“I am being nice,” I hiss back.
Connor pulls another stack of crated eggs from my hands, taking great care with them as he sets them on the bench. Once we’re finished, he looks into the empty wagon as if he wishes there were more to do. He turns to me, his hands wringing at his waist. “If you get a chance, maybe we could talk.” He looks down, having trouble meeting my eyes. “Alone.”
I’m already shaking my head, about to gently remind him it’s probably best if we don’t, when Mother says, “Lucia’s free right now. Go on, dear.”
I turn to her, horrified. She gives me a nice smile as I glare daggers in her direction.
“Right,” I say. “Yes, fine.”
Like a big blond puppy, Connor bounds down the market street, toward his own stand, no doubt. I can just smell the pickled pigs feet from here. He pauses every so often to make sure I’m following him, and then he stops in front of a shoppe and holds out his hands toward the newly-stitched red awning.
I frown, wondering why we’re here. I read the carefully painted black lettering in the window: Eidelman’s Sausage and Smoked Goods.
“Connor,” I say slowly, a smile building on my lips. “Did your father buy a shoppe?”
The man across from me grins and puffs up his already large chest. “No…I bought a shoppe.”
Laughing, I slap his arm. “That’s wonderful, Connor! Congratulations.”
He bites his lip and looks down, turning red. “Thank you.”
“Can I look around?”
Connor opens the door for me. I’m hit with a dozen smells—most of them more pleasant than the pickled pigs feet aroma that sort of…lingers. There are sausages and hams on display, dried meats and cheeses and all manner of jams and chutneys.
“It’s a beautiful shoppe,” I tell him. There are even little samples on the counter. “It really is.”
He doesn’t answer, and I turn to face him. He twists the bottom of his tunic in his hands, and he diligently avoids making eye contact with me. There’s a sheen of sweat on his brow, and with dread, I realize what he’s going to say before he says it.
“Lucia—”
“Connor,” I try to keep my voice soft. I don’t want to crush him—not again.
He already knows my answer will be no different this time. Crestfallen he nods. “I thought that maybe…with the shoppe…”
I cross my arms, feeling like a wretched human being. I want to comfort him, but nothing I do will help.
“I could buy you fancy clothes,” he says softly. “You wouldn’t have to raise chickens. In a few years, we could buy a nice house, maybe hire a maid even.”
The problem is that I’m not in love with Connor. I like him well enough—who wouldn’t like Connor? But it’s not the same. Surely he knows that. And I’ve already turned down his marriage proposal once—much to my mother’s absolute horror.
“I’m sorry.”
It’s not enough; I know that. But it’s all I have to give.
The bell above the door chimes as a patron walks in, saving us from more of this awful conversation. I look toward the front, and a real smile tugs at my lips. My favorite person just walked in the store.
Sebastian wears an expression of pure delight. “Connor! I just heard from Lucia’s family. This is very fine indeed.”
Connor, still looking heartbroken, tries to hide his emotions. “Thank you, Lord Thane.”
I raise an eyebrow. When did the people we grew up with start calling Sebastian by his title? I know I never did.
Adeline’s right behind Sebastian, and she looks as radiant as the sun itself in her brocade gown of bright yellow. It’s a color most would not be able to wear well, but with her auburn hair, it works.
“Lucia,” she says when she sees me, looking genuinely pleased I’m here. She clasps my arm. “Did you hear? Sebastian’s grandfather is setting me up in his shoppe! And the boutique down the street says they’ll commission gowns from me at my leisure.”
“That’s wonderful,” I say, and I mean it. Adeline’s a pest, true. But apparently, she’s of the parasite variety because she’s managed to grow on me—when she’s not hanging off Sebastian, that is. I’m especially happy to see her now. If there is anyone who can make a man forget they’re in love with me, it’s Adeline.
“Adeline,” I say a little too enthusiastically. “I’d like to introduce you to our friend, Connor. He’s just purchased this shoppe.”
