“May I join you?”
I almost dropped my tea. Either Alexandra’s arrival had been silent, or I had been too engrossed in my voyeurism. I scrambled to my feet and pulled out a chair for her. “Please. Sit.”
Alexandra gave me her luminous smile as she took the offered seat. The bruising on her face was near invisible, making me envious of her dusky skin tone. Rust-and-orange patterned silk made up her corseted dress, highlighting her vivid tresses.
I was thankful for a steady hand to pour her a cup of tea. “It may be a touch cool.”
“That’s all right. I’m here more for the company than the drink. I heard there was an incident in the salon.”
I wasn’t surprised the story would already be circulating. “It was Rother’s usual bluster.”
“From what I hear, it wasn’t your usual reaction.” Unsurprisingly, the entire account appeared to already be at her fingertips. Otherwise she would be asking me for details. This discussion had a different purpose.
Remembering my promise to be strong, I gave her a noncommittal shake of my head. “I’m fine.”
“It would be normal to be shaken for a while after what happened with Avaston’s men.”
“This had nothing to do with that.”
“Are you sure?” Alexandra’s brow rose as she reached for her drink. “One of the reasons I chose my… specialty here in Delaga House was because I’d nearly been beaten to death by a customer in my early days.”
“Was that when Rother shot the man?”
Alexandra stalled in midmotion, her teacup inches away from her lips. “He told you about that?”
“A few months back.”
“I’m surprised.”
“He was giving me a history lesson.”
“I see.” She took a small sip. “After that happened, I spent weeks jumping at every loud noise. I could barely stand the touch of another person, and anytime a man became remotely aggressive, I relived the whole attack. Not a particularly lucrative response for someone in my profession.”
“Then why didn’t you leave the profession?”
The light in her eyes darkened as she returned the cup to her saucer. “Even here in Marisol, there are some professions people never let you escape from.”
With all the permissiveness in Marisolian society, it hadn’t occurred to me there would be some backlash to Delaga House’s existence. I imagined the people accepted its presence, welcomed it even, but condescended to everyone involved. It would leave them nowhere to go, locking them in this way of life. Their past and reputation would brand them forever. Perhaps Marisol wasn’t so different than Deilia in that regard.
“How did you get past it?”
“I reinvented myself. It wasn’t easy. I had to learn how to control my situation, and how to control my clients. I found there were plenty looking for that sort of encounter.”
“I don’t know if I can reinvent myself into someone more courageous.”
Alexandra reached out and brushed back my hair. “You will. I can see the strength in you. I’ve always admired it.”
I couldn’t help scrunching my face. My previous need to be compliant to Rother had been mostly an act to give me room to work, but recently it was a frightened reply to his exhausting hostility.
“Are you sure it’s me you’re seeing?”
“You’ve been through a great deal in a short amount of time and you’ve grown. There will be a few shaky steps, but I’m confident you’ll come through it.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“I am glad to see you’re enjoying the scenery.” With a slight lift of her chin, Alexandra directed her gaze out to Blythe’s strenuous project. A devilish smile, which couldn’t be misread, curled her lips. My face heated as I tried not to leer at Blythe lifting his shirt to wipe his face. The damp hairs on his stomach drew lines leading down, vanishing beneath the waistband of his pants. Aimed at the ample mound between his….
“I’m just curious as to what he’s building.”
“Blythe is building a small gazebo for the garden. He planned to build it in early spring, but it was set aside for Rother’s trip to Deilia to marry you. The materials have been in the shed for months now.”
Despite the inappropriate sideshow, I was amazed to discover his carpentry ability. “I wouldn’t have expected him to have such a skill.”
“It was a large part of his work repairing the ship he lived on before Rother found him.”
“Is he talented?”
“Very.”
Blythe was a continual surprise. Fiercely loyal and dangerous to his enemies, his lethal hands were capable of creation. I once believed he was nothing more than an uncultured brute. Now I found his flaws to be the greatest asset as he lived his life without pretense or worry of dishonor. I wanted to be more like that.
“So why build it now?”
With a knowing smile, she spoke into her cup as she took another sip. “He knows how much you enjoy the garden and thought you’d like it for your birthday.”
“How did he know it was my birthday?” My thoughts raced as I tried to recall every conversation I’d had with anybody since my arrival. I knew my family hadn’t told anyone.
“Your butler, Samuel, told him the night he spent time with the servants at your house. Apparently Samuel wanted to be sure you were treated well in Marisol.”
I laughed silently to myself. Always professional, Samuel maintained a position of indifference to the family, and I never imagined he cared about my happiness. “Does Rother know?”
“Blythe told me he never got the chance to tell him. Would you like me to?”
“No. If Rother didn’t know ahead of time, he’d think it was a scheme to make him look foolish. Who knows how he’d react.”
“You don’t want to celebrate?”
I winced as by instinct I tried to hold back the truth to save face, but Alexandra deserved to hear it, no matter how pitiful. “When a young nobleman shames his family in front of the Monarch, those privileges disappear. Birthday celebrations ended for me when I turned fifteen. Having some sort of party would only remind me of all the times my brothers were lavished with gifts and praise, even after I became the family pariah. Ask me again next year.”
