Chapter Nineteen #2
I only nod, afraid I’ll give my fear away if I speak. An outing to see someone who could strip the marrow from my bones, gleefully.
“A supper picnic by the sea?” she nudges. “That sounds nice.”
I murmur something noncommittal back. I don’t actually know where we’re going.
Orrin hasn’t offered up the information and I was too wary to ask, yet I highly doubt there will be a picnic involved.
Just as Jinny jabs the last pin into my twisted-up hair, another someone steps up outside the door.
Him. At the knock, she rises and opens the door, but quickly steps back in surprise, dropping into a tidy bob visible in the mirror’s reflection.
“Oh, sir. I was just finishing up her hair.”
Orrin. Jinny glances back at me with a worried smile, as I’m in nothing save my underwear. Worried about propriety. Ha.
With a disappointed twinge, I turn back to the mirror and think, he’s probably never going to kiss me again.
I remember those black eyes burning into me, the curse right after.
I wish he’d kiss me, right now. But I shouldn’t wish for that, and anyway, it’s not going to happen, is it?
If it was, it would have again by now. It’s been over two weeks since that first one.
The only one. And he’s seemed to carefully avoid being alone with me since.
My lips tingle, and I avoid his searching gaze in the mirror. He is puzzled by me.
Finding my focus, I give Jinny a reassuring smile and dismiss her with a thank-you. As she walks out, he comes inside the room, a wave of heat and darkness. He leaves the door open. I try not to notice that too much.
“I didn’t ask you in, you know.” I rise from my seat and walk over, cool and collected.
I don’t stare at his lips at all. Not his mess of hair.
Not his straight nose or strong jawline.
Not at his hands, large, long-fingered, both strong and gracefully made.
Not at his form, which I still remember shining in the moonlight, shirtless, lean. He is beautiful, even with those eyes.
“Should I leave?”
I snap my gaze up. “Hmmm?”
“You seem distracted.”
“I’m fine, besides being scared out of my wits.” I shake my head, a few strategically placed curls tumbling around my shoulders. “Why are you here?”
“We’re late. I see you’re not dressed yet, unless you’re going to go in that?” His eyes rake over my body so fast I might not have noticed, had I not been staring at him so intently. He swallows so quietly only I would be able to catch it.
My breath catches. I answer hastily, tugging my pale blue dressing gown closed.
“Of course not. I was just trying to decide what to wear. I’m not sure what’s appropriate.
” I gesture to the dresses on the bed. “I’ve never been to a court before, obviously.
One of Death or otherwise. I’m picturing kings and queens, and nothing I have is grand enough. ”
He looks over the choices. “The black is the least-flattering.”
I try not to feel insulted. “Well then. That settles it.”
“I don’t mean it like that. Black is an excellent color.
” He points to himself—in black trousers and a matching coat, an ebony tie, a silver pocket watch that glints like a blade.
His dark boots polished to a shine, the spatters of those men’s blood cleaned up, as if they were never there.
Or he could just have several pairs of the same style, which I wouldn’t be surprised by, with his money.
He always is dressed in pristine clothing, impeccable fabrics, tailored to perfection.
Clearing his throat, he adds, “And you look beautiful in it.”
He means that, I can tell. His voice is serious when he goes on to explain, “In the others, though, you look too innocent.”
“I hardly am.” I half-laugh. Almost a challenge. I’m a well-loved woman. You don’t scare me. I can meet you halfway.
His mouth twitches. “Looking too innocent is dangerous today. Elisavet loves breaking the innocent. She considers it an amusing challenge. You will appear less tempting in the black.”
With lightning speed, he glances up and down my body again.
I’m frightened by what he said of Elisavet and, of course, our errand at hand, yet also flattered by his subtle attention.
I inch closer before realizing what I’m doing.
Trying to get nearer to smell him—the richness, the clean herbal scent of him mixed with moody undertones.
To touch him—feel his hard chest against my hands like before.
To taste him, or, to entice him to taste me. To drown in his dark eyes.
But that is not what is important right now.
I’m so afraid of what we’re about to do—there’s so much hinging on it.
We’ll either save Aven, or we won’t. I step back firmly to remind myself of all that is at stake, and say, rather primly, “Thank you. I’ll get dressed at once, and we can be on our way. ”
He, sensing my change in mood, gives a small nod, walks out, and shuts the door behind him.
I sit down on the bed, stealing one indulgent moment to pray for strength. Then I follow his advice and put on the black dress. He’s right. I don’t want Elisavet to want to take me anymore than she already might.
Knowing we’re late and not wanting to draw any more attention to our entrance as we might already, I hurriedly slide the pearl ring from Aven onto my finger and lean down and kiss it for luck.
I pull on my boots, buttoning them in haste, and then pick up the red slippers, gripping them to me to keep my trembling hands busy.
Finally, I take one more quick breath before opening the door and stepping into the empty hall.
Orrin is not waiting there for me, though the smell of him in the air teases me.
Nobody else is waiting for me either—no Mr. Brown making sure I don’t try to run.
I almost forgot, I have a freedom now I didn’t before.
I dash down the stairs, both sets, to find Orrin standing in the foyer, which is all shiny fixtures and glossy flooring these days—a far cry from the first time I entered this house.
He looks up at me as I take the final steps down the staircase, and I catch his lips bowing just a bit. He does think I look beautiful in the black—and in the matching outfits, I note with a sort of discomfort, we almost look a pair.
I take the arm he holds out chivalrously, reminding myself we are only playacting for the staff.
“We’re going out,” he says to Mrs. Minthy. “We’ll be late.”
“Of course, sir. I’ve packed a basket for you, as I’ve said. Have a lovely time,” she answers merrily, catching my eyes as we pass. “You look very pretty, Miss Corliss.”
