by Bree Verity
"Yes," replied Simon, "You've come back to me."
"I have to tell you, you could have knocked me over with a feather when you asked for me," Maisie put in. "You should've seen the look on Lily's face! But I knew it was you back to you straight away."
Diana reached out a hand to Maisie, who took it and chafed it. She turned her eyes to Simon.
"And Captain Littleton?"
Simon smiled wryly. "Lachlan made sure he would never be welcomed in polite society again."
"Poor Captain Littleton," Diana sighed. "If only he had confided in me, we could have come to some agreement."
"Agreement?" Simon's tone was sharp.
"Of a financial nature," Diana replied, feeling sleepy again. "I would have helped him."
Simon smiled. "I am certain you would have," he replied warmly. "That is the type of person you are."
"Can I sleep now?" she asked.
"Yes, my love. Go to sleep." Before he had finished speaking, she had drifted off.
Chapter Twenty-Six.
Diana's sick room held a steady stream of visitors - Lady Edenburgh or Miss Crisp, and even her own father, who had been advised of her injury and who had rushed to be with her.
Another visitor was Mr. Carling.
"My dear woman, I cannot tell you how shocked I was to hear of Captain Littleton's behavior," he said, taking a seat beside her bed and taking up her hand to drop a small kiss on it.
"Indeed, I am not certain what you mean, sir," she replied, not allowing her suspicions to show on her face.
"That he wished to marry you only for your fortune, of course," replied Mr. Carling. "I am truly shocked to hear that his fortune is lost."
"Oh. Apparently, he was already in trouble when he came into his fortune, and his gambling habits and expensive tastes proved his downfall."
"I always told him that he should gamble less," Mr. Carling replied, "Only I, and everyone else, assumed his pockets were sufficiently deep to meet his losses."
"He did not even listen to you?"
Mr. Carling's glance pierced her. "Why should he specifically listen to me?"
"Because you were his best friend, of course."
Diana spoke with all innocence, and the suspicion withdrew from Mr. Carling's gaze.
"Of course."
Diana decided to put all her cards upon the table.
"And what is your opinion of his... predilections?"
"Well." Mr. Carling avoided her gaze. "It is known that such gentlemen exist, of course. Only that is perhaps a matter best left undiscussed. A man's preferences are a matter between him and God."
"That is true. But only as long as they remain between him and God. Captain Littleton sought to trap me in marriage, and then not even offer me the marriage dues." She paused, making sure Mr. Carling understood her words. "I would not hesitate to have my father sue for divorce under those circumstances."
"As would be his right, and yours."
"Mr. Carling." Diana sat up straight in her bed. "What are your intentions?"
"Whatever do you mean?"
"I know that you and Captain Littleton are more than just friends."
The color drained from the gentleman's face. "Was it that housemaid?" he asked. "I told Littleton we needed to take more action."
"No. I saw it for myself."
"What?" Mr. Carling was truly surprised. "We were very careful."
"Nevertheless, you were not careful enough."
"I have broken things off with him, after his behavior of yesterday. I thought him a gentleman. Apparently I was incorrect."
Mr. Carling sat back in his chair. After a pause, he asked, "What are you going to do?"
"That depends on your intentions."
The gentleman gathered his thoughts before, to Diana's surprise, taking her hand again.
"I had intended to marry you, to get you out of the intolerable situation you were in."
Diana's fury rose. "How could you?" She tried to extricate her hand, but Mr. Carling held it firm.
"I am happy in the company of men and women," he said. "And we get along so well, I am firmly of the belief that we could be quite comfortable together."
Diana's head spun and she stopped struggling. She had not even considered whether men who enjoyed the company of men would also enjoy the company of women. The two circumstances seemed incompatible.
"Think about it," continued Mr. Carling. "The marriage dues would be met; you would have your own children surrounding you and a household to call your own. And we do get along well, do we not? I admire everything about you - you are beautiful and amusing and I should be a lucky man to have a woman such as yourself on my arm."
She rubbed her forehead. "It is certainly not a situation I have ever considered." Her thoughts tumbled wildly. Mr. Carling was offering her a solution that would solve all her problems.
"We could have a lot of fun," he urged, apparently noticing Diana's hesitation. "I would not expect your faithfulness, of course. In a marriage of convenience, and especially considering our situation, it would be a little hypocritical of me to do so. Life would be easy; we would be accepted everywhere."
Her thoughts tumbled. He was right. In the eyes of society, they would be a perfectly normal couple. Mr. Carling was a charming companion. He seemed truly disgusted by Captain Littleton's behavior, and Diana was convinced that his offer was genuine.
"And yet I would not be happy."
Until she spoke the words, she had not acknowledged that her happiness relied on a certain doctor. A tiny smile crossed her face, along with a feeling of resolve.
"I do thank you for your consideration, Mr. Carling," she said. "But I cannot accept your offer."
Mr. Carling's smile held a little sadness. "Ah well," he said. "I suppose you cannot win all the time." He let her hand go. "Are we still friends?"
"Certainly," she replied warmly. "I should be pleased to continue to call you my friend."
He kissed her hand again and took his leave.
