The Masked Fae (Royal Fae of Rose Briar Woods Book 1)

by Shari L. Tapscott

  I press my lips to his once more, slowly this time.

  “Kiss me like you did when we fled into the night,” I say quietly when Brahm doesn’t respond, my words feathering across his lips. “At least for now, let’s focus on something pleasant.”

  I expect him to refuse—I know this isn’t the right time.

  But Brahm suddenly claims my mouth in a kiss that steals my breath. His lips move against mine, giving and taking, guiding and teaching, making me realize he’s far more practiced than I am.

  I’ve never experienced this sort of intimacy before, feeling so close, so connected. Brahm’s lips and breath are hot against my still-cool skin; his jaw is smooth and firm.

  A flame lights in my chest, the warmth burning away my lingering anxiety, and I wrap my arms around his neck.

  Brahm lets out a dark sigh, and his fingers twine into my hair. The gentle tug takes me by surprise, and I draw in a startled breath, curling my fingers around his shoulder and pressing myself against him.

  With a growl deep in the back of his throat, he deepens the kiss, making me nearly dizzy. Tasting, touching, wanting, needing—my thoughts are reduced to sensation.

  After several minutes, Brahm lies back, taking me with him, rolling so I’m below him. He lies beside me, propped on his elbow, his free hand cradling the back of my head. The hard press of the wooden floor is a contrast to his soft exploratory kisses, and it nearly makes me lose my mind.

  And then…Brahm pushes away. He sits up and presses the heel of his hand to his forehead. And though his eyes are dark with desire, his expression is tormented.

  I blink at him, breathing hard, blood surging through my veins like I’ve been running.

  Brahm helps me sit up, and then he stares at the dancing flames in the fireplace.

  “What’s the matter?” I ask softly, tugging at the long skirts that are now twisted around my legs. I feel I did something to upset him, but that doesn’t seem right. He was fine until just a moment ago.

  “We can’t do this,” he finally answers, his tone flat.

  I hug myself, waiting for him to continue. When he looks up, I long to brush his messy hair back into place, but I know he wouldn’t welcome my touch now.

  “I’m not allowed to court you,” he says, “so I can’t touch you like you’re mine.”

  I sit up straighter and smooth my skirts, unsure how to respond.

  “This is wrong, and I would be as wicked as Ian if I let it continue.” Brahm pushes himself to his feet and then offers me his hand. With regretful eyes, he says, “I’m sorry.”

  “For kissing me?” I demand, fighting back a horrified laugh as I avoid his face. “Or telling me you won’t kiss me again?”

  Looking as frustrated as I feel, he says, “Both.”

  “Are you telling me I’ve just agreed to a life of complete spinsterhood?”

  “I didn’t want this for you,” he says, his voice raw. “I tried…”

  “I know,” I answer quickly, sensing he’s on a precarious ledge. “This isn’t your fault.”

  “My mother used you to attack me. For that, I am deeply sorry. But I swear, I will show you the honor you deserve.”

  I try to offer him a grateful smile, but inside, I’m sobbing.

  My future looks very bleak indeed.

  It’s taken several days for the sun to melt most of the snow and ice from the roads, but they’re now clear enough to pass by carriage.

  Goodbyes must be said, and they’re even more difficult than I expected.

  “What do you mean you’re going back to Lord Ambrose’s estate?” Mrs. Fletcher exclaims, horrified.

  I don’t want to tell her what’s happened. She won’t understand, and she’ll worry too much.

  Thankfully, Brahm walks into the room, saving me from the conversation. “Are you ready, Alice?”

  Neither of us expects Mrs. Fletcher to turn on him like a mother badger. “You’re not taking her! Alice has no obligation to you, and you will not manipulate her into thinking otherwise. Leave her be—go back to Faerie without her.”

  “I’m afraid the matter is out of my control.” Less concerned about upsetting her than I am, Brahm waves his hand, making the air spark. “I tried to return Alice, but things didn’t go as planned.”

  Mrs. Fletcher’s gasp mirrors my own, but it’s not his magic that startles me—it’s what Brahm has revealed.

