by Dayna Quince
Nic set down her fork with a sigh and met Luna's gaze. “I can feel you watching me, you know.”
“That is not at all surprising. I was staring very intently.”
“Please don't. It's annoying.”
“I'm worried about what has you so exhausted.”
“I've already told you. Having trouble sleeping in the bed by myself. Perhaps I ought to share a room with Odette.”
“That's an excellent solution. Or you can stop lying to me.” Luna whispered the last bit.
Nic narrowed her eyes at Luna. “And if I told you instead to keep your nose where it belongs, how would you reply?”
Luna drew back. “You're my sister. Why would I hide my concern for you?”
“Because it is unwarranted. You're just being intrusive, as usual.”
Luna blinked.
I'm intrusive? Since when?
She shook her head at Nic and turned back to her food. There was no point in starting an argument at breakfast. But it was very unlike Nic to act this way. It was true she was closer to her twin than any of the other sisters, but Luna would rank herself as the second closest to her, being as she was just above Nic in the birth order. If she was going to get to the bottom of the issue and help her sister, whatever it was, she would have to ask her when they weren't surrounded by others.
Perhaps Nic was just embarrassed. But she shouldn't be because Luna herself was doing something she ought not to be doing, and it very well might lead to true love or something terrible. She cleared her plate, feeling drowsy after having risen so early herself.
Luna accepted another cup of tea from the footman and swiftly drank it. She wondered what coffee might taste like but had never had the occasion to try it. She just might on this morning and maybe offer some to Nic. Luna waved the footman over and asked for a cup. She nudged Nic with her elbow.
Nic was rubbing her temples. She cut a glare to Luna. “What?”
“I thought you might like to try a bit of coffee. It has more energetic effects than tea, I do believe.”
Nic shrugged, so Luna pushed a cup of coffee under her nose and waited. Nic looked down at the cup with interest and then picked it up and sniffed it. The chair on Nic’s other side scooted back, and who should fill it but Mr. Denham.
“Don't,” he warned. “One taste and you'll never be able to give it up. It has the same addictive qualities as I do.”
Luna bristled. She didn't like this man one bit. Not after all his teasing and brooding and the strain he caused his brother. He did not seem like a professional spy, as it was his brother who carried all the weight of responsibility and the injuries. She wondered just how it happened, how Callen came to be injured and his brother wasn’t. Not that she could say anything here in front of Nic. Luna took a sip, defiantly meeting his gaze, but his attention was all for her sister.
Nic smiled and took a sip. “Hardly addictive. I don't think I care for it at all.”
Luna clenched her teeth. Was Nic flirting with Mr. Denham? She would not have it. Luna would not let her sister be swayed by such a rogue when she had no way of knowing what type of man he was because she didn't know the truth like Luna did.
“I hope you took care of all your responsibilities this morning, Mr. Denham,” Luna said. His gaze moved to her, reluctantly she would say. As if he cared not to have his pleasure of staring at Nic ruined by her.
She was about to ruin much more than that. She'd slip some Wheel Wart mushroom powder into his next meal, and then he'd really have something to be displeased about. Not that he’d die. No, she could never be that ruthless, but he certainly wouldn't be able to leave his chamber pot.
“Why yes, I did Miss Lunette. My brother and I took a hearty walk around the gallery before coming down to breakfast. He felt the need to stretch his legs after spending the evening in bed with a headache.”
“I can only imagine what a relief it was to have your help,” Luna said.
“Indeed. He was ever so grateful for my company, and alas, how was your morning?”
Nic had turned to her, so she didn't see how Mr. Denham narrowed his eyes and smiled slightly.
“I have had a busy morning as well. I woke extra early, before the sun was even up. And took care of all my responsibilities.” She held his stare. His gaze narrowed further.
“Bully for you, Miss Lunette. I feel like I haven't slept at all.”
“You certainly look it,” Luna murmured into her coffee before taking another sip. She didn't like the taste, but she wasn't about to show her dislike in front of him. She'd already heard enough comments from her father about coffee being too strong for women. She wasn't going to give Mr. Denham the same satisfaction of seeing how much she disliked the taste. It wasn't that it was strong. It was horribly bitter. The smell did not translate into a good taste.
“You know, I must tell you about this marvelous dream I had.”
Must you?
She didn’t care about any of his dreams. She peeked past him to his brother, who was sipping his own coffee and still speaking with Lord Selhorst.
“You see, I was having trouble sleeping as I do most nights. I really don't like sleeping alone, and so I took my violin down to the beach. This is where the dream began. I wasn't really at the beach. It was more like fantasy really, and I heard the most beautiful voice I have ever heard.”
Something about his tone caught her attention, and Luna refocused on him.
“The moon was high, the wind blowing, clouds racing across the sky in little fluffy clumps, but that voice, it gave me chills. Not the eerie kind that makes you think there's a ghost lurking nearby, but the spiritual kind as if you're hearing an angel or witnessing a miracle firsthand.”
Luna was captured by his voice now, and what's more, so was Nic. Her hands gripped her cup tightly, her knuckles white, and she was entirely focused on Mr. Denham and he on her.