"Adieu, fair lady. May all happiness come your way."
"What will you do now?"
"I suppose I shall have to involve myself with the debutantes and their terrifying mothers for a while," he said with a visible shudder.
"It is a sacrifice, but I am certain you are up to it," Diana replied seriously, but with a twinkle in her eye. "I wish you the bounty of a well-endowed and well-endowered lady."
With a shout of laughter, he left the room, to be quickly replaced by Simon and Maisie.
"What did he want?" Simon asked suspiciously.
"He asked me to marry him."
"What?" Simon's voice raised, but he brought it back under control quickly. "What did you say?"
"I said that I could not."
Diana struggled to keep a straight face as she watched the relief wash over Simon's expression. He did not know about Mr. Carling - Diana felt it was a confidence that she had owed Mr. Carling until she ascertained his intentions and now, she was glad she had not spoken. Mr. Carling did not deserve the censure that Captain Littleton did. As he had said, it was a matter between him and God.
Simon checked her pulse and looked in her eyes. "You seem much improved this afternoon. If you feel up to it, you may have a little thin broth."
"Thin broth? I could eat a hippopotamus."
Maisie chortled and said, "I shall go find something for you."
"Something light, Maisie," Simon called after her, but Maisie had already disappeared out of the room.
Simon sat on the end of the bed. "How do you feel?"
"My head is still a little tender, but my headache has lessened. And I truly could eat a full roast dinner."
He smiled at her fondly. "You always did have a good appetite."
There was a silence, as Diana struggled with what to say next. After a moment, she said, "Simon, I..."
"I wonder if..."
They both laughed gently.
"You go first, Simon."
He ex
haled quietly, his mouth turned down and his brow clouded. "I am truly sorry we lost contact, Diana," he said. "You have turned out to be a remarkable woman, and I can only blame myself for missing out on those years."
"No," replied Diana. "It is I who am to blame. We were seventeen. I knew that you were not in love with me. But I could not bear the thought of you leaving to study. It was selfish of me to declare myself to you."
"That is not true," he said and at Diana's raised brow, he chuckled. "Several parts of what you said are not true. It was not selfish. And," he leaned forward to take her hand, "I was in love with you."
Diana's heart flipped. "You were?"
"So much, Diana, that it frightened me. I ran away from you that day because I was not certain I could contain my feelings."
"But you did not even kiss me."
"If I had, I was not certain I could have stopped."
Diana considered this for a moment. "That would not have been ideal," she said slowly, "But if you truly did love me, we could have married anyway."
"I was just starting what would be several years of physicians training," Simon argued. "I could not marry you under those circumstances. And the violence of my feelings was such that I did not think I could remain near you without compromising you in some way."
"It did not cross your mind to speak to me of these things?"
He gave her a crooked smile. "As you said, we were seventeen. I did not know how to articulate what I was feeling." His face turned serious and his eyes darkened. "But I do now." He slid closer to Diana, so that he could gather her up in his arms. "I love you, Diana. I always have. But since we have been in close proximity these past days, I have come to love you even more, for your fearlessness and your tolerance and your acceptance of people. You are a truly remarkable woman."
"You have been in close proximity with Lachlan," she chuckled.
"You know what I mean. Leaving to go on the mail, knowing that you might be thrown in with all kinds of people took courage. And then your open acceptance of Chastity Maude, knowing what she was but ignoring that in favor of who she was - that took moral fortitude. You would make a wonderful doctor's wife."
"Oh?" She tilted her head, her blue eyes questioning. "Are you asking me to marry you, doctor?"
"Indeed I am."
Before Diana could respond, Simon had pressed his lips against hers. She could feel the pounding of his heart, every bit as fast as her own, and the rush of blood through her veins as Simon's kiss brought every nerve to life. She brought a hand to his cheek, and he released her, pushing her hand away and taking her face in his hands and kissing her again, on the lips, but then trailing across her jaw and down her throat. One of his hands twisted itself in her hair.
She felt the breath leave her, felt a warmth in her belly she had not known before. She yearned for Simon, craved his touch, his kisses, his closeness. Suddenly, she realized these were the feelings he had described, the ones that he had been afraid of.
But she was not afraid. She returned his kisses and caresses with fervor, letting her hands rest on his lower back and making a small mewling sound that seemed to impassion Simon further.
"Oh, Diana, you will be the death of me," he moaned, and she felt a moment of heady power. Simon belonged to her, and she belonged to him. Every piece of her.
She heard someone clear their throat and reluctantly parted from Simon, who stood up.
Maisie entered the room carrying a tray laden with food. "I was not able to find a hippopotamus," she said, "but I did what I could. It seems to me you are going to need to replenish your energies." She winked at Diana, who smiled at her and then turned to Simon and said in a voice of mock severity, "You did not even give me the opportunity to respond."
"Poor form of me, for certain. Should I repeat the question?"
"There is no need. The answer is yes."
Despite Maisie's presence and her protestations that he would upset the tray, Simon kissed Diana again, swiftly and passionately. As he pulled away from her, she looked into his gold-flecked eyes and said seriously, "I love you, Simon Moore. Don't you ever leave me again."
"I never shall. I swear."
