* * *
“Joris. Isn’t this a surprise?” Maisie gave a thin smile as her second-oldest son entered the kitchen.
“And just in time.” Joris plopped down in the empty chair between Isla and his mum. “How is my little nymph?” He tickled Isla’s neck and pretended to reach for the biscuit.
She grinned and stuck out her chest to show off the vest.
“That’s the prettiest jerkin I’ve ever seen.”
“Vest.”
“Of course.” He glanced at Bronwyn and gave a quick wink.
“You may begin the ration.” Maisie retrieved a plate for her older son and filled it to the edge with food.
“Mum, you’re certainly generous tonight.” He gawked at the mound of food on his plate.
“Remember not to talk with your mouth full, Joris. We have a guest.” Maisie patted her son on the forearm sternly and lowered her brow.
Joris ogled the guest. “Alaura, you add more beauty to this table than a hundred bouquets of delicate flowers.”
Alaura tried to suppress a smile. “I’m sure the flowers would do the ration more justice.”
“I could argue the fact but don’t wish to disagree with one so enchanting.” Joris glanced at Bronwyn. “I’m jealous—little brother has the best view.”
A reddish hue coloured Bronwyn’s neck. He dug his fork into a slice of potato and put it in his mouth, keeping his eyes on his ration.
“Joris, you should eat before it gets cold.” Maisie gripped her son’s arm. “You look unwell. Have you been eating properly?”
“I’m fine, Mum. Never felt better.” Joris stabbed a carrot and propelled it into his mouth.
Between the clinking of silverware, Rhiannon and Loran told Alaura about the new material at their dress shop. Their discussion changed to designs they wanted to try and gossip about a nasty customer who refused to pay full price for anything.
Bored by the women’s conversation, Joris tickled Isla’s side and asked, “How is Liam? Has he stolen a kiss, yet?”
Isla grinned. “Why would he kiss me?”
He leant near her ear. “Because it’s what boys do.”
She pushed him away. “Liam won’t. He’s my best friend.”
“He will. One of these days he’s going to lean in to look at dirt on your cheek.” Joris glided past her defences. “He’ll flash those eyes and cast a Be-still Spell so you can’t move and before you know it, wham!” He kissed her on the forehead. “He’ll steal the first kiss.”
“What if I push him away?”
“He’ll try again. If a boy likes a girl, he’ll keep trying if it takes years. And I know Liam is sweet on you.”
“What if I steal the kiss first?”
“Then I’d say you’re nothing like your das.” Joris glanced at his brother. He bet Bronwyn hadn’t stolen his first kiss from Alaura, yet. But why did she wait—most women would have moved on by now. Could it be bashfulness had claimed her, too?
He heard Bronwyn grunt. When he looked up, his brother frowned at him.
“Isla’s only twelve—too young to think of that stuff.”
“That stuff brings dreams to life,” said Joris. “It makes you feel alive in all the right places—a sensation you can’t get from an immaculate uniform.”
Beneath the table, Maisie discreetly kicked her elder son in the shin and smiled. “Leave room for dessert. I made lemon pie.”
Joris jumped from the surprise as much as from the sharp pain and stared at his mum. “Lemon pie? I love lemon pie.” He bent towards Isla and chuckled. “So much, I think I’ll kiss it.”
Joris watched his brother steal glances at Alaura. He knew of Bronwyn’ infatuation with the enchantress. Everyone knew; it couldn’t be more obvious. Alaura appeared less transparent. Bronwyn could catch her for a mate if he set his mind to the task, but he never used his good looks to his advantage. If Joris had those features he’d know how to flaunt them. Regulations and duty filled Bronwyn’s thoughts. He didn’t know how to live for the moment. He looked sharp and secure in his uniform, but he couldn’t hide behind it forever.
Joris slid his leg out of his mum’s reach. “Alaura, it’ll be dark by the time we finish the ration. I’ll walk you home to make sure you arrive safe.” He saw his mum make the kick, but she didn’t make contact.
“Never you mind, Joris,” said Maisie. “Bronwyn invited Alaura to stay. He’ll see her home.”
Joris didn’t look at his mum. She had always protected her baby, but Bronwyn needed a type of courage he couldn’t get from wielding a sword. “It’ll be no problem, only my pleasure. And Bronwyn can get this little nymph home and into bed.” He patted Isla’s head.
“Thank you for the offer,” said Alaura, “but I’m capable of walking home alone.”
“Nonsense,” said Maisie. “Bronwyn will escort you.” She eyed her son. “Bronwyn?”
“Of course,” said Bronwyn finally, furrowing his brow. “Alaura, it’ll be an honour to protect your virtues from the fiends who roam the streets as well as those with whom we share our rations.” He grinned at her. She looked back with her hand over her mouth to hide her smile. Her eyes sparkled and his gaze lingered.
Joris put a forkful of food in his mouth. He loved his brother and would give his life for him, but he wouldn’t coddle him.
Shadows in the Stone Page 24