She drew in a breath, crinkled up her cute nose, and said, “You smell.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “Of course I smell! I’ve only been to France, stormed a castle, attempted to rescue a maiden, battled an evil prince, lost the love of my life only to find her again. Well not until after breaking down a wall first—”
“He’s a king now, not a prince.”
“What?”
“Dominic. He’d murdered his parents and now—”
“That knave is not a king any longer either, because he’s dead too.”
“Oh.”
“He fell upon my blade, after....” Christian found he couldn’t relive that by repeating it.
“Oh!” She looked down at her chest, her eyes wide as she recalled what he hadn’t wanted to.
“You’re fine.”
“I am?”
“Yes, thanks to that brilliant spell your parents placed upon you.”
“Oh.”
She was so beautiful he simply had to brush his mouth against every bit of her flesh he could get to. She giggled as his lips tickled the sensitive place on her neck. And he swallowed the sound as he moved his kisses back to her mouth.
“Welcome back, my—Your Royal Highness.” The words came from Jackson, who was peering through the hole with Tabitha.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Should I draw up a bath, my lord?” asked Tabitha.
“A bath?” Contessa said, her kiss-bemused expression clearing and brightening, “I would so love a bath.”
Christian looked at the witch and suggested, “I think two baths are in order.” He showed Tessa his dimple because he knew she liked it. “So I do not trouble you with my foul smell any longer.”
“I could wait, I do not wish to be a bother—” began Tessa.
“My father remodeled, remember?”
“Yes, but for two—”
“We have more than one tank for hot water, therefore, there is plenty for both of us to enjoy a bath.”
He couldn’t help but return the smile she gifted him with. After holding her gaze for a moment, Christian kissed her nose and then tugged her from the bed, to the door, or rather the hole, and helped her through it.
Relieved to be clean and out of his ripped and bloody clothing, Christian reached into the collar of his white shirt where his chain was. He’d been informed that Tabitha had gone back out to the mist to free the fey king and queen. Apparently she’d figured out the right combination of spells to remove the magic.
His fingers caressed the engagement ring and he decided he needed to have it back on her finger. After shoving his feet into a pair of polished shoes, buttoning up a ruby-red waistcoat, tying a white necktie around his collar, and shrugging into a velvet frock, he left his chamber for hers, and knocked.
Hearing her soft call for entrance, he twisted the handle and let himself in. When she saw who it was, she blushed furiously and turned back to the fire where she sat brushing her hair to dry it. Running a hand through his damp mess of hair, he realized he hadn’t bothered with the same. Not that he cared.
“Christian, I am not dressed,” she said when she noticed he was still standing there.
Undeterred by her words he came up behind her and straddled the ottoman she was seated on. Leaning forward so his chest touched her back, he whispered, “I’ve seen you in less than this modest dressing gown.” By the way the thin material draped her body, he could see she wore nothing beneath it and his voice came out huskier than he’d intended. He coughed into his fist, hoping he hadn’t terrified her with his forward actions. But she was his betrothed and he couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty for it—for wanting her.
Contessa offered no reply as she quietly continued dragging the brush through her hair.
He decided he couldn’t take the silence any longer and said with the gentlest tone he could find, “Here, let me.” And he carefully took the brush from her hand to begin performing the task for her.
Christian watched the bristles rake through the strands of hair that looked more like strings of warm honey against the firelight, becoming more like spun gold as it dried.
When he finished, he set the brush aside and settled his chin on her shoulder. “I was so terrified I’d lost you.” After expressing the fear that still left an unsettled panic in the pit of his stomach, he brushed her hair out of the way and touched his mouth, using soft pressure, from the linen-covered roundness of her shoulder, along the column of her slender neck, up to the juncture at the base of her jaw, where he lingered at her pulse. “Did it hurt when the blade—?” he muttered against her skin while running his palm down the length of her arm and back.
