The Courtship of Julian St. Albans

by Crook, Amy

  “I was,” said Julian, though he stole a kiss before he answered. “I like going out, though I wish I could space it out a little more, and I don’t mind the drive when we’re talking and it’s nice, but it’s a bit torturous when it’s someone dull and I’m trapped in a car with them for that long.”

  “Well, good thing I’m not dull,” said Alex, rubbing noses affectionately.

  Julian giggled and touched the charm through his shirt. “I think that tonight qualifies as one of the most not-dull evenings I’ve had, between having my honour protected by Guardians and my suitor making magic with me.”

  Alex looked pleased. “I’ll have to tell Henry my date won.”

  They all laughed at that, and the rest of the ride was spent in pleasant conversation, the two of them sitting warm and close and comfortable. Alex took Julian to his door and got his goodnight kiss, and then it was over.

  “I think,” he said, as Jones shut the door behind him, “I’m going to sleep for about a week.”

  CHAPTER 23

  In Which We Have a Visitor and Go Out for Brunch

  Alex did indeed sleep very late the next day, and he and his Guardians stayed in, ate leftovers and did no magic whatsoever. Well, they did whatever magic they always did as part of being Guardians, but Alex forced himself to stay out of his work room and rest. He had two whole days off of physical therapy, and he planned to spend them staying off his leg as much as possible.

  He was lounging on the couch on Sunday morning while Jacques cooked breakfast and James maintained the Guardians’ weapons, telling Alex about them as he cleaned and checked them over. “This is my Guard-Knife,” said James, picking up the smallest of all the weapons on the table. “When we leave we’ll both ask if you’ll anoint the crystal for us.” It had a rough, uncut diamond set in the pommel, and it was traditional for a grateful charge to offer a single drop of the blood the Guardian had protected to bless the blade.

  “You wear that under your left sleeve for luck, right?” Alex sat up, interested.

  James unbuttoned his shirt and showed Alex the special sheath, designed and charmed to be durable and comfortable day in and day out, though they’d shed them for the purification within the walls of the Temple. James had already wiped the blade down and checked everything over for signs of wear, so he slipped it back where it belonged before buttoning up. “I’ve seen ones from older Guardians where the crystal shines even through their shirt with gratitude magic.”

  “I’ll add my own to it, I hope,” said Alex with a shy smile. He was about to ask another question when the doorbell rang.

  James immediately began making his own weapons vanish. “Are you expecting anyone?” he asked, keeping out the larger of his two guns. Alex had been surprised to see them, even though he’d known the Guardians modernised themselves with the rest of the world, the better to protect their charges.

  “I’m not… Wait, I’ve got a… Oh. Oh, no,” said Alex, reading the text with a sinking stomach.

  “Enemy?” asked Jacques, who had emerged from the kitchen to retrieve his own arsenal.

  “Worse,” said Alex, flopping back on the couch. “Mother.”

  “Alexander Nigel Frankfurt Benedict, the Fourth, you open this door up right now!” came a strident female voice through the door.

  “Coming, Mother,” called Alex unhappily. He was pleased to see the rest of the weapons had already been banished to their appropriate hiding places as he levered himself up out of the chair. “You two just look menacing, I’ll pretend I was the one in the kitchen, she’d… It will go better.”

  “All right,” said Jacques. He followed Alex to the door, silent and deadly like a proper bodyguard, and even made Alex stand back while he opened it.

  “Is my son here?” said Alex’s mother, looking the Guardian over with narrowed eyes and then peering past him. “Alex, will you tell your young man to let me in?”

  “That’s definitely my mother,” said Alex wryly, and Jacques stepped back and bowed, still silent.

  “Thank you… Oh, dear, what’s that smell?” she said as she walked in, looking around and sniffing disdainfully and removing her coat, which Alex hung up on the rather overstuffed coat tree by the door.

  “That would be the food you interrupted,” said Alex, turning and hurrying to the kitchen. Fortunately, Jacques was too smart to leave the stove on, so the bacon was only a bit extra-crispy and not actually burnt. There was pancake batter next to the pan, too, so once Alex took out the bacon and saved the fat in the cup obviously set out for that task, he wiped the skillet clean and added butter. “Will you stay for brunch, Mother?”