“Thank you.” I give her a smile and then walk out the door on his arm.
As I clear the threshold, I glance backward at the mansion, which I’ve tried to escape from twice.
Now how I wish I could run back into it instead of facing off with a demon queen.
Although, hopefully, we won’t be facing off.
I rerun the plan through my mind. While I dance, when Elisavet is distracted, Orrin will lead Aven to the entrance where Mr. Brown will sneak her out.
Later on, after the party, Orrin and I will meet them at the mansion, all the while hoping—praying fervently—Elisavet doesn’t track Aven here.
Is this the best plan? It’s the only one we’ve got.
He seems to feel it’s a good one, so I try to pull some of his confidence out and drag it into me.
Orrin helps me step up into a sleek carriage. The same carriage, I assume, I was kidnapped in. It’s nicer with my eyes open and my hands free. He follows me inside the expensive vehicle, and Mr. Brown shuts the door. It takes me a moment to notice what’s missing—horses.
I mention it and Orrin says shortly, “Mr. Brown will hitch them up now that we’re inside. Animals sense magic. They don’t like it, specifically my magic—I doubt they’d be bothered by yours. They don’t like my sort. They don’t usually linger on the property, wild ones at least.”
That explains why the grounds are so quiet. I study his face, noting, “You sound resentful.”
“I liked animals when I was human. Horses, in particular. I had a dapple gray I especially loved.”
“Oh.” As much as I want to ask more about that—him, when he was human—in the privacy of the carriage, garnet-silk curtains outlining his form, I inquire, “Will she try to keep me there?”
His look is long, penetrating. “I don’t think so.
She’s not a fool. She knows that taking you from me would be an aggressive move, and I haven’t done anything to warrant that.
She likes to keep control by controlling her strikes.
She hurts when warranted—usually—and then rewards—in the way of money, jewels, power, sex, vices—to gain favor back. ”
“She is abusive.” My ears catch the horses’ shoes clip-clopping as they approach, my nose the sweet, warm smell of hay and carrots.
“She commits horrible abuses,” he agrees darkly.
I withhold another probing question. He’ll tell me when he’s ready. “How can she keep a loyal following if she does such things?”
“I don’t bother to guess. Elisavet is powerful, and people revere her. I’ve seen someone turn on her before. It didn’t end well. There’s nothing she won’t do to hold her power, and everyone either respects that, or they fear it. For most, that’s enough.”
I frown, stroking the red shoes in my skirts for comfort. He glances down, and his own hand in his lap twitches. He wants to hold my hand. But he won’t.
I swallow down a question.
“What is it?” He sighs at my unspoken words.
“Are we going to talk about what happened?”
“You’ll have to be more specific.”
“You know what I mean. I can tell by the way you’re not looking at me.” I throw up my hands in frustration. “You’ve been avoiding me for days.”
“What would you like me to say? That I’m sorry for kissing you?”
“Are you?” I ask, holding my breath.
Finally, he gazes at my face. “No.”
“I’m not either.” My voice is faint. “I almost wish you’d do it again.”
“I can’t.” He looks at me earnestly, regret palpable on his words. “I’m concerned Elisavet would see something tonight between the two of us. It’s dangerous.”
I nod. Then flare my nostrils. “I smell the ocean. Are we going closer to it?”
He draws up the shade of the carriage. With the first warmth of sunset streaming through the trees, I can see that the woods have thinned.
I stiffen in alarm. “We are. And we’re close to my cottage.”
“That’s only a coincidence, being that it is near the sea. Elisavet draws power from the elements. She likes to reside in court near water, or mountains, or other natural spaces. She draws power from settings in their raw state, untouched by man. It’s…complicated.”
The carriage stops with a shock. I whisper a secret, “I’m frightened.”
“You must relax. You look beautiful.” But his mouth is drawn.
“Why must you seem so angry giving me a compliment?”
Orrin meets my eyes again, his brows furrowed. “Because. I could kiss you right now…among other things.”
“And you don’t want to?”
“I cannot,” he answers simply, but there’s something ragged about it. “As I said.”
I stare at his mouth, remember how he pressed his hard body into mine as we kissed in his sitting room, how gentle yet urgent his hands were as they ran up and down me. My lust is a flame that won’t extinguish now.
“You’re blushing.” He gives me a knowing look.
“I’m not!” I protest. As if I’d blush from such a thing.
“Afterward, if we get out of here as planned with your sister, then I will kiss you,” he promises, and his teeth flash white. “Use that knowledge to fuel your performance.”
“You’re so infuriating.” Ignoring his teasing, I push down a fearful understanding. If we get out of here safely, he means. Alive. If we get Aven. God, what if we don’t? I sober immediately. I can’t believe this night is finally here.
“Let’s go.” He gives me one last smile, encouraging me.
We exit the carriage as Mr. Brown holds something over the horse’s faces.
A blindfold. I glance at Orrin, catch him toss the beautiful beasts a slightly mournful look, so quickly I wonder if I imagined it.
He walks ahead, separating himself from me by distance and emotion. I catch up only for him to pause.
We have stopped on the rocky shore near the edge of the sea, not so close for me to see the cottage, but close enough to know it’s near, one sister tucked away safely inside.
I draw strength from Sélie’s love, from the fervent hope I hold to return Aven to her as well.
The marrow-deep desire to have the three of us together again.
Then I step forward with Orrin, gripping the red slippers like a lifeline. They have magic. They make me dance like a goddess. Can’t they protect us both somehow, regardless of Elisavet being at the root of their power?
We leave Mr. Brown and the carriage behind.
I try to leave my fear behind as well.