The admission cost me my newfound composure. I set down my cup before I shattered it in my fist. She covered my shivering hand with her own. “All right. If you say so.”
Long minutes of quiet and her maternal contact allowed me to gather myself again. Alexandra was one of the few people who made my life here bearable. The other was in the garden, hammering nails into planks.
I didn’t want to admit how touched I was by Blythe’s gazebo. It wasn’t made for me specifically—it was planned before I’d arrived—but his desire to complete it brought a touch of light into this uncertain world I lived in.
“Did Samuel tell Blythe anything else about me?”
“I’m not sure. Once Blythe bedded down one of the young men on your staff that night, Samuel didn’t have much more to say to him.”
I snapped my head to face her, my voice louder than planned. “He did what?”
Alexandra met my glare and became all too serious. A tinge of command entered her tone. The type I expected she reserved for her clients. “Now that’s a reaction you need to control better. I’ve already warned Blythe about it. For both of your sakes, you need to as well.”
It took every ounce of my Deilian heritage to steady my pulse, forcing the heat out of my skin. I wanted to say I didn’t understand why Blythe’s past would affect me so, but decided not to lie to myself.
I cooled my response, to practice what I needed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“That’s a good start, but you’ll need to be more convincing. You’re good at hiding yourself, Nathan, but your… connection to Blythe is dangerous. For him and you.”
I knew what she meant. I truly did. But my lessons in preparing for my eventual marriage had been limited to h
ow I could serve my future husband. How I could be his willing slave. Not once did the prospect of how to function in a loving relationship ever become part of the discussion. Nobles didn’t envision such things within the confines of arrangements. Romantic overtures for your partner were a minefield I never learned to cross, and my only teacher had been Rother. How was I expected to know what to do? Caring for another man burned my heart and fluttered my senses.
If only I could have admitted more to Alexandra, but discussing it openly would undermine my every effort to suppress it all. And I needed to be convincing.
“Blythe is my bodyguard. He’s just protective of me. That’s all.”
“Protective enough I didn’t return his pistol to him when you two came back after the assault. He wasn’t pleased, but Blythe doesn’t need the temptation these days.”
“Does Rother think there’s something between us?”
Placing her cup down, Alexandra scooted her chair backward and rose to her feet. “Rother runs a brothel. As far as he’s concerned, everyone is sleeping with everyone. It’s his nature. But don’t give him proper reason or he may run with it. I can tell something changed that night between you two. I’m not asking, and you don’t need to say a word. Rother’s usually quite keen for such things, but he’s been too caught up in Avaston’s shadow to pay closer attention. Let’s keep it that way.” Her voice softened and she cupped my chin. “I don’t want anything else to happen to you. I’m not sure any of us would survive it.”
Her concern warmed me as it always did. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure. Thank you for the lovely tea and the company.” Alexandra leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “Happy Birthday, Nathan.”
I watched her saunter out the door, leaving the screened porch to me. The sound of sawing drew me back to the garden and Blythe’s work. I could imagine the gazebo taking shape and pictured myself enjoying the foliage up close while sipping a cup of tea, pretending I’d escaped to a jungle in some far-off distant land.
I chuckled at the fantasy.
A bell ringing pulled me out of my thoughts. Was it time already?
I hurried to the front door while trying to not be obvious. The decorators’ noise nearly muffled the sound. I wasn’t surprised no one had noticed, but I’d tuned myself to wait for the bell.
Opening the door, I found the postal deliveryman. The overstuffed satchel strapped across his chest threatened to capsize him. Slender and copper-headed with a toothy grin, he produced a notepad with an ongoing ledger.
“Please sign, sir.”
I signed with the pencil he carried and in return he handed off a small bundle of mail.
“Anything to send out today, sir?”
I barely glanced his way as I paged through the envelopes. “Not today. But soon.”
“Have a good day, sir.” He tipped his hat and trudged back along the path, struggling with the weight of his burden.
I closed the door and went back to my collection. One sealed letter addressed to me caught my eye. With a swift turn, I spied the area to be sure no one could see me. Satisfied I was unnoticed, I stuffed the envelope into my vest. The remainder of the mail I gave to one of the wandering staff to distribute and headed upstairs to the bedroom.
I locked the door behind me once I was certain Rother was somewhere downstairs and opened the letter. Reading the contents, I felt a rise of nervous excitement. All the anger lurking beneath my practiced veneer melted into hope. It was really happening.
There would be more letters to write, but for now I needed to clarify my next step. This careful maneuver couldn’t be rushed, no matter how tempting. I folded the letter back into the envelope and placed it with the other similar items hidden inside the gutted music box.
It was only a matter of time now. Patience.
Chapter 23
“ARE WE finished?”
Try as he might, Rother couldn’t hide his impatience, and I’d taken my time in the clockworkist shop, knowing he had no interest whatsoever in the place. It wasn’t as if I had to fake my excitement. I loved everything inside, and Rother knew it. This was one of my rare excursions outside, and I was in my element. I had no intention of rushing myself for Rother of all people. He could learn to be the odd man for a change. No, I would peruse every trinket and gear and make him suffer with absolute boredom.