Connor stares at the seamstress, a bit slack-jawed. When she turns, smiling at him, he gulps and reaches for her hand, fingers trembling.
I cringe. I imagine that his skin is a bit clammy, but well-mannered Adeline doesn’t falter. “Do you have cherry cordials? A shoppe back home used to sell them, and I miss them horribly.”
He wets his lips, trying to remember how to speak. “I don’t…I mean, I don’t know what that is.”
“No?” Adeline exclaims. “Oh, they’re wonderful.”
She goes on to explain how the chocolates are made, and Connor soaks up every word.
“I don’t make candy,” he says, sounding as if he’s apologizing for singlehandedly ruining all her hopes and dreams. “But I will ask around for you.”
“You’d do that?” Adeline beams. “That would be lovely.”
Anything for Adeline.
That’s all right. At least Connor doesn’t look like he’s going to cry now. There’s something heartbreaking about a full-grown man getting all misty-eyed—especially when you’re the cause of it. It’s physically painful to witness. When I refused Connor’s marriage proposal the first time, he full-out bawled. That was excruciating.
“Come on,” Sebastian says quietly, his breath tickling my ear. “I’ll get you out of here.”
My knees almost give out, and every single nerve in my body sings. I think of the kiss on my knuckles last night, and I go warm. The simple memory of something so innocent shouldn’t make me feel like I’ve dived into a hot spring.
Adeline’s found a stool, and Connor’s telling her about pig farming. She nods and asks questions, though I cannot believe she’s the slightest bit interested.
“We’ll be back in a few hours, Adeline,” Sebastian says as he guides me toward the door. “Congratulations again on your new shoppe, Connor.”
Connor, realizing that we’re not only leaving, but that we’re leaving together, opens his mouth, ready to beg me to continue our conversation—a conversation I believe is done. Determined not to be trapped, I duck out the door, calling a chipper goodbye as I escape.
“What did we interrupt?” Sebastian asks as we head down the street. “I know it was something because I saw the panic-stricken look on your face when we walked in the door.”
Uncomfortable, I fidget my hands. “Nothing.”
“Really? Because according to your mother, the two of you are engaged.”
I stop in the middle of the street, so appalled I’m practically sputtering. “What did she say?”
Sebastian gives me a half-smile, but there’s irritation behind it. Perhaps he doesn’t find the situation all that amusing. “Only that Connor’s doing extremely well with his new shoppe—a shoppe he bought just so he could convince you to be his bride. Oh…and she’s thinking an early winter wedding. She’d prefer spring, but that gives you too much time to ‘run away again.’”
A headache begins at the base of my skull, spreading to the back of my head and shoulders. “I knew we shouldn’t have come home. I told you.”
“She cannot make you marry him.”
“No, but she can make my life miserable while I’m here.”
He doesn’t have a chance to answer. People stop us every few feet as we walk down the street, all acquaintances and friends from our childhood years. It doesn’t matter that we haven’t lived at home for two years. It’s like we’re back and nothing has changed. Nothing except for the fact that the girls look at Sebastian as if he is some kind of rare and noble unicorn, and all the men want to be his closest fr
iend. They call him “Sir” and “Your Lordship” and other such nonsense.
My headache grows.
I take a long, deep breath when we leave the market district behind, glad for the thinning crowds.
Reshire lies in a valley surrounded by mountains. They tower over the city, pressing in on all sides. Constant snow graces the highest peaks at all times of the year, even in summer, and the alpine valleys are teeming with wildflowers and wildlife. We’ve reached the farms on the outer edges of the city, neither of us with a particular destination in mind.
This is the part of our province I have missed. Fat, orange pumpkins grow in a field dotted with pine trees. The fruits peek from huge, spiny leaves. Soon the frost will kill the vines, leave them withered and brown, and the gourds will be ready for winter storage.
It’s my favorite time of year. The shoppes are already preparing for the cold months. Soon, they’ll be serving hot apple cider in the streets, and farmers will harness their huge draft horses to sleighs and come into the city to give children rides. My father does every year.
