Chapter 7 #2
I swallowed an immediate refusal. I hated the thought of my time with Lord Abnus being interrupted, but there was no way around it. Standing, I straightened, then buttoned my jacket.
“I understand.” Looking at Lord Abnus, I asked, “Will I see you at dinner or do you require rest after your journey?”
He was on his feet in a single, smooth motion that left my mouth oddly dry. “I wouldn’t miss it, Mr. Byrne.”
Sevrin hooked his arm around my shoulders. “I’ll see if I can convince Hester to seat the two of you beside each other, so you can continue whatever boring conversation you were having.”
I blushed. “It wasn’t boring.”
Lord Abnus didn’t bother to remark on Sevrin’s insult and replied, “That would be most appreciated.”
Sevrin smirked and dragged me away.
I stared at my reflection for the hundredth time, second-guessing the dinner jacket my valet had chosen as well as the simple knot he’d tied my cravat into.
Perhaps I needed something nicer to attract Lord Abnus’s gaze.
I shook my head. That was foolish. He knew what I looked like, and no matter how nice I dressed, it wouldn’t change his opinion.
Brushing my silky hair back into the current fashion, I frowned when white-blonde strands flopped in front of my face.
Not even my valet could tame my hair into doing what it was supposed to.
No matter the product worked into the strands, they would hang about my face in an undignified manner.
I’d thought about cutting it shorter, to the point it couldn’t hang in front of my face, but I quite liked my hair.
I fingered the soft strands before putting the matter out of my mind. My hair was what it was.
Now my clothes. I sighed, yanking on the jacket. It hung oddly off my small frame. It needed another fitting, or perhaps, I required a new jacket entirely, but I hated the tailor.
“You are being ridiculous,” I told my reflection.
Lord Abnus didn’t care about what I looked like, because he didn’t care for me in a romantic sense.
I turned from the mirror and slipped out my room and went to the downstairs parlor. Father and Mother were already there. The two of them sat right next to each other, talking in low voices on the far sofa. A blush burned on Mother’s cheeks, and she giggled, covering her mouth.
I was certain I’d never heard such a noise from her lips in my entire life.
Father rested a hand on her arm, his green eyes darkening as a warm smile pulled at his lips.
A distinctly uncomfortable sensation grew in my stomach, forcing me to avert my eyes.
I shouldn’t be witnessing whatever this moment was.
It felt private. I made my escape to the door I’d just entered, but it opened before I could slip out, and Nevan and Neil came in, making a considerable more amount of noise than I had.
Father and Mother broke apart—Mother’s cheeks were redder than before.
“Nevan. Neil,” she said, standing. “Lovely of you to join us.”
Nevan frowned. “It’s time for dinner.”
Neil glanced between Father and Mother, then at me. He wore a tight, distinctly disgusted expression that most likely mirrored mine. Whatever romantic entanglement was occurring between my parents wasn’t something I wanted to witness.
I sat in a chair across from my older brothers, silent, as we waited for the rest of the dinner guests to arrive.
Whit and Frances were next. Whit instantly struck up a conversation with Father regarding taxes or some such as Frances fretted with her lovely evening dress, complaining about the lace not quite lying correctly.
Lord Abnus arrived next, and I stood, smiling. Sevrin was beside him, but I didn’t pay him any attention, nor did I when Phineas entered moments later.
“Lord Abnus,” I said, bowing.
He returned the bowl, offering his arm. I slipped my hand into the crook of his elbow, and he led me toward the chair, then sat opposite. I wished we could sit side by side on a sofa, but it wasn’t seemly.
The door opened moments after we sat, and Thomas and Georgie entered.
“My apologies,” Georgie said. “Dara didn’t want us to leave.”
My nieces were too young to join us for family dinner. Pity. They would’ve been fun. Or at least, it might’ve made them become more accustomed to dark fae.
I shot a glance toward Frances to see how she was reacting to Lord Abnus’s presence, but she was steadily focused on her gown, continuing to smooth the lace accents while muttering about them.
The footman announced dinner, and Father held out an arm for Mother. I almost moved to stand behind them, but I caught myself at the last moment. I was no longer the heir. It had been three months, and yet I continued to find myself falling into the same routines of the past.
Now I entered the dining room last, because I was the youngest. Thomas extended an arm to Lord Abnus, because he was our guest and Thomas was the eldest.
“I would hate to deprive your spouse of your company,” Lord Abnus said, and I frowned. He’d never minded in the past when other married people escorted him to dinner.
Thomas glanced at me, and I was unsure why, unless he was hoping the same thing as me. Was Lord Abnus going to escort me? My eldest brother went a step further and said, “I’m sure Oren would be more than happy to escort you to dinner.”