A shuddering breath escaped her lungs. “Nay, I felt naught. But I was surprised and quite confused when I looked down and saw it protruding from my chest.”
“I about died when I found that you weren’t breathing.”
After another quivering intake of air, she said, “All is well now. Let us not dwell on it anymore.”
“A wise suggestion, my darling.” Christian wrapped his arms around her, pulled her closer and twisted her around a little. Her bent leg slid along his thigh and stopped as it bumped against his belly. He cupped her jaw in his hand and searched for the eye contact he wanted. Her beautiful cheeks were flushed with color and her bottom lip was moist and red from her nibbling at it. That was a little too tempting. He only had so much self-control and seeing her firelight-gilded face was just enough to push him over the edge. “Here, let me distract you.” And he kissed her without holding back what he had in the past.
When she melted in his arms, he was inspired to let loose the remainder of his inhibitions.
“Did you run off to Gretna Green and get married without us around to congratulate you?” asked a deep male voice.
Christian was so surprised he lunged away from Tessa with such haste he landed hard on his rump upon the stone floor.
“Has the honeymoon begun?” asked a woman. “I thought he would have taken her somewhere special and exotic.”
Looking over his shoulder, Christian saw the king and queen watching him with eyebrows raised and knowing grins. Scrambling to his feet he straightened his waistcoat and bowed. “Your Majesties, I....”
“No need to apologize, Son, we completely understand. However it is our wish that you will refrain from...loving her until after the wedding.”
“Yes, Sire,” he said, as his hand rose to the hotspot on the back of his neck.
He looked to Contessa and she took one look at his face and bubbled over into a fit of giggles. Were his cheeks as red as he suspected his nape was?
Unfortunately he’d managed to forget the reason he came to her in the first place, which, of course, he remembered now. “My Lord, may I return her ring to her? It, um, kept falling off.” He lifted the chain from his shirt so they could see it. Glad that he’d chosen one with a large center diamond.
“Hmm, not a bad choice for her,” said King James. “You may proceed.”
He knelt upon one knee before Contessa, unclasped the necklace, slid the band from it, and then looked up into her face. She smiled. He paused, feeling a bit unnerved because the future in-laws were watching. Could he come up with something moving to say?
He mused about saying, You stole my heart with those bewitching green eyes of yours, always transporting me to a summer day when I gazed into them. Without you in my life I’d wither and perish like a rose without water and the warmth of the sun. But he didn’t say that fearing it was far too thick with syrupy sweetness. Deciding to tone it down with a little jest, Christian took a deep breath and gave it a go. “I love you,” he said, “and I would be pleased if you would stop dropping this....” He winked at her. “Will you marry me?”
She laughed at his teasing, and said, “Oh, Christian, you are a poet! Do I really transport you to a summer day with my eyes?”
Staring back at her with his mouth gaping for a moment, he cringed inside, real
izing that he’d just said aloud what he hadn’t meant to. Helpless to change it now he slid the gold upon her ring finger, wishing he’d remembered to do this before he had an audience.
“I love you too, you silly fool,” Contessa said, looping her arms around his neck. “Yes, I’ll marry you.” She settled her hand upon his chest and took a moment to admire the ring. He touched her back and then removed his hand, letting it hang awkwardly at his side. She wasn’t wearing much and he was touching their daughter....
“Are you willing to don yet another wedding gown?” he asked, fearing what she might say.
She groaned, pulled away, smiled bashfully at her knees, and said, “For you I am.”
Deciding he didn’t care about making a goose of himself anymore, Christian touched two fingers beneath her chin and kissed her, although it was a chaste one.
Tessa blushed prettily, then queried, “When is the wedding and where are you taking me on the honeymoon?”
“Tomorrow?” He checked expressions for approval.
The queen chuckled, shook her head and said, “We’d prefer a week or two from now. We need some time with our daughter, and we need to remove the spell before she again turns into a spirit, as well as restore her memory. And let’s not forget meeting your parents.”