“What will you tell him?” Sebastian asks after we’ve walked in comfortable silence for nearly a half-hour.
I look at him, startled. “Who?”
He keeps his eyes in front of us, on the familiar dirt road that leads into the trees. “Connor.”
I jog two steps ahead of Sebastian, walking backward in front of him so he’ll have to meet my eyes. “Are you serious?”
As I hoped he would, he stops. Then he crosses his arms and peers at the nearby field. “He’s doing very well, Lucia. You could do worse.”
A painful knot coils in my belly, wrapping around itself like a cold, slimy serpent. I try to find the words to answer him, but my throat thickens, and I can’t think. Shaking my head, I turn forward, continuing with my back to him.
Sebastian stops me with a soft hand on my shoulder, and I wince.
“I’m not saying I want you to accept him.” His words are voiced so quietly, they’re almost a whisper.
I don’t trust myself to look at him, so I nod instead.
“We need to talk.”
I swallow the hard lump in my throat. “I don’t want to.”
We both know where this discussion leads—nowhere good. Logically, I already know we will never be together. I’m not a fool. Lords don’t marry chicken girls.
But somehow, by avoiding speaking of this affection growing between us, it feels as if I can prolong the inevitable. The longer I deny it, the longer I deny the pain.
Of course, I know it will make the pain all that much worse in the end.
“Lucia—”
I swing back, begging him with my eyes. “Please. Leave it alone.”
He rubs his hands down the sides of his jacket as if he’s nervous. But what makes me panic is the defeated sag of his shoulders.
“What’s happened?” I demand.
Sebastian has always taken his time when it comes to saying important things. He thinks about his words, tests them like he would a move in a game of chess. I’ve learned to deal with it—to be patient in fact. But right now, I want to take him by the shoulders and shake the words out of him.
“Grandfather thinks—”
“Never mind,” I cut him off and continue walking. “Nothing good ever starts with those words.”
“He thinks it’s time I take on more responsibility with our investments,” he blurts out in a manner contrary to his nature.
It’s not exactly what I thought he was going to say. I figured Lord Thane decided it was time for Sebastian to find a wife. A wife who isn’t me.
“That doesn’t sound so bad.” I shrug. “What does that mean exactly?”
Sebastian crosses his arms and looks at something over my shoulder. “He said it’s time I stop playing lovesick adventurer with you and do something useful with my life.”
My heart nearly seizes. “Lovesick?”
“His words.”
“Are you?” I pause. “Lovesick?”
He stares at me, his face a perfect mask, giving nothing away. I stare right back, refusing to relent.
Finally, he gives in. “You know I…”
Then he shakes his head, unwilling to finish.
“What, Sebastian? I don’t know. Tell me.”
Why can’t he say it out loud? He hints and whispers, but that’s not enough.
“Fine.” I look away when he doesn’t answer. “What are you going to tell your grandfather?”
If Sebastian complies to Lord Thane’s wishes, I will be out of a job. I’ve already seen how I do at this on my own, and it doesn’t end well.
We are partners. We complete each other. We need each other. Or maybe I just need him.
Slowly, he drags his eyes away from the forest, and our gazes meet. “I don’t know.”
Two years as partners, and he doesn’t know. I have no desire to walk farther, and I turn back to Reshire. He can follow if he likes.
Before I can walk past him, Sebastian grabs me by the shoulders. “Tell me what to do.”
“I don’t understand why you can’t take on more responsibility with your family business and still continue ours. If anyone is capable of multitasking, it’s you.”
“You’re missing the point.”
“And what’s that?”
Sebastian lets out a long sigh, apparently loathing what he’s about to say. “You, Lucia. You are the point. You are his problem.”
“What did I ever do to make him hate me so?”
“You didn’t do anything. He just…”
I step up to him, nearly fuming. “Doesn’t want you ‘seduced’ by the likes of me? Right? He sees me, and he sees a calculating girl with her sights set on your title, your land, and your money.”
