Chapter Twenty-Four
Twenty-Four
I did not, in fact, wake him up in time to see the Exhibition.
Because he did not, in fact, go to sleep.
He did rest a bit, and then we started all over again, with him bringing me off again, this time with his mouth, while I thrashed on the bed, moaning softly (this time I might have said his name a few times, along with dire threats of what I’d do to him if he stopped).
The night passed by far quicker than I wanted, and soon it was six o’clock in the morning, and I needed to return home so I could get dressed to respectfully and discreetly accompany the Devil and his entourage to the opening of the Great Exhibition.
We were attending a private opening, since neither the Devil nor the Queen wanted the general populace to be near the hellish denizens, which suited me just fine. I didn’t want a repeat of what happened at the bazaar, even though the initial trouble was caused entirely by Marcellus.
“This is yours, I believe?” Marcellus said, holding my shift. I was still in bed, clutching the bedspread against me in an attempt to be modest, as though he hadn’t personally inspected every inch of my body.
“Thank you,” I replied, as he tossed it to me.
It felt so—not awkward, not entirely, but strange, to be here with him in the aftermath of all that activity. We’d shared so much, and yet we both knew we’d be parting in a day or two, and how were we to converse after that?
I shimmied into my shift, then hopped out of bed, going to where Marcellus had draped my gown. He, meanwhile, was casually walking around the room still entirely naked, as though it didn’t bother him at all.
Perhaps I was the only one feeling not-awkward strange?
Perhaps this was a regular occurrence for him?
Were hellish beings much more casual about clothing, or was this just a Marcellus thing?
Frankly, if I looked as good as he did naked, I might never get dressed again.
I needed to stop thinking and start focusing on my duties. Which meant getting dressed, putting all this out of my mind for the time being, and going home, where I would deflect my friends’ questions and get dressed in my proper species-ombudsman daytime attire, that of the fussy housekeeper.
I sighed, already mourning the loss of excitement in my life. Though not all the excitement—I could have done without the various attempts on my charges’ lives, but the rest was wonderful.
“Are you all right? Not too tired?” he asked, once again being far too observant.
I pulled my gown up and over my head and wriggled into it. “I am fine,” I said in a very cheery voice.
He walked toward me, clearly not convinced. Though there was something about a nude man striding toward one that changed one’s mood, especially when the man looked like Marcellus. So I had to admit I was more all right than I had been a few moments ago.
He adjusted my gown, then turned me around and began to do up my buttons. “I don’t believe you, but we don’t have time to argue.”
That’s because, I thought, we don’t have time.
We don’t have time to discover what this is, if this is anything, because you have to go back to Hell and I have to return to my normal duties of solving problems between species and keeping an eye out for any potential issues.
We don’t have time because you are a demon with your own values and morality and I am a human with my own values and morality, and those two things are different.
We don’t have time because your father is the actual Devil, and who knows what he’d say if he knew you were cavorting with a mere human?
I didn’t think the Prince of Darkness would be very pleased, to be honest, but I had to leave that in Marcellus’s hands.
We don’t have time.
Once I was buttoned up—both figuratively and literally—and Marcellus had, to my vast regret, put his clothes back on, we descended the stairs, where we found Madame Estley waiting for us.
I wondered if she ever slept, or was she able to stay up all the time because she was fueled so well by her clientele?
I’d have to ask Lily at some point about that.
“I trust you had an enjoyable evening?” she said, glancing between the two of us.
“We did,” Marcellus said, taking my arm.
She nodded at me. “Miss Hastings,” she began, even though I did not recall mentioning my name, “please feel free to return here at any time, even without my lord. You would be most welcome.”
Marcellus bared his teeth and growled, which made me secretly very pleased. No, we had no future, but he was jealous. That was something, wasn’t it?
“Thank you, madame.” I shot a quick look at Marcellus, then continued. “I will keep your offer in mind.”
She handed me a card, her hand lingering on mine for just a tad too long. “Do. It would be delightful to have your company here.”
“I’ll send the payment to you this afternoon,” Marcellus said abruptly. “We’re late—we must go.”
“A pity,” Madame Estley said, giving me a knowing glance. “It’s been a pleasure.”
Indeed it has, I thought, as we walked out the door.
Marcellus insisted on taking me home, even though I imagined his father was likely already up and yowling about his son’s absence.
We walked up to my door, and then I did something I never would have imagined—I grabbed him and kissed him, even though I’d seen both Hannah’s and Lily’s faces peeking out from the windows.
It wasn’t as though they didn’t know what I’d been up to, I reasoned. Why should I go without a last kiss just because of false modesty?
He responded with alacrity, and it was a good thing we were in public, or we might have begun a reprise of the night before.
As it was, it was at least ten more minutes before I finally made my way inside, where I was met by my friends and an enthusiastic dog, who likely just wanted cheese, not gossip.
“I’ve got to get ready to go again,” I said, holding up my hand to ward off their questions.
Lily made a face. “You are no fun,” she said.
I held my hands up in surrender. “I will tell you everything! Just not now. I’ve got to go wrangle the Devil. And try not to annoy Queen Victoria. You know, my job.”
Hannah offered an understanding smile. “We know. We’ll be waiting—”
“I won’t,” Lily said with a snort.
“—when you return,” Hannah said, as smoothly as though our friend hadn’t interrupted.
I ran to my room, undoing my buttons as best as I could, then dressed hurriedly into my nicest day gown, taking pains with my hair, which had gotten quite mussed from the evening’s activities.
