The man before me was quick, and each time I blinked, he seemed to flicker. It had to be a trick of the dark night. It didn’t matter. I was equally fast and more determined.
I was positive that Everett had the means to replace such a fine watch without issue, but I’d been beaten down so many times since my birthday that I needed a win. Something.
With the last of my waning strength, I lunged, colliding with the muscles and heat of the thief as I shoved him to the ground.
He let out a crude, accented curse as we rolled, me fighting to pin him down.
Most of my hair had fallen out of its updo, and I heard the harsh rips of my dress.
I didn’t care. I’d become some sort of vengeful warrior, someone I didn’t recognize…
but a thrill ran from the crown of my head to my toes.
We came to a halt, the waiter landing on top, his weight pressing me farther into the soil. Both of us panted, soaked in mud and plastered with dried leaves.
“What the fuck are you doing?” the thief barked, his dark eyes glinting with silver flecks and malice.
He stared down upon me with indignation, having the audacity to act affronted as he swiped his hair out of his face—which was more handsome than I wished to admit.
His bronze skin seemed to glow all on its own, and his cutting cheekbones were severe and dangerous; an invitation to temptation.
But it was those eyes that captured me…so cold, outlined in black—yet there were traces of light, like tiny stars dancing across his stony irises.
His attractive face would have no effect on me. Some of the most treacherous things in this world were disguised behind a mask of beauty.
My chest heaved as I met his trenchant gaze. I didn’t bend. I was a Hayes, after all.
“You stole his watch,” I accused, another thrill running down my back. “And I’m here to get it back.”
He scoffed before lowering himself to whisper in my ear, his heated breath causing me to shiver. Escape, my inner voice begged. I ignored it.
“Let’s see you take it from me.”