“And wouldn't you know it, in my dream,” he said, his voice taking on a mesmerizing quality that neither she nor her sister could look away from. “There was a mermaid in the water, waving to me. And once she'd caught my attention, she raised her voice to the starry sky and sang the most beautiful song I had ever heard. A wicked tune filled with debauchery, and I found myself helpless to resist her as I waded into the water, certain of my impending doom. But I didn't care. That voice had captured me, and I relished death in that moment as long as I could never stop hearing that voice.”
“Did you die in your dream?” Luna asked. She didn't think it was possible. In all her dreams where she faced impending death, such as a being chased by dogs or falling, she always awoke just before.
“I did not," he answered. “The mermaid saved me, and she took me into the deep with her and ravished me with her voice and her—"
“That's quite enough of that,” Callen interrupted and the spell Mr. Denham had cast over them with his lurid retelling of his dream broke. Luna was quite happy to be rescued by Callen. She couldn't stop herself from smiling at him.
“Good morning, Lord Densmore.”
“Good morning to you, Miss Marsden, Miss Nicolette. I hope my brother is behaving as he ought, not spinning tales again.”
“He was telling us about a dream with a mermaid,” Nic said somewhat defensively to Luna's ears.
What was happening here? She didn't like the tension between her sister and Mr. Denham. It didn't bode well. He may have been invited here as a possible candidate for a husband, but now that Luna knew the truth about him, she would never allow it. His own brother didn't trust him.
“May we escort you to the drawing room, my brother and I?” Lord Densmore clarified.
“Yes,” Nic said and quickly stood, accepting the arm Mr. Denham offered her. They didn't even wait for Luna and Callen but hurried from the breakfast parlor. Luna and Callen looked after them.
Callen offered his arm. Luna was nervous as she touched her hand to him. She'd gotten quite used to touching him but not so publicly. Most of the time they'd spent
together they'd been alone, and she was afraid to admit that was how she liked it.
“Is it just me or…” he whispered to her.
Giddiness filled her chest like a swarm of butterflies. The intimacy they shared when alone felt just as real between them now. Proof that it wasn't an allusion.
“There is definitely something happening between those two. And if it involves your brother, it can't be good."
He sighed. “As much as I wish it otherwise, it's true. I would hope getting married might settle him down, but I'd be wary of tying anyone to him for life, let alone someone I know such as your sister.”
“He wouldn't seriously court her, would he? I mean, you and he aren't here to…” Her heart gave a pang of sadness before she said it, but it was the truth, at least for right now. “You're not here to court anyone, not really.”
Their stride slowed as they approached the drawing room.
“I wish I could say otherwise, but no, my brother and I are here for a different purpose than courtship.”
All the air seemed to leave her lungs, and it hurt as if her feet had come out from under her and she’d landed on her bottom. Leaving her empty of breath and all her muscles screaming in pain from the shock. Fate wouldn't do this to her, would it? There had to be a reason he was here, a reason she was the one to notice his injury and help him.
“What about after?”
“After what?”
They paused before the door to the Queen’s drawing room, and for the moment, they seemed to be alone, but one never knew in a castle this size. The servants moved around seamlessly, as inconspicuously as if they were part of the decor.
“After your mission is over,” Luna whispered, “what happens then?”
He turned to face her. “I'm not sure it will ever be over,” he whispered back.
All the giddiness, the butterflies, the hopes and dreams, they died.
They went dark inside her, like when the sun dips below the horizon and the world changes color, turning dark and dreary, quieter, lonelier.
The sun had set inside her, and she didn't know if it would ever arise again.
Was this what heartbreak felt like? Had her heart become so involved that the mere shadow, the mention of his eventual leaving could break it? She hoped he couldn't see all these desperate emotions on her face.
She nodded. “That makes sense. With a position like yours, the work never ends.”
Luna spun away and entered the drawing room, not on his arm, and he followed behind her, his gait slower and a bit stiff. But she couldn't risk meeting anyone's gaze. Not that anyone was paying attention to them because Violet, the duchess, was announcing the day's festivities, and she and Callen were the last to arrive.
Luna found an empty chair against the wall where everyone would have their back to her, and she tried to compose herself. She didn't think he would follow her but he did, and he leaned against the wall at her side. For some ridiculous reason, it was a comfort to her.
Even though he had been the one to deal the blow.
Did he even know? Did he understand?
He bent his knee and slouched lower against the wall, and she caught the motion out of the corner of her eye and looked up at him with concern. Had he just gone weak? Was he sick? Was he hurting? He bent down a little more, meeting her gaze, but he looked hale and whole. His eyes filled with concern and only for her.
“I'm sorry," he said.
So, he did know. He understood he’d just devastated her heart, her hopes, and her dreams. At least the dream that involved him and her together.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. But… Why then, did you…” She left the question open-ended, hoping he would understand what she was asking.
Why did you kiss me?
He frowned a little, and his gaze returned to the crowd before them. The others talked amongst themselves, and Violet had finished her announcements, but Luna hadn't heard it. She couldn't hear anything beyond the pounding of her heart and whatever his next words would be.