“Ah,” he agreed quickly. With all that had happened he had forgotten about his mother and the wedding she was already planning. “Ah,” he muttered again as realization struck him, “I’m afraid my mother and father do not know who you are.”
“Then we must invite them for supper to remedy that.”
Wondering how they were going to react to the shocking knowledge that the in-laws were not actually a human lord and lady but fey royalty, Christian raked a hand through his hair.
“We will be staying with you here at Krestly, Lord Sparks. We do hope you’re okay with that. Whilst we do love our home, it is such a relief to get a long awaited holiday from it.”
“Yes, of course.” Christian adjusted his collar which had somehow become uncomfortably tight all of the sudden. He turned his gaze back to Tessa because just looking at her always quieted many of his concerns. “And for our honeymoon, well, darling, that is a surprise.” Mainly because he hadn’t decided where to take her yet, but he planned on making it as exotic and romantic as possible, else the fey king and queen just might have his head.
Epilogue
Part One: Painting with Light
She took a breath and relished the fact that she could actually feel it entering her lungs. It was also a pleasant feeling to have the corset gently squeeze her ribcage as she did so. Brushing her fingertips over the silk of her fawn-colored gown, she drew another intake of air. The aroma of honeyed tea and warm scones sweetened the experience of being alive. Tessa smiled as she smothered her scone with a thick layer of clotted cream which began to melt right away. Her mouth watered at the sight.
In contrast to her current delight, however, were haunting memories of what it was like to be cloaked in the glamour of death. A shudder at the thought worked its way over her body. Of course, Tessa knew the spell that had been cast by loving parents had only been done to protect her. As she considered their reason for weaving such a spell, the uninvited memories of Dominic attempted to spoil her joy as well. Taking in a sharp breath, she resisted the temptation to gaze into those bleak thoughts that were best forgotten. Dominic was dead....
Forcing herself to mentally seek more uplifting ideas, Tessa recalled the fey magic from her childhood that had been restored to her memory. The familiar words of the musical language danced through her mind like a beloved nursery rhyme, comforting her soul. And while parts of her past were tainted with darkness, her future was immensely bright, just like the magic of her youth—she could actually see it as though it were as visible as sunrays. Her parents’ castle, where they now sat, shimmered with gleaming fey spells that etched the walls, floors, and furnishings. She’d even been able to see remnants of it at Krestly as well.
The sound of a teacup clicking against its saucer snapped her back to the present and the tea they were enjoying with both sets of parents. Wondering if anyone had noticed her shudder a moment ago, she considered those around her. Christian’s mother was chatting excitedly with her mother about her favorite millineries and tea parlors like they were a pair of ladies who’d known one another for many years. She was very pleased they were getting on so well. The men were connecting just as cordially, it seemed, as they made plans for the upcoming fox hunt. Her papa’s expression was filled with delight at being freed from his long prison and able to enjoy a bit of masculine sport.
Both Mama and Papa were dressed in Victorian fashions. Tessa decided they’d updated their medieval attire with spells, as she noted the silvery threads embroidering their newly conjured garments. Papa looked rather dashing in his gray waistcoat, which really looked silver to her awakened eye. Mama had quickly embraced the modern designs of fashion, looking exquisite in her sapphire gown that was trimmed in lace and ribbons.
Christian had just set his teacup down and reached for the last fairy cake. As a true gentleman, he offered it to her instead of taking it for himself. Knowing by the look in his eyes that he wanted it, she hesitated in her response. Clearly, Christian knew her all too well because he smiled, chuckled under his breath, and placed the fairy cake upon her plate beside the scone. “But—” she began.
Instead of letting her speak, Christian silenced her with the touch of his finger to her lips. “Hush, darling, you know I live to spoil you.”
Squaring her shoulders with determination, Tessa decided she wouldn’t let him always be the hero of lemon-filled fairy cakes, and as easy as painting with sunlight, she conjured another upon