  “Just tea, dear, I was going to take you out but I can see you’re not fit for company,” she said disdainfully.

  Alex was finding it hard to manoeuvre and cook with his cane, but he was determined to make a go of it and keep his mother from finding out his Guardian had also been playing caterer. “I’ll make up a pot once I get these pancakes going,” said Alex.

  “Allow me,” said Jacques smoothly, having silently joined them while James stayed by the door and looked dangerous. Rather than start the tea, he took over at the stove. “You’ve done all the hard work already.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to,” said Alex, giving him a very grateful look. He got the kettle going and warmed the teapot with a quick spell, which his mother reacted to with a predictable moue of distaste.

  “Still doing all that magic nonsense, and now you see where it’s got you,” she said, sitting on one of his kitchen chairs like she was afraid it had the filth of the common people on it.

  Alex rolled his eyes. “Yes, it’s terrible that I’m in the top three contenders for Julian St. Albans’ courtship, or have I fallen since I last talked to Flora?”

  She sniffed, clearly unimpressed. “I do hope he hasn’t seen this ridiculous little flat of yours, you should live in a proper townhouse like your brother Henry.”

  “Henry lives in the family townhouse,” said Alex mildly. “This suits me better, and I’m afraid your hopes are dashed, since we came here for our date last night, after I took him out for a curry.”

  “You did not!” she said, looking appalled and like she might have palpitations.

  Alex, quite used to her ways, was immune to the dramatics. “He enjoyed himself very much.”

  “We played gin,” said Jacques mildly.

  “Alex won,” put in James, in the same deceptive tone.

  Alex poured boiling water in the teapot and willed it to brew faster, limping around to gather fresh milk from the fridge. He even rinsed out the creamer before refilling it, all for an excuse to not talk for a few minutes.

  His mother radiated disapproval on every level. “I don’t know why you don’t have a servant to do these things for you, you oughtn’t be making your Guardians cook breakfast.”

  “I’m used to feeding myself, Lady Benedict,” said Jacques. “Will you be taking Alex out, or shall I serve him a plate?”

  She hmphed. “How quickly can you be properly dressed? And none of that awful black, it’s Sunday morning, wear a bit of colour for once.”

  Alex sighed. “Just let me get a cuppa and I’ll be as quick as I can.” He was suddenly very, very glad he hadn’t let them talk him into a pink or yellow suit he’d just not wear, because he knew his mother would have already found out and be insisting. As it was he’d end up in the awful light cerulean morning suit that Fauna had picked out, as the aubergine would likely be declared too dark for a sunny day.

  Alex sent a tiny bit of magic into the teapot and then poured. It would give the tea a very faint metallic taste, but he honestly didn’t care at this point if it got caffeine into him sooner.

  His mother sighed as she accepted the first cup as her due. “Don’t you have something blue from your shopping?” she asked.

  “I’m certain Fauna has given you a precise inventory of my new wardrobe,” said Alex irritably. “Dissembling is beneath you.”

  She chuck
led. “Wear it with a white cravat and the yellow diamonds, then, the family ones.”

  “Sunshine and happy clouds it is,” said Alex. “I’m going to get changed, you two should have time to eat,” he said, though he did take the time to give them each their tea.

  “We’ll keep Lady Benedict safe,” said James with a nod.

  Alex resisted the urge to tell them it wasn’t his mother that Alex was worried about, instead he slipped away while his mother turned her attention to his two early-rising Guardians who were, fortunately, fully dressed and ready to go. He took his tea with him.

  His shower was quick by necessity, and he dried his hair with a spell while staring unhappily at the awful blue suit. He was going to look like a total prat, but at least, having worn it out with his mother, he might actually not have to wear it in front of Julian. He got dressed, keeping the watch fob his mother was sure to hate and using the silver watch and chain to go with the white gold setting on the cold yellow diamonds. He wore his own bespoke shoes, reasoning that the black would go with his winter coat and cane, and then took a few more deep breaths before emerging.