He drew in a breath and then he said, “Because I had to. It might have been my only chance.”
She turned her face away from him, her eyes burning. She could feel the rush of tears, and her cheeks flushed. Her body temperature rose by several degrees as anguish and maddening joy waltzed inside her. She didn't know if she should cry or jump with glee.
His words simply tore her apart and scattered her in pieces that she didn't know how to put back together.
He had to? It was his only chance? Those words were so fatalistic, and yet she clung to them. She'd been right. He was feeling what she was feeling, these insensible, insatiable emotions that demanded more, more time alone, more touching, more everything. But it didn't seem like that was ever going to be a possibility because… She didn't know why.
Because of his mission? Because though fate had brought them together for this moment, it would not keep them together for the next? She exhaled, the bitter taste of the coffee returning to her mouth. She sniffed once and then regained control of herself. She was about to say something but the others joined them, and she had to lock away her feelings until next they were alone.
At least she had that. At least she knew there would be one more time if not a few more times before the end of this party before… Before she lost him forever.
Chapter 13
The following day, they were down at the beach exploring the tide pools. Callen carefully picked a path across some stones, thinking he ought to be sitting somewhere, not tempting fate like this.
He peeked at Luna, hungry for a glimpse of her.
His brother, damn him, had resumed his role as chaperone last night and this morning. Not because he felt it the gentlemanly responsibility toward their reputations, but because he knew how it irked both Callen and Luna.
But Callen knew it was better this way. If his brother wasn't there, the temptation would be too great.
He already wanted to kiss her again.
Every time she smiled or batted her black lacy eyelashes at him or anyone else, he wanted to pull her close and claim her mouth like some Viking warrior who’d conquered a foreign land and taken the most beautiful woman for himself as his bride.
He was being ridiculous.
His heart was heavy and growing heavier as he drifted away from the group and rested his arm on a boulder. He watched the crabs scuttle between the cracks in the rocks, and the waves roll over the beach. Farther out to sea, a ship bucked along the waves. He wasn't certain it was the same ship he and his brother had paid to standby and wait for them, but it may as well be.
It reminded him that all the want in the world would not change the fact he could not offer Luna the dream she deserved, the security and happiness. There simply wasn't room for it when his brother sucked it all away with his selfish antics. Callen turned to glare at his brother, and as if his brother was having the same thought, he returned the glare. Theo was standing by Miss
Nicolette and he smirked, knowing that would annoy his brother. Callen had warned him to stay away from Nicolette and not encourage her to develop any feelings for him. And of course, Theo didn't take anything he said seriously. He didn't seem to care who he hurt.
The thought surprised Callen.
Perhaps his brother wasn't capable of reforming at all if he could toy with the emotions of a girl in Nicolette’s situation without remorse. What did that mean for him? Callen and his parents had all lived with the notion that at some point Theo would change. He would mature, as his father used to say, and he would come to understand that what he was doing was the wrong way to do things.
But what if that didn't happen? What if Theo was simply being Theo and he would always be this way? What if there was nothing Callen could ever do to save him from himself? What if his brother would always ultimately be his own downfall? Was Callen willing to waste his life helping someone who refused to help themselves? His focus turned to Luna. And what price was he willing to pay for his broth
er, who wouldn't pay any price at all?
Something inside him shifted or perhaps simply just broke under the weight of it all. Within him rose that seething rage, not hot, not something that would erupt from him, but the cold emptiness he'd felt after he'd kissed Luna. That despair, the desolation of knowing that the future was not his to control, and yet he was bloody tired of it because it was his future not Theo’s. He didn't give a damn about what made Callen happy. Why should Callen give a damn about Theo?
Because they were brothers? Because—a feminine cry startled him from his thoughts, and he immediately found Luna among the chaos rushing toward her sister, who had fallen on the slippery rocks.
Callen tried to rush to her side to help in whatever way he could, but his foot slid out from under him and he caught himself on the rock beside him, twisting his side. He let out a grunt, and surprisingly, Theo appeared next to him, grabbing his arm and hoisting him up.
“You’re not supposed to move that swiftly, old man.”
Callen glared at his brother as he reached inside his waistcoat, untucked his shirt and felt his bandage. It was damp to the touch.
Blood. He was bleeding. He tucked his shirt back into his waistband and met his brother’s gaze, but he didn't respond to the question in Theo's raised brow. Instead, he looked for Luna again. He needed her and not just because she was his nursemaid, but because it was just fact.
He needed her.
And there she stood, alone, as her sister was being rushed from the tide pools by Roderick, Lord Andrews, and Luna appeared quite distraught.
This time his strides were sure as he went to her. He touched her arm and she turned to him, her eyes wide and filling with tears. She raised both hands as if she was moments away from leaping into his arms, which he would have welcomed.
Damn everyone who saw, but instead, she dropped her hands to her sides.
“What happened?” Theo asked. The rest of the guests were heading back to their mounts for the ride back to the castle.
“Anne slipped and fell,” Luna said. “She said she only turned her ankle, but that she was fine. The wind was just knocked from her for a moment.”