  “What did you do to her?” Mrs. Fletcher demands, her eyes on the glowing cord between Brahm and me.

  The cord wraps around Brahm’s wrist before it travels to mine. Lifting my hand, I study it. I can’t feel the golden braid against my skin. It’s not cold nor hot, heavy nor light, and I wonder if it’s merely an illusion.

  Brahm mentioned a tether, but I thought it was a visual representation of the magic—not an actual tether.

  “This was Alice’s doing, not mine,” Brahm says. When he lowers his hand, the golden cord fades.

  Brahm watches impassively as my fingers go to my wrist. His eyes seem to remind me that I asked for this.

  “Release her!” Mrs. Fletcher commands.

  “I cannot. The agreement was made between Alice and my mother.”

  When Mrs. Fletcher begins to panic, I set my hand on her arm. “I’m all right.”

  “You’re not all right!” Her hands flutter at her waist. “You’re shackled to one of them. Do you have any idea what—”

  “It’s your choice whether you and your husband remain at your posts now that Alice is leaving,” Brahm says, apparently done with the conversation. “I will continue your pay if you stay. Otherwise, I will give you a small sum to thank you for the trouble of returning so briefly.”

  Mrs. Fletcher’s eyes flash. “I don’t want your filthy money.”

  “Mrs. Fletcher!” I say, aghast.

  Calmly, Brahm holds up a hand, telling me it’s all right. “She’s no less upset than I am, but what’s done is done, and there’s no changing that.”

  Mrs. Fletcher suddenly turns to me, growing frantic. “I don’t understand. What happened? He was giving you back your home! He had all the furniture returned.”

  I glance at Brahm, unsure how to answer.

  She turns to the marquis, pressing her hands together in a plea, changing tactics. “Please, Lord Ambrose, I beg you. Don’t take her.”

  I know Brahm well enough to see his distress under his careful mask. Instead of responding to her begging, he says, “Gustin will be released by the end of the day. However, he is not welcome here. Do not allow him into the house.”

  Shocked, I turn to Brahm. “You’re releasing Gustin?”

  He crosses his arms, giving me a curt nod, making me think he’s not telling me everything.

  “Why now?” I demand.

  “Are you ready to leave?” he asks.

  “Brahm!”

  Mrs. Fletcher peeps in surprise, and I realize I probably shouldn’t have used his given name in front of her. The housekeeper looks like she’s about to faint, and I’m sure she’s imagining all sorts of improper things.

  Brahm glances at her before he turns back to me. “The coachman is waiting.”

  “The coachman?” I ask, realizing we haven’t discussed what happened with Wallen. It seemed he and Brahm were close, and I’m afraid he feels the deception keenly.

  Though in the last several days, we haven’t discussed much of anything. While we’ve waited for the snow to melt, I’ve been sleeping in the bedroom I grew up in, pretending my life hasn’t changed dramatically. Brahm has taken up a guest room on the opposite end of the hall.

  With the furniture back in place, and Mrs. Fletcher buzzing about, instructing the new maids and footmen on their duties and chiding the young houseboy, it almost feels normal again.

  Brahm might as well be a friend of the family, here for a holiday visit.

  But today, everything changes.

  “The man I hired when I believed you’d be staying here,” Brahm explains.

 
; Mrs. Fletcher’s confusion grows.

  I turn to her, opening my arms for an embrace. “Perhaps I will be able to visit occasionally,” I say, glancing at Brahm to see if there’s a chance. When he nods, I turn back to Mrs. Fletcher. “Unless you’re going to leave Kellington?”

  Stepping in to hug me, she eyes Brahm with suspicion. “We’ll stay. For now, at least.”

  “I’m glad I got to see you,” I say as she squeezes her arms around me.

  “Take care of yourself,” she whispers. “The Fae can’t be trusted.”

  “I’ll be careful,” I promise.

  Fifteen minutes later, I look out the carriage window, waving to Mrs. and Mr. Fletcher as the horses cut through the already melting snow.