  The kitchen had been haphazardly cleaned in his absence, just as if his guests were trying to be nice but expected him to do the real work, dishes in the sink and counters cleared. A single cup of tea was waiting on the coffee table, his mother perched on the couch, hands in her lap as she and the Guardians kept up a rather tense silence.

  “Shall we, Mother?” said Alex, stepping forward to kiss her cheek and down the lukewarm tea in just a few gulps with a grateful look at the Guardians.

  Jacques appeared to be trying not to giggle.

  “Oh, now, doesn’t that look lovely? It brings out your eyes,” said his mother. “Well, at least if you’re going to persist in staying thin as a rail, you can be well-tailored.”

  “Thank you, Mother,” said Alex, setting the cup back down. “Where are we off to?”

  “Don’t you have more suitable shoes?” said his mother rather than answering, a habit of hers that never failed to grate on his nerves.

  “No,” Alex replied. He retrieved the nicer of his two coats, checked to be sure he had all the pocket-items he might require and transferring a few things from his other coat while his mother stood and followed.

  Fortunately for him, she was too used to her son’s lack of manners to wait for him to try to manage his cane and still stuff her into her own coat, and got herself bundled up in her fashionable light brown cashmere coat. Her dress was also quite fashionable, knee-length and exactly appropriate to her age, though Alex had to wonder how she coped with the weather in nothing but tights.

  Jacques held the door and James locked up, making sure the lights and stove and kettle were off, and they all trooped down to the car. His mother’s elderly driver, Bradford, held the door for the four of them, face a bit sour as the two Guardians insisted on inspecting the vehicle before allowing either Benedict inside. Alex sat next to his mother to spare his Guardians the torment, and also make it harder for her to pick apart his clothing, posture and general existence.

  “Must you poke about with that stick so?” said his mother, once they were settled.

  Alex sighed. Harder, but not impossible. “Yes, Mother, it’s a medically required stick.”

  The journey went like that, right up until they pulled up in front of the Atrium.

  “Oh, no,” said Alex, staring out at the famous open-air restaurant, with its high ceilings, glass structure and flowering trees everywhere, inside and out. “I am not eating in an indefensible public location just so you can be seen.”

  “I’m afraid he’s right, my Lady,” said James, polite but firm.

  She sighed. “Fine, I’ll see if they’ve got room for us at the Capetian,” she said, pulling out her phone and dialling. Bradford pulled away from the curb and drove them toward the famous hotel and its equally-famous restaurant, which of course was happy to make space for the Lady Benedict and her son. The Guardians weren’t mentioned, and yet when they went in they were led to one of the booths that had been around long enough there were seats to either side to accommodate James and Jacques.

  A coat-check girl followed them, taking all four coats and leaving them with a claim slip. Alex let his mother take care of tipping her and the maitre d’ and just sat, feeling very tired indeed. He took a moment to breathe, tapping the grounding magic in his cane, and when he opened his eyes the world did seem a bit more even-keeled. “Did you want to share the champagne brunch for two?” he asked, opening his menu. “We’ll need to get tea for my Guardians, of course.”

  “Of course,” said his mother, getting herself settled. “That sounds perfect, dear.” Of course, it wouldn’t be nearly enough food for Alex, who was healing physically and magically, but he’d worry about that later.

  The waiter appeared and took their order, only a little nervous as he stood between the Guardians to do so, promising an extra tea tray for them. He was followed by a man with a tray of drinks, water, champagne and pots of tea and coffee. Alex elected to have the coffee, much to his mother’s annoyance; she of course had the tea. The Capetian was much too refined to do anything so mundane as leave the pots on the table, but Alex knew fresh ones would be available at a moment’s notice.

  He took a sip of the coffee and sighed at its rich, smooth flavour. “I may have to concede my family’s got good taste in hot beverages, if nothing else,” he said.

  His mother looked unamused. “The tea in your flat was barely acceptable, you ought to filter your water.”

  Alex chose not to tell her that the funny taste was from him hurrying the brewing, and instead took another sip of his coffee. “It got caffeine into my system, that’s all I cared about at the time.”