And, sealing their pact with yet another kiss, they lived happily ever after.
Chapter Twenty-Seven.
"Well," said Lachlan. "That's that done."
"Yes," replied Fenella, a wide smile on her face. "And she is so happy, isn't she? Look at the colors in her aura."
"Her aura? I didn't think you could read auras."
Fenella's brows rose. "I couldn't," she said, surprise in her voice. "But Diana's aura, and Simon's, are simply leaping out at me." She turned to Lachlan, squinting. "Thankfully, your aura is still muted," she said. "What do you think caused this?"
Lachlan shrugged. "Perhaps the deepening of your blackdark powers?"
They were silent for a moment, both contemplating the display screen that showed Diana and Simon, and probably, Fenella thought, her future as well. She knew she was contemplating it.
"So, what are you going to do?"
Lachlan's tone was far too measured, and Fenella knew her words had weighed heavily on him. They also weighed on her.
"I don't know," she admitted. "I just can't tell what the best course for me is."
She was frustrated - she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she could do good, she and Phineas together, with their blackdark skills. If there was one case of soul sickness, there would be more.
Besides, she had so much to learn about blackdark. Nazryth had invited her back at any time - perhaps it would be best if she did that, learned about her gift, used it for the good of fae-kind.
But what if the fables about happily ever afters were true? If they all stopped creating happily ever afters, would the gods be angered? Would they have to go back to sacrificing souls to hell?
Then again, if only she - Fenella - stopped being a fairy godmother, what difference would that make in the real scheme of things? After all, she was only one person.
Lachlan had watched her thoughts flit across her face - she knew he could read her. His saddened expression said more than his words.
"Perhaps you should delay the decision? Hold off for a while. Finish your apprenticeship and then decide what to do?"
It was good advice. She would have time to research - in both fairy godmother lore and blackdark. She could visit Ravyn headquarters, develop her skills a bit more, and also try to find out for certain what would happen if happily ever afters were no more.
And the winks of light that she saw when she looked out over London would be satisfied.
She nodded slowly. "Alright," she said. "I'll wait."
"Until your apprenticeship is done?"
"I can't promise that. But I will wait."
"You know I will have to lodge a censure of your behavior for abandoning your godchild?"
She looked at him sharply. "Why? You know I was saving someone else's life."
"You went against the First Imperative. You nearly destroyed the happily ever after, and two people's happiness along with it."
"But there was a good reason," she insisted.
"There is no reason better than the First Imperative."
She could tell Lachlan fought against himself to deliver the words. Still, she hated him in that moment, hated his strict adherence to the Imperatives.
"Fine. Do what you will." She turned away from him. "My conscience is clear."
"What will you tell the tribunal?"
She paused. She could not tell them the truth - blackdark was still outlawed, even if she had discovered that it was unfairly maligned.
"That I was saving a life."
"They will want more of an explanation than that."
At Lachlan's words, Fenella lost her temper. The sparks in her eyes fired up ruby red and black smoke started to wind around her ankles. "You know what, Lachlan? I don't care. They can throw me out of the corps, if their silly rules preclude me from saving a child's li
fe. In fact, I hope they do. At least then I'll know what I need to do."
Fenella never cried. Never. It was a weakness she refused to indulge in. But she felt the tears scalding in her eyes, fat drops rolling down her face.
Lachlan stood before her, silent. All he had to do was to open his arms and Fenella flew into them, her tears coming hard and fast. Lachlan stroked her hair.
"Shh Fen. We will work it out. You'll see."
But right at that moment, Fenella was not sure it was even possible.
And she cried harder.
Can Fenella reconcile her blackdark magic with the needs of being a fairy godmother? Is it even possible? Find out in the next story, Lady Mary's Muddle...
Lady Mary's Muddle - Excerpt
Lady Mary Pascoe dropped her fork on her plate with a clang and stared at her father in startled horror.
"Did you just say you had accepted a proposal for my hand from Sir Prosperine?"
"Indeed, I did," he replied with a smug smile. "A fine fellow, Mary, a very fine fellow indeed. Will make you a capital husband."
He disappeared behind his newspaper as Mary turned to looked at each of her three siblings and her mother in turn, in silent entreaty, only to find the same stricken expression on all of their faces as she suspected was evident on her own.
Her mother gave a nervous laugh. "There must be some mistake, Duke," she said, her lace cap quivering over her golden curls. "Mary was set to marry Sir Percival Pound."
Eh?" Her father glanced out from behind his paper, his sharp gaze on Mary. "What's this?"
Mary glanced down at her untouched plate and found that even looking at food made her a little nauseous. The usual merry ringing of cutlery that accompanied breakfast had fallen silent. Mary's sisters and brother waited in anticipation of what would happen next.
"I favored Sir Percival's suit, Papa, not Sir Prosperine's."
Her father flicked the corner of his paper, a sign that he was a little rattled. "Saw the declaration you sent him myself. All right and proper. He ran straight over here this morning after he received your Valentine."
"I sent him a vinegar Valentine, Papa." Mary kept her tone modulated, even though she was starting to be agitated in the extreme. "I wanted to depress his pretensions."