  And then we’re exiting the drive, and I feel as if I’m leaving my childhood behind—this time, for good.

  21

  ALICE

  “You avoided my question,” I say to Brahm as we cross the bridge. “Why are you releasing Gustin now?”

  Brahm crosses his arms, studying me with slightly narrowed eyes. “When you became my illanté, you completed a bargain he tried to initiate when he realized he’d lost the estate.”

  His words are ominous, and I sit up a smidgen straighter. “What kind of bargain?”

  He doesn’t want to tell me—the set of his jaw makes it obvious.

  “Brahm,” I say in a warning voice.

  “Gustin offered you instead—a straight trade.”

  I stare at him. “He offered me?”

  Brahm nods slowly. “I believe he intended a marriage contract, perhaps not knowing the Fae do not marry humans. You are fortunate he made the offer to me and not one of my peers.”

  Peers like Ian.

  “Gustin attempted to trade me for the estate?” I ask icily. “As if I am property to add to a wager?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  I felt betrayed when Gustin lost our home, but now I’m livid. I knew we weren’t close, but how could he?

  “I didn’t want to tell you,” Brahm says quietly. “I’m sorry you had to find out.”

  “It’s painful, but the truth is never something to apologize for sharing,” I say. “Though I can’t say I’d mind if you let him languish for a few more months in the debtor’s prison.”

  “I’m afraid I cannot. I felt the magic complete the bargain as soon as we were tethered. Whether we like it or not, your brother is a free man.” He smiles darkly. “A free man without a copper to his name.”

  A tiny part of me worries, but the rest of me brushes the concern away. If nothing else, Gustin is scrappy. Like a cat, he always seems to end up on his feet.

  Let him figure out his own troubles. I have enough of my own to tend to.

  My return to the Ambrose estate lacks any sort of fanfare. I step out of the carriage, peering at the manor that is now my home. I remove my cloak—it’s much too warm for it in the spring woods.

  The remainder of the drive here was nearly silent. I didn’t know what to say, and it’s obvious Brahm didn’t either.

  I hadn’t realized our relationship would change this quickly.

  The newly hired coachman, a human man named Darren, unloads my nearly empty trunk as he peers at the grounds, looking as if he expects to be spirited away and never seen again—a legitimate concern.

  He will return to my family’s estate after this. I overheard the conversation between him and Brahm before we left. Apparently, Brahm will keep him on staff so that he may be of use to Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher.

  Though Brahm originally planned to sell the property when he won the wager, he seems to have no intention of it now.

  He hasn’t mentioned putting it in my name again, however. And why would he? What does a pet need with property?

  Regina appears on the entry steps, leading a footman. He eyes me with curiosity, looking as if he’s wondering why I’m back.

  Do they know? Brahm said they cannot harm an illanté, so perhaps the tether is visible to them? Have I been branded like a cow, the magic proclaiming that I am Lord Ambrose’s property?

  The thought doesn’t settle well.

  Better Brahm than Ian, I remind myself.

  “What happened?” Regina asks Brahm quietly, frowning at me. “Why have you brought Alice back, and why is she—”

  “Later,” Brahm says, gesturing for me to lead the way up the stairs. “Prepare Alice’s room. She will be living with us now. Tomorrow, would you go into Corrinmead and bring back a selection of linens? She may choose whatever she likes.”

  “Of course,” Regina says.

  “And order several more gowns while you’re there. I doubt she wishes to continue dressing like a garden maid.”

  Regina nods, glancing at me with something that seems a little too much like pity for my liking.

  Brahm turns to me, looking terribly solemn. “What else would you like, Alice? Perhaps a private sitting room? A garden?”

  I stare at him, dumbfounded.

  “A studio,” he says, acting quite strange. He turns to Regina once more. “Find somewhere appropriate, with plenty of natural light, and stock it well.”

  Even Regina looks bewildered. “All right.”

  “I have business to attend to,” he says. “I assume you can make sure Alice is settled?”

  Slowly, Regina nods.

  “Whatever Alice wants—anything at all—make sure she gets it.” Bowing his head toward me in a respectful goodbye, Brahm excuses himself and walks into the manor.