“He doesn’t know you.”
My anger slowly ebbs, not because we’ve come to a resolution, but because I already knew all of this. It doesn’t come as a shock; it’s not some great surprise.
I will never be good enough for Sebastian, not according to Lord Thane. I’ll never be noble enough or rich enough or enough of a lady. And it doesn’t matter how much I love him, nor that I would spend my life doing everything in my power to make him happy and content. All that matters to Lord Thane is that I am a chicken farmer’s daughter, and I am not good enough for his grandson.
And that not only makes me sad, but it also makes me tired. Tired of trying, tired of hurting, tired of aching for something that will never be.
“Tell me what you decide,” I say as I start walking toward the city.
“Lucia, stop.” Again, Sebastian pulls me back. “We’ve worked too hard to give it all up.”
I have no idea if he’s talking about our business or our relationship.
“I’ll make this right,” he promises.
CHAPTER FOUR
Fancy Meeting You Here
“Lucia!” a plump and pretty woman about my mother’s age calls across the street as soon as we enter the market district.
She hurries forward, pausing only to let a wagon roll by. My mouth stretches in a genuine smile when she takes me by the shoulders and looks me over. “Hello, Gladia.”
The chandler’s wife gives me a horrible scowl. “It’s been six months, Lucia! Six whole months since you’ve visited.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, grinning. “I’ve been busy.”
She raises a brow. “I’ll bet you have. If half your mother’s stories are true, you’ve been up to your neck in trouble.”
“They’re true,” Sebastian offers.
Gladia turns her attention to him and offers a warm smile. “How are you, young Lord Thane?”
“I’m well. Thank you.”
“I suppose you’re going with your grandfather to the duke’s soirée tonight?”
Sebastian shoots me a guilty look and then nods. “Yes, Ma’am.”
“Then you’ll have time to visit me, Lucia. Dinner’s at eight. Sharp.”
“All right,” I murmur
. “Thank you.”
After a quick goodbye, she rushes off.
“Soirée?” I ask, unable to meet his eyes.
“Grandfather’s sister has moved back to Reshire. They’re hosting a welcome dinner in her honor.”
Lord Thane’s sister, who happens to be our province’s ruling duke’s aunt. Just another reminder of how Sebastian and I are worlds apart.
“Have fun,” I say, pretending as if I don’t care.
“Adeline specifically asked if we could bring you.” He touches my arm. “Grandfather wasn’t open to the idea.”
“Adeline’s going?” My voice rises an octave. “And why didn’t you ask if I could go?”
“Because I knew the answer,” he says, that familiar note of irritation gracing his voice.
“Have you met her before?” I ask, changing the subject. “Your aunt.”
He adjusts his jacket and brushes imaginary dust from his doublet. “No. She moved across Kalae when she married, and she visits rarely. Grandfather’s seen her a time or two, but I know little about her.”
“Does she have any children?”
Frustrated, he turns to me. “Why?”
I shrug. “I’m trying to be cordial, Sebastian. Isn’t that a trait you’ve often said I needed to improve?”
He purses his lips, trying not to smile. Giving in though I’m still angry, I grin and cock my head to the side, challenging him.
“Can you find your way back to the stalls?” he asks instead of answering. “I need to be going, or we’ll be late.”
“Are you afraid I’m going to get lost?”
Sebastian leans just close enough my pulse quickens. “No, but I’m a bit afraid you’re going to run away.”
How I wish I could.
***
According to my mother, I’m the most ungrateful, heartless daughter in the world. Why? Because I’m having dinner with a family that is not my own. If she knew I was going in the dress Adeline wore earlier today instead of one of my scratchy, old chicken maid skirts, she’d disown me completely.
“Why did you bring an extra with you anyway? Are you moving in already?” I ask as I stand in front of a mirror inside Sapphire Antiques and Alchemy Supply—Lord Thane’s shoppe.
Greybrow Serpent (Silver and Orchids Book 2) Page 3