Lord Abnus looked at me, and I flushed.
“I would be honored,” I replied, cheeks on fire.
My brothers all fell into line by twos, leaving me and Lord Abnus to bring up the rear. I extended my elbow, offering escort, though usually I was the one to grab onto other people. He didn’t hesitate to place his arm within my hold.
His hand rested on my jacket, and I wished that nothing separated our skin, not the sleeve of my jacket nor his black gloves. I wanted to feel the slight chill that emanated from his smooth skin against mine.
I shoved the inappropriate thoughts of him on top of me as his bare skin pressed against mine out of my mind and led him down the hall to the dining room.
A long table dominated the center of the room, and a chandelier, plus the candlesticks on the gleaming table, offered more than enough light to see by.
We each took our seats, leaving the head of the table, Aidan’s place, as well as the chair to the right empty.
Lord Abnus and I were indeed sitting next to each other, and Mother didn’t look perturbed by that fact.
Sevrin or one of my other brothers had probably arranged it beforehand with her, as promised.
Maybe one of them had told her Lord Abnus was single, nephew to the Night Court Queen, and Cethin’s cousin. He was the definition of desirable in a future spouse for me, though I doubted he could be persuaded into matrimony.
All through dinner, I barely spoke or paid attention to the conversations around me because all I could focus on was Lord Abnus.
Just Lord Abnus. The way his black hair glimmered in the candlelight.
The evenness of his expression as he spoke with my family.
The harsh planes of his face. The gray-purple of his skin.
The deep rumble of his voice. I liked it all.
When Mother stood, signifying dinner had ended, and invited everyone to the parlor for games, Lord Abnus excused himself. I watched him go, feeling his absence deep within my heart. I wanted to follow him, snagged his hand, and drag him into the library to continue our conversation, but I couldn’t.
A hand grasped my arm, and I jumped. Mother smiled at me, leading me from the dining room, away from the parlor, and toward the library.
“Mother?” I asked; it was as if she’d heard my thoughts. I’d planned to join my family for a time before I and the rest of my brothers secluded ourselves to the balcony off the family parlor, per tradition.
“I do not dislike Lord Abnus,” she said when the door swung closed behind us, assuring privacy.
“That’s good, since he is the representative for the Night Court. He will be here quite frequently to speak to Aidan as well as to visit his cousin.”
Mother gave me another smile, but this one had a tinge of sadness that wasn’t usually there. “You wear your heart for all to see, my son.”
I looked away, swallowing, as heat crowded my face.
“That’s not wrong, Oren, though perhaps a bit foolish. I know where your affection lies.”
“And you oppose it?” I asked, glaring at her and crossing my arms. I dared her to oppose it. Nothing was wrong with Lord Abnus holding my affections.
“It’s not that I oppose it,” Mother said, running her finger over the closest spines of the books neatly tucked upon the shelves.
“I want you and all your brothers to be happy. While you are the only child I bore, I think of them all as my own. When Thomas was forced to marry Georgie, I feared for him, but I truly thought they would find happiness, and they have. When Whit declared his love for Frances, I questioned the choice, but she made him smile after I’d thought we’d lost that forever.
“There was no stopping Aidan and Cethin,” she said with a wave, “even if I had been against it.”
“And me?”
“Lord Abnus is not a cruel man, that I’ve seen, and he does seem to have some sort of affection for you, Oren, but I don’t believe it’s the same regard you hold for him.”
I knew that to be true.
“He has a fated mate somewhere.”
I also knew that was true.
“If it was you,” Mother said, “he would’ve claimed you the instant he saw you, much as Cethin did with Aidan.”
“I know,” I whispered.
She stopped and faced me, cupping my cheeks. “I do not wish you to break your heart on a man who will never return the affection you hold for him.”
“So you wish me to marry Miss Quirke, my childhood friend, in whom I hold no interest.”
“You can be and have been attracted to women before.”
“It’s not her gender that has me lacking desire to be wed to her.”
Mother continued as if I hadn’t spoken, “She’ll be an excellent match for you. You’ve known her your entire life, Oren, and I believe you can be happy with her, if you allow yourself to be.”
I didn’t want Miss Quirke, as much as I enjoyed her company.
I wanted Lord Abnus, but everything Mother said was true.
He wasn’t going to be my future. Even if by some miracle, he saw me in a romantic way, our attachment would be temporary, perhaps nothing more than bedfellows passing the time. I didn’t want that.
I scoffed. I wanted what Aidan had. Not for the first time in my life, I was jealous of something my brother had.
Growing up, he’d possessed the freedom to choose as he desired, even if later we’d discovered that was nothing more than an illusion, and now he had the romantic relationship I’d always craved and he’d previously spurned as foolish.
Life was truly unfair.