CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Charlotte
I pace the foyer, waiting for Alad to descend. Mary sent him to bathe and dress when he returned from Baimstree-on-Bath radiating contentment.
“It’s perfect for us,” he’d said as soon as he alighted, grinning from ear to ear.
“There are all sorts of creatures living among humans. I’m told we might rent a cottage while we see to the building of a home.
I touched down behind a tavern in full First Form and was welcomed immediately.
I even met an aralez, a type of dog-god known from as far back as before The Flood.
He gave me a synopsis of history from my time to this one. ”
“Does he know what happened to Gilgamesh?” I asked, clinging tight to the monster I had missed all day.
“Knew of him, but not where his tomb might be, although he shared his suspicions. Not that I think he’s interred within it, but there may be clues as to his whereabouts. I’m certain he’ll have left me a note. I think if I were to fly to…”
“Yes, yes, of course, but later. Go get dressed, Alad, but do take a bath first.” Mary chased him up the stairs. He’d laughed the entire way, grinning at me before disappearing around a curve.
Now, dressed in a gown of lavender falls of lace adorned with lavender fabric rosettes sporting seed pearl centers along the overskirt, my very fingertips thrum with excitement.
“He’s changed you,” Mary says, swishing toward me with a smile. She examines me from head to toe before nodding. “There’s something more forthright in your expression. More… contented.”
“He’s made me his. I never realized I needed to belong to someone, but I suppose I do.”
Her expression falls. “I hope I haven’t made you feel unwelcome.
I know how difficult it must have been for you to live from my purse, but honestly, Charlotte, I’ve never thought of you as anything other than a friend.
A sister, even. Why, what happened to your father might have happened to mine as well. They both gambled together often.”
“Penury might befall us all,” I agree as I clasp her hands in mine and squeeze gently.
“You never treated me with anything other than respect, Mary, and I love you for it. But I do feel more comfortable not living from your bounty any longer. Well,” I amend, with a laugh. “At least, not for much longer.”
“Don’t be silly. Why, Viscount Curmuttin once spent a year and a half at Pearlwinds.” She names the ducal estate in Dover. “Anything less than ten years is very nearly a weekend guest.”
I laugh and drop her hands. She’s always been so kind, so good. I wish she could experience the same happiness I am. My eyes prickle with unshed tears. Happy tears. I’m truly blessed.
“I know it’s crass of me to ask, but will you have enough to live on?” She means money, of course.
The fact is, I’m not sure. Alad evaded the question earlier by pointing to coin and Gilgamesh, but I’m not certain he understands the costs of things in the here and now. “We’ll find a way, I’m sure. I’d rather have him than fripperies.”
“You see? True love.”
And when Alad steps down the stairs, all my lovely lady lessons desert me.
I jump up and down on my toes, clapping my hands as I squeal like a pig.
But who could really blame me? He’s so handsome in his human form, dressed in eveningwear, that he puts beauty to shame.
I may prefer the monster in bed—definitely prefer the monster in bed—but I’m not above taking advantage of him looking like lust on legs so that every other female who’s ever given me the cut direct reconsiders her decision.
“I’ll take that reaction as a compliment,” he says before gathering me close for a long kiss that has me rethinking the necessity of leaving the house.
“No, not another night of… well, never mind,” Mary says. “You look quite handsome, Alad. Do the shoes fit?”
“They do. They pinch a bit, but no more than my Fourth Form, and in the presence of such beauty, I’ll soon forget any pain. You both look breathtaking.”
“He’s quite the charmer, isn’t he?” Mary says, her expression deadpan.
“And mine.”
She bursts out laughing, and I’m forced to join her in a smile.
“Fine. I’m the teensiest bit jealous at times,” I confess.
“No need, sweet one. You’re the only woman I want, need, and desire. I’m yours.” He bows low and places a very precise kiss upon the back of my glove. But he ruins the effect by pulling me into him again, his hand stretched just above my bustle. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Mary clears her throat at our outrageous display and rolls her eyes.
The trip requires nearly an hour, though the viscount’s home is only three blocks away. We chatter aimlessly as the carriage snags in traffic, but by the time we’re announced, Alad’s good humor is straining.
He huffs like a cornered bull. “We must find Sir Austen. Do you know what he looks like?” He cranes his head, looking over the ballroom amid the swirl of beautiful skirts and dark formal wear.
But for the moment, I can’t seem to focus upon anything other than Alad and the joy of finally having someone with whom to share the enchantment.
There’s a different sort of magic in the room, the same kind present in all Society balls.
Butterflies and giddiness fill me just as they did the first time I was presented.
The music echoes in strains from the ensemble playing in the corner.
Perfume wafts, gorgeous dresses swish, people chatter and laugh.
Beautiful young women hope to find their husbands.
Handsome young men hope to evade their mothers.
Ever since I lost the right to this world, I’ve felt like an intruder.
I’ve longed to be accepted again as something more than an unnoticeable companion, but now, everything’s changed.
On my arm stands a being who defies convention.