  “Well, at least you’ll have an acceptable meal now,” she said. “Now, tell me all about your shenanigans with the St. Albans boy. I want to know if your Courtship is actually salvageable.” Her tone suggested that by “your Courtship” she actually meant “your entire life up until now.”

  Alex managed not to rise to the bait. “I’m sure my siblings have filled you in, Flora’s been keeping very close watch on the gossip, and Fauna’s been helping with wardrobe and gifts.”

  “And now I want to hear it from you,” she said. “Oh, thank you,” she added, as a waiter brought the first part of their meal, croissants in a basket and a plate with fresh fruit and soft cheese arranged together.

  Alex dug in shamelessly, hungry now from his delayed meal. “I think things are going very well, and Julian isn’t much interested in what’s fashionable to wear, think or do, as long as the person he’s with is trying to make him happy,” said Alex. “Therefore, I will continue to make the final decisions on what I wear for, give to and do with him.”

  “And yet here you are in lovely sky blue,” said his mother.

  “That’s because you do care what I wear, and I wanted to please you, Mother,” said Alex, wishing it didn’t sound quite as snarky as it came out.

  Not that his mother would be fooled if he’d been sweet as syrup.

  “Be that as it may,” she said, “I’ll be helping you with the final gift for the choosing dinner.” She took delicate bites of her food, as if berating Alex’s manners with each one.

  “He might have a Masquerade.” Alex took a nice big bite of his croissant, smeared with cheese and a smashed fig.

  She looked surprised at the suggestion. “That would change things,” she said thoughtfully. “Still, you’ll need at least one more gift. What have you given him so far, again?”

  Alex finished chewing and sighed, taking a sip of his coffee. “We bought a charmed pin and cufflinks for bringing love to the heartbroken for the first gift,” he said, “Julian wore those to our tea, and I gave him a potion of Heart’s Ease and some fairy cakes for that. Then I found some small paintings that he’s got in his hallway at home now, and last night I gave him a window box of magical plants with green thumb charms.”

  “You
gave him plants?” she said incredulously. She took a big sip of her champagne, which amused Alex greatly. “Potted plants.”

  “Potted plants,” agreed Alex. “Common ones, too, fairy flowers and ward-thistles and lucky clover.”

  She looked as though she might faint.

  Alex hadn’t anticipated this possible side effect of his gift choice, but he was rather enjoying it. If he had to endure his mother’s ridiculous dramatics, at least it was in public where she would never descend into full histrionics. “He liked them very much,” added Alex, after another big bite of his breakfast.

  She fanned herself, then took another big sip of champagne, nearly emptying her glass. A waiter appeared to swap it out for a fresh one, and refill their tea and coffee as well, and when he vanished another came with their hot food in the form of small, delicious-looking quiches. There weren’t nearly enough of them, but he knew his Guardians would be happy to feed him up when they got home.

  “Thank you,” he said to the waiter, taking a curious sip of his own champagne. It was, expectedly, very good quality, and tickled his nose pleasantly, but he didn’t want to drink too much on an empty stomach.

  He ate one of the warm quiches, which were just one big bite or two small ones, defiantly choosing the former option. His mother was just sitting up to disapprove when someone approached the table that put James and Jacques on full alert.

  “Benedict, how surprising to see you in properly fashionable attire,” said Willoughby, standing a pace back from the table in deference to the scowling Guardians. “And who is this lovely young lady, one of your sisters?”

  Alex just barely managed not to roll his eyes when his mother giggled and put out a hand. “Lady Philomena Benedict, his mother,” she said.

  Willoughby stepped forward to kiss her hand politely. “Charmed.”

  “Mother and I were discussing the Courtship, of course,” said Alex. “How are you faring with your scheduling difficulties?” One of the things that Alex had found out during his gossip session with Flora was that Willoughby really was inundated with relatives, all of whom wanted a piece of his time and to be seen supporting the Courtship. Ironically, they were constantly interfering with his schedule, which everyone felt was hurting the man’s chances at making it another round, despite his early favourable position.