  “Did you quarrel on your way here?” Regina asks quietly.

  With a sigh, I say, “We barely spoke at all.”

  My second month at Brahm’s estate passes far more quickly than the first. The illanté tether has given me a new sense of freedom. The staff now ignores me as I explore the estate and grounds, and I feel less vulnerable without their constant attention. More importantly, the housemaids no longer see me as a threat—they barely look at me at all.

  Though I never leave the safety of the iron fence, the woods inside the property are lovely and strange. I never know what I’m going to find, from pint-sized pixies that sleep in folded leaves to little birds with thick, icing-pink plumage.

  On my daily walks, I find bundles of gifts. They always contain the same things—pretty rocks that sparkle in the sun, glittering pinecones, and intricate flower chains. I have no idea what creature leaves them for me.

  Regina ordered four new gowns, each lovelier than the last, and my studio is big and bright. Even though I grew up as the daughter of a lord, I’ve never been so spoiled in my life.

  But it’s hard to enjoy it all when no masked bandit visits me in the evenings, and I only see Brahm at meals. He’s distanced himself, speaking to me in a careful manner, asking questions about my day and acting as disinterested as a distant male relative might.

  So this evening when there’s a knock at my door, I expect it to be Regina and not Brahm. When I find him standing in the hall, I let out a surprised noise that makes his lips twitch so briefly, I think I might have imagined it.

  Crossing my arms, I narrow my eyes at him. “Are we speaking now?”

  Looking as if he’s suppressing a long-suffering sigh, Brahm says, “When did we stop speaking? I believe we had a conversation about water sprites at dinner only an hour ago.”

  I found the creatures in the pond, peering up at me from under a lily pad. Apparently, in typical situations, they will call a human to their death. I, however, am safe because of the protection the tether lends.

  “What would happen if they tried to hurt me?” I asked Brahm, sorting a pile of spring peas with a tine of my fork.

  “It would go badly for them,” he answered cryptically.

  I’ve tucked the information away, adding it to my growing book of mental Faerie knowledge.

  Returning to the present conversation, I ask, “What do you need, Lord Ambrose?”

  Irritation flashes over Brahm’s face for just a moment. Even now, he hates it wh
en I use his formal name. It gives me assurance that he might be as torn up about our relationship—or lack thereof—as I am.

  “Tomorrow is Mother’s monthly masquerade. We will leave in the morning. I’ve already informed Regina, and she said she has ordered something suitable for you to wear.”

  I stare at him, processing that last bit of information. “I’m going to the masquerade?”

  “As my illanté, you will be expected to attend.”

  I’m ashamed of the fear that makes my heart stutter. The idea of facing Brahm’s mother again, and in her lair…

  “It will be fine,” he says, reading my horrified expression. “The illanté agreement will protect you.”

  “Will it?” I ask, uneasy. “I made the bargain with your mother, not you. What if she decides to…”

  I don’t need to finish the thought. We both know what Queen Marison is infamous for.

  He shakes his head. “You and she agreed to the arrangement, but you are my illanté. The tether between us proves it. She can’t hurt you.”

  I slowly nod, wanting to ask him about the tether. Sometimes, when I’m nearing the iron fence, I think I feel it on my wrist, tugging me back. Warning me that I’m not allowed to wander that far.

  “I’ve never been to a masquerade,” I say instead. “Is this one anything like the ones the humans throw?”

  “I have not attended a human masquerade, but I imagine they are similar.”

  “So…you’ll wear a mask?” I bite my bottom lip, trying not to grin.

  Brahm lowers his voice. “Have you missed it?”

  I give him a vague shrug.

  Looking as if he doesn’t want to smile, he clears his throat. “Be ready to leave midday. I want to arrive in Auvenridge before dark.”

  He then turns down the hall, deciding the conversation is over.

  I lean my shoulder against the doorframe, watching him disappear into his room. With a sigh, I close my door, wondering what Auvenridge will be like.

  Terrifying, most likely. And lonely, if this month is any indication.