I patted the tiny package in my pocket containing the replacement gear for the music box and a few random odds and ends I discovered. “I think so. I have everything I need.”
Rother offered me his arm and I took it to keep appearances. A week had passed since his last outburst, and he’d worked hard to revise his public face after Dahvra refused to serve him dinner in front of the entire staff. It was a tense standoff. A fresh ripple of displeasure vibrated through the house and might have exploded had I not intervened and asked Dahvra to reconsider. Not because I felt sorry for Rother, but making him owe me a small debt through an act of compassion might be worthwhile later.
Back on his best behavior, Rother suggested we take a trip into town today, bringing Blythe and Alexandra along for company and safety. No doubt it was another attempt to convince his closest people of his kindness and generosity to his husband. Because if they saw me happy and well treated, they would likely spread the good word into the ranks.
The small bell chimed as we exited, signaling the end of my fantasy getaway. With a longing glance over my shoulder, my little world of all things devoted to precision and mechanical harmony bled into one of emotional complication and duplicity. It was a shame I couldn’t stay immersed longer, but even Rother had his limits.
“Said you were gonna hate it, boss.” Blythe had amused himself watching Rother struggle to not come unraveled as I inspected every display and device I could see.
I threw a comment over my shoulder at Blythe. “You survived it.”
He grunted and didn’t respond further. I half rolled my eyes, playing my part. Blythe had been creating distance between us since Rother’s accusation in the salon, barely speaking to me unless necessary. It was smart. We needed the separation to defuse Rother’s assumptions. Blythe wasn’t being cruel. No snide barbs flew at me, only disinterest. I knew it was for my husband’s benefit, but my skill at hiding invisible wounds grew with each new rejection.
Rother grumbled under his breath. “I should have listened to Blythe and waited in the carriage.”
If Rother could see through my facade, he didn’t show it as he groused. Not gloating over his discomfort was challenging, but I managed. “You should be happy. I think I have all I need to finish the music box now.”
“I know what I said before, but there’s no hurry. Take all the time you need.” Rother’s response held all the right penitence. If I didn’t know what a gifted actor he was, I might have swooned.
But I hadn’t forgotten, and I’d become quite an actor myself under his tutelage. I pasted the requisite amount of gratitude on my face. “Thank you. I want to be sure it’s working properly before it’s reinstalled into the salon. The customers deserve that much.”
“Where shall we go from here?” Alexandra straightened her gloves while matching our casual gait. She appeared calm to the casual observer, but I could see the wariness in her eyes as she peered into every corner and doorway.
Rother also gave the impression of being unconcerned. “I think most of our errands are complete, so I thought we could take a stroll.”
“Aren’t you worried about Avaston’s men?” Alexandra shot a glance at Rother as she moved a step ahead, leading the way, leaving Blythe walking behind us.
“After his last attempt went so badly, I doubt he’d take another risk with the four of us together.”
Blythe’s alertness was far more obvious than Alexandra’s. He stared down every man, woman, and child who veered too close to our group. “I won’t let any of you out of my sight.”
“I have no doubt.” Rother’s confidence did nothing to convince me. Mr. Avaston’s
men had snatched me off the street in the middle of the day. The audacity still confounded me. Inside my favorite novels, high crimes were always performed within the safety of darkness. It showed how little I knew of the seedier side of the world. I couldn’t imagine one failed altercation would have a man such as Mr. Avaston scurrying away, never to be seen again.
I decided to stay in the middle of our group for safety.
The street life’s vibrancy should have entranced me. Attempting not to gawk at the lively interactions and pace so different from Deilia was usually a daunting task. But the specter of my last trip into the city couldn’t be smothered. At the time, Rother’s description of the man’s criminal influence was not intended as a fable to scare me. The truth made him apprehensive as well. Now for some reason, that same uncertainty was nonexistent.
I should have been able to take Rother’s prompt and feel more secure in my company. Blythe would murder anyone who crossed us—I’d seen it with my own eyes—and Alexandra was no fainting damsel. And Rother… well, his capacity for violence was well documented.
No, something was off. Perhaps it was Rother’s lack of concern. His cavalier attitude was either a false show of strength or a symptom of something he wasn’t sharing.
All I could do was smile and pretend my husband knew better.
We walked along surrounded by the standard commotion to be found during the day. Rother took the lead, taking a lazy step from place to place, but all the time directing us on our way. He checked his pocket watch more than once for no apparent reason and continued along.
I spotted a mailbox on our random route, fingering the edge of a letter inside my vest as we came closer. Without an announcement, I slipped it into the slot as we passed and closed the drawer before anyone could examine it.
“You didn’t say you had another letter to send.” Alexandra’s tone reminded me of getting caught stealing a sample of Dahvra’s new batch of chocolate cookies. That woman loved me, but she still rapped my knuckles with a spoon.
Innocence and Carnality Page 30