It was fifteen minutes later when I emerged to see Hannah standing at the kitchen table holding a steaming cup of tea.
“Bless you,” I said, taking the cup from her.
“I am envious you get to see everything first,” she said, her eyes shining. “New works from so many countries are going to be on display, and beings from all over the world will come to see them. It will truly be spectacular.”
I nodded. “It seems Prince Albert has a vision. He’s very quiet, but I imagine if I were to speak to him, he might share my thoughts about life post-Revelation.
I just hope that there isn’t any nonsense because of so many different types of beings all gathered together in one spot.
” I felt my stomach tighten just thinking about that and was grateful for my antisupernatural necklace, though it was to be used only as a last resort.
“I hope to go in a week or two,” Hannah said, tossing some sort of treat to Dante. “We’re already getting people in our shop insisting something they have is from the Exhibition—it hasn’t even opened yet.” She shook her head. “It will only get worse.”
“But you’ll be busy, at least,” I pointed out. I knew Hannah hated idleness; unlike her fellow fairies, she didn’t find flitting around and being sparklingly pretty to be fulfilling enough. She liked having a purpose beyond her appearance.
“True,” she said. She glanced at the clock. “Finish that up,” she urged, nodding to the tea in my hands. “You don’t want to be late.”
I gulped the rest of the brew down, then picked up my cane, gave Dante a last pat, and dashed out the door.
Today would be the final day of my devilish responsibilities. I was grateful they were coming to an end, because the stress of caring for the Devil was a lot, but of course I was already mourning the loss of my love life.
I arrived at Clarence House to find everything and everybody already in an uproar.
The butler looked relieved when he saw me, immediately waving me into the main room, where we’d had the party. “Miss, the Devil has been waiting for at least an hour,” he whispered. “He’s in a fine mood, and his son is in an even worse temper.”
I nodded, trying to take deep breaths so I could remain as professional as possible.
“There you are!” the Devil screeched, standing at the doorway.
“Have you been here hiding? Don’t you know what today is?
How are we not on our way?” He advanced toward me, smoke emanating from everywhere.
“I have warned you, have I not, about the importance of not displeasing me? Don’t forget, I could roast you in a moment. ”
As though I could ever forget.
I curtsied, then spoke in as reassuring a tone as possible.
“Yes, my lord, the Queen’s staff said we should arrive between eleven and twelve o’clock.
It is now just a bit past ten o’clock, so we are in plenty of time.
” I turned to the butler. “Could you send for the carriages, please? And ask the kitchen staff to pack some food and beverage for us?” I spoke to the Devil again.
“I imagine you will want some sustenance after viewing the treasures,” I said.
“I have it on good authority there are some excellent treacle tarts.”
The butler met my eye and nodded. “Yes, my lord, we will have everything you require.”
“And some of those damson tarts,” the Devil replied in a querulous voice.
“Of course.”
The butler scurried out as fast as his legs could take him, and I attempted to soothe the fussiest supernatural being who could also scorch me into oblivion in ten seconds.
“Sir, would you like to sit while we wait for the carriage?” I asked, gesturing to one of the chairs.
He flopped ungracefully into it, folding his arms over his chest.
If it wouldn’t mean immediate annihilation, I would have burst into laughter at how sulky he was.
“There you are.” Marcellus strode into the room, making my heart leap. He’d spoken the same words as his father, but of course he sounded so much different.
He looked tired but still—of course—stupidly handsome.
“We’ve ordered the carriages, my lord, and we should be able to leave soon,” I informed him, keeping my tone neutral.
Because neither he nor his father needed to hear my real feelings, which were along the lines of Don’t leave, please.
Let’s figure out what this is, and maybe it’s nothing because we’re too different, but let’s give it a try.
“Thank you, Miss Hastings,” he replied in a grave voice.
The butler returned, an eager expression on his face. “My lords, miss, the carriages are ready. I’ve packed the baskets inside, and you can be on your way.”
I consulted my watch. It was still a bit early for our arrival, but if I could discreetly inform the coachman to take the long way, it should be all right. I did not want to have the Devil chafing at the door to the Great Exhibition; that would likely cause all sorts of problems.
The Devil sprang out of his chair without acknowledging what the butler had said, while Marcellus gave the poor man a quick nod, and I mouthed, “Thank you,” as we left.
As before, the Devil took the first carriage, and Marcellus guided me to the last, assisting me inside before getting in himself.
He didn’t waste a moment but drew me into his side, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “I hope he wasn’t so terrible this morning.”
I shrugged. “No more than any other spoiled debutante.”
“You’ll be glad to be rid of us,” he replied.
I didn’t say anything, mostly because I couldn’t think of anything that would be appropriate: No, I won’t, because I’ve fallen in love with you was obviously right out; Yes, I can’t wait would also be just as bad.
“When are you leaving?” I asked instead.
He turned to look out the carriage window. We were probably fifteen minutes from the Crystal Palace, which was where the Exhibition was to take place.
“Tomorrow.”
I must’ve frozen, because he squeezed me even closer to him. As though his proximity now would make up for the eternity of nonproximity I would have when he was gone. I focused on keeping my breathing measured as I spoke again.
“I see.”
We spent the rest of the ride in silence. It wasn’t exactly comfortable silence, given my racing thoughts, but it wasn’t uncomfortable either. It just was.
Which was what I would be after they left. Or more specifically, after he left.