He’s something so other that everything I’ve ever wanted before him pales into nothingness. Being with him, I feel reborn.
Tonight, hopefully, I’ll dance with my handsome monster. And find Sir Austen.
Alad must see the yearning to float around the floor in my expression, for instead of breaking through the crowd in search of the man who will tell him about Gilgamesh, he holds out his hand for mine. When I give it, he bows low, kissing the back of my glove. “A turn about the floor, lovely wife?”
I flick open the fan I wear dangling from the other wrist and look at him coquettishly over the top. “Why, Sir, I am Miss Butters to you, at least until a priest blesses our union.”
“Three days. It was the soonest I could arrange,” Mary mumbles from beside me as she taps her foot. “Oh, do go dance with him, Charlotte. I’ll await you over there, along the line of wallflowers.”
I know the spot. It’s always the same, no matter the ballroom. A line of chairs is tucked into a corner for spinsters facing the execution call of loneliness.
“We can wait for Lord Peterson to come and save you. Look. He’s just there.
” I point with my fan. The moppet-haired viscount cuts a dashing figure as he converses with a gray-haired couple that I don’t recognize.
He’s sending covert glances Mary’s way. I’ve no doubt he’ll make a beeline for her as quickly as politeness will allow.
“Bother,” she says before giving me a push.
Alad laughs, squeezing me close to him as he slices through the crowd to the floor.
A waltz, once considered scandalous, begins to play as others shift to accommodate us among them.
Strains of the beautiful melody whisk us into movement.
I never thought to ask if he could dance, but he performs the movements as if he’s practiced them all his life.
“How do you know the steps?” I ask, struggling to keep the foot distance between our bodies upon which my dance teacher used to insist.
He winks at me. “I’m a fast learner.”
Lady Harrison, pristinely correct, posture perfect as she dances next to us in Lord Harrison’s arms, gasps as she spies Alad’s improper action.
He merely laughs. “I’m scandalizing Society, and I’ve yet to be introduced.”
“No matter, since your garments proclaim you a gentleman. Plus, you escorted Lady Mary. Much will be forgiven you.”
“I escorted you, but far be it from me to close a door she’s opened.” Suddenly, his eyes heat upon mine. “Have I told you how ravishing you look tonight?”
I laugh even as the tingle between my thighs rushes up to my core, there to settle like a bundle of electric sparks. Happily, as if sensing the churning and melting inside me, Alad easily lifts me an inch off the floor so I don’t have to concentrate on my steps. “I forget how strong you are.”
“Do you like it?”
“I do. I never thought I’d appreciate being made to feel small and weak…”
“Never weak.”
“…but I do, with you, because I know you’ll protect me.”
“Always.”
“And being protected by you makes me… happy.” I settle on the incomplete sentiment because there’s no manner possible to describe the mix of emotions I feel in knowing this magical beast will guard me for the rest of my life.
It’s like winning a fortune and being granted good health and a plethora of friends, all at one moment.
“I can make you happier.” He pulls me a little closer, the foot of air between us giving way to perhaps an inch.
For the first time, I understand why the waltz was considered scandalous.
Held in his strong arms, with chandelier lamps blazing, perfume overpowering the room, and my heart beating as if it must escape from my chest, I’m overcome with a desire that reaches so deep inside me, there remains nothing of me left unaffected.
“I love you so much, Alad. I-I don’t know how to keep this much emotion inside me.”
His feet stall as his eyes glow. “I can never hear those words from you enough. I feel the same thing, Charlotte. Here.” He releases me briefly to tap his chest. “I feel so full here, for the first time in my life.”
Lady and Lord Mortimer plow into us. Alad’s eyes barely move from mine as he offers a quick apology before swishing me from the dance floor and out onto the cooler terrace.
Gentle floral scents rise from the garden.
I breathe deep. The night air brushes my heated skin, but nothing can contain the tremors rippling through me.
“Say it again.” He draws me towards the rail, into the darkest part clothed in shadows.
“Alad…”
He presses me closer, crimpling my bustle in his enormous hands. “Please.”
There’s something in his voice, some deep-seated need, a crushing vulnerability. It’s inexplicable. He’s a demigod. He’s magick. How can he sound so forlorn, as if he needs the words to continue existing?
My heart settles only a little, but my fingers reach up to stroke his clean jawline. So beautiful. A man like him should never wear facial hair, because it can only detract from his fierce, hawk-like features. Fierce. Protective. Gentle. Dangerous.
“I love you, Alad. I love you with every part of me.”
Without warning, he expands into his god form.
Second Form, I think he calls it. Clothing rips from him, leaving only decorative pieces of his trousers, jacket, and shirt spanning down his front.
His wings unfurl. The force of the unspringing knocks through the stone railing and tumbles most of it onto the shrubbery below.
“I love you, too, Charlotte. With every part of me.” And he draws me up into his arms, holding me close as he springs into the air. His powerful wings sweep, lifting us into the sky so fast, the wind rushes by me as if I’ve been cast into the center of a raging storm.
But the only storm is the one he makes when his lips close on mine.