Chapter 11
Elise walked around the city with the haste one might reserve for claiming an inheritance.
Spring had brought longer days, but dusk was finally settling over the skies.
She was eager to return to Morgaine and change this dress, which seemed to grow tighter by the minute.
She kept a small hope that men of low refinement might keep their intentions private and that no one would dare disturb her passage.
She was, however, fully prepared if a lout or rascal attempted an acquaintance, murmuring the chant every few steps, just in case.
Due to her humble upbringing, she was well-versed in dealing with wretched and fine folk all the same, so she had no reservations about correcting a wandering hand, just as she had done with Henrik.
It was not long after entering the town square that Elise’s disposition was put to the test. A fellow dressed in what might once have been decent clothes ran to her side and, with one swift yank, freed her of the satchel in her hand.
The change of property had been conducted with such finesse that Elise was left taken aback for a moment. She stood in shock, watching the man run with the light-footedness of a military scout.
“By root and stone, let strength make its home.”
Elise did not know if the Strength Potion would grant her any speed, but as she set off after the man, the potion proved effective with every physical effort she attempted.
The pursuit stretched through many streets, with Elise alerting everyone along the way about the thief, remarking with some passion about the event and announcing the color of the fellow’s clothes.
It was clear by the crowd’s reaction that every spectator understood the man’s recent endeavors as he ran with the satchel.
She sprinted with such energy that she soon closed the distance. The power of the potion made her feel as though she were flying, barely grazing the cobblestones. She could have continued the chase a while longer. Thankfully, a watchman caught her calls and tackled the pickpocket to the ground.
Elise’s good judgment was briefly outpaced by her vigor, and when she came upon the man who had forced her into a run, she greeted him with a firm slap that relieved him of a tooth.
The smack had been enough to put the offender to rest, and for a moment she felt almost inclined to offer an apology, though she restrained herself as the city watch looked on with some confusion.
People gathered all around the tumult. The commotion was such that a woman nearly fainted, and three men came to support her considerable frame. Elise, now calmer and amused by the efforts of the men trying to keep the unresponsive woman upright, turned to thank the watch.
The watchman only needed one close look at Elise to dismiss any wrongdoing on her part. He leaned low and offered a respectful nod before he could even begin to make sense of the situation.
Elise was about to leave when a coach drew suddenly to a halt, parting the crowd and lending further interest to the already heated affair. She composed her dress and hair as best she could, for the coach appeared to belong to someone of very high rank.
When the door eased open, Elise felt her heart falter and her cheeks grow warm.
The duke.
It was the man who had helped her enter the city.
He seemed even more handsome than Elise remembered.
His strong frame and striking features drew a few quiet gasps from the crowd.
Even the indisposed woman rose at his presence.
And who could blame her? The man looked the very personification of temptation as he stepped down from the coach with the effortless bearing of a royal.
Elise considered breaking into a run again, but the crowd was so tightly packed that the option quickly became impractical. Regrettably, she stayed where she was.
“You?” the duke whispered, and Elise felt she might very well die. First, he had seen her in her most ragged clothes, and now in this dress.
“Your Grace.” Elise bowed.
She could feel his eyes still on her, but thankfully the watch chose that moment to intervene and inform him of the successful capture of a thief.
The watchman did not trouble himself with particulars, and the duke seemed to form his own conclusions after another glance at Elise and then at the man lying on the street.
She assumed he would think she had only just arrived in the city to create trouble and might recommend she reconsider her stay, but to her good fortune, the duke’s judgment turned out kinder than she had expected.
“Allow me to see you home,” he said dryly, stealing a few passing looks at her dress.
Elise swallowed hard, but she held herself still.
She looked down to where the duke’s deep blue eyes might have fallen.
He was at least two heads taller than she was, yet his attention had settled much lower than her face.
She found the uneven rise of her breath.
Elise’s bosom was still flushed from the exertion of the chase, and if it had already been on display, now it seemed the fabric had surrendered a touch more than intended.
Her cheeks warmed at the realization of the duke’s interest.
He seemed no less disturbed, for he found a sudden interest in the arrangement of his sleeves.
“I’ll do just fine on my own,” Elise said firmly.
“It would be no trouble for me,” he insisted.
“If you think that because I’m wearing this dress I’m some sort of—”
The handsome man froze, swallowing thickly as Elise prepared to defend her honor when an unexpected interruption cut her short.
“Kurt, what is all this?” a woman called, peering out from the coach.
Elise didn’t know what to say. She had first thought the duke wanted something improper, but seeing he had company, she was no longer sure.
“I appreciate the offer, but I’m already late,” Elise managed to say.
The duke hesitated. For a moment, it seemed to Elise that he held himself back from reaching for her arm, but his companion made sure to prevent any closer contact.
The woman in question hurried out of the carriage and beside the duke with an air one might reserve for reclaiming lost property.
She looked as though she were heading to her betrothal.
The woman was no older than twenty. Her dress alone spoke of no lack of coin.
Gold thread glimmered in every seam. The piping of the bodice seemed made of the very metal, and the deep red of the skirt and sleeves only accentuated the fine features of her face.
She was blonde, her hair drawn into a tight bun that struck Elise as a faithful reflection of her character.
The woman wasted no time confirming Elise’s suspicions. She gave her a slow look from head to toe, conducting a careful inspection and leaving little doubt as to her dislike for Elise.
“Come on, Kurt,” she said.
The duke nodded. “Give me a moment, Adelle.”
The woman returned to the coach with a huff, struggling to fit her wide skirts through the narrow door. The duke eventually stepped in to help her.
Elise did not see fit to wait. After thanking the city watch once more, she made her way into the crowd, securing the satchel to the same cord from which her dress pocket hung.
She could not help but feel a small prick in her stomach at the sight of the duke and his companion. They seemed perfectly suited to one another. Rather than dwell on it, she chose to make her way out of the crowd. She had mingled enough with the good people of Metz for one day.
She had just passed the first line of onlookers when she felt an arm catch hers.
A quiet heat rose within her at the touch, as persistent as it was inconvenient. She turned to find the duke’s handsome face close to her own. He held her with just enough strength to halt her. His lips parted as he looked into her eyes with an expectation she could not easily ignore.
Her body reacted before her mind could, and she faltered for a breath, becoming suddenly aware of herself at his closeness.
“You are in danger walking alone,” he murmured. “And with this.” Something sharpened in his gaze before he reined it in.
Elise thought to correct him, to speak of the potion and the thief. But the warmth between them caught her first. She looked down at his strong hand still holding her arm, his fingers nearly closing around it.
An instinct urged her to remain close, perhaps even to close the distance, but she was not as bold as Morgaine. She was still bound by some of Noldrin’s rules of propriety.
“I’m on my way out of Metz. I live by a clearing in the forest,” Elise said, as if to dissuade the duke from his offer.
He didn’t flinch, but as if suddenly aware of the shared warmth between them, he let go of her arm and cleared his throat.
“That would be no inconvenience.” He walked to the coach and opened the door, looking at her with an almost demanding gaze.
Murmurs and whispers rippled around, and Elise knew the attention would follow her, perhaps even beyond the city. She could no longer bring herself to refuse the invitation.
She stepped inside the carriage, fearing the kind of scrutiny that awaited her.
“So you are coming?” Adelle huffed, indignant, pressing her lips together before the duke joined them.
Kurt sat to Adelle’s side, just within arm’s reach of Elise. The road began to clear as the coach moved on, and Elise shifted in the cushioned interior, casting occasional glances at the two in front of her.
Adelle busied herself with the view the ample window afforded, while Elise gave the duke directions to Morgaine’s house. Once she had finished, he seemed to suddenly remember that no introductions had been made and that he did not have a name to call her by.
“And your name, madam?”
“I’m Elise,” she replied.
He managed a smile. “Kurt.”
“Duke of Dornheim,” Adelle grumbled. “It’s Elise alone, no surname? You must be from some exotic place, darling.”
“Elise de Varenne,” she said. Morgaine had already warned her there were De Varennes in Bromheim, but it was the only name she had the faintest association with, since using her real one would have been too revealing of her origins.
“Never heard of it,” Adelle rasped, settling back to admire the landscape once more, though not before casting a glance at Elise’s cleavage. “Quite a fashion of low necklines you’ve brought to Metz.”
Elise held her composure. Despite the added freshness the dress lent her, she was not about to let this woman pass judgment on her. She sat with her back straight and her chin high.
“It’s a personal preference,” Elise said. “I made it myself.”
Adelle huffed. “A good seamstress you are.”
“Is that what brought you to town…dressmaking?” the duke asked, looking carefully around her skirt, perhaps noting the lack of tools for such work beyond the satchel with herbs and her dress pocket at her waist.
“No. I’m an apprentice of witchcraft,” Elise remarked. She had no idea how well or poorly regarded the profession was, but since Morgaine seemed to go about without trouble, she saw no reason to keep it a secret.
“A witch!”
Elise nodded at Adelle’s horror.
“I’ve heard it’s a reliable profession in the magic world,” Kurt whispered to Adelle.
The woman squinted and forced a smile at Elise.
The duke, seemingly aware of the hostility, set out to share some kindness. “There’s, in fact, an opening among the fairies for a new hand in the king’s court.”
“Fairies, Kurt, not witches.”
“The opening is for anyone who can help in the preparation of medicines and potions. Besides, the king used to employ witches before the fairies took charge.”
Elise managed a faint smile. “I’m just beginning to grasp the craft. But thank you.”
The carriage came to a stop, and Elise saw Morgaine’s house emerging among the white-blooming trees that lined the road.
“This is where I live,” Elise said.
Kurt moved to open the door and help her out.
Elise glanced at Adelle to bid her farewells, but the woman pretended she didn’t notice and held her gaze to the opposite side.
She stepped down the few narrow steps, and as she did, the duke’s hand met hers, steadying her with a touch that lingered just long enough to be noticed.
The forest air was cooler now, and Elise felt the coming rain. She looked up at the duke one last time. He stood close, thankfully his gaze now resting on her face rather than her dress.
Noticing the drizzle, he removed his blue velvet cape and settled it over Elise’s shoulders. She was about to refuse the favor, but the scent of it reached her so deeply that it would have been cruel to deny herself the comfort of keeping it.
“Until later,” he said.
“Perhaps.” Elise offered a smile.
She headed toward the house with an excitement hard to contain. She was so immersed in her own thoughts that she failed to notice the silence of the horses. Just as she was about to slide the bolt, something made her turn back. She found Kurt still standing there.
She managed a wave just before he turned swiftly and disappeared like the wind.
A handsome devil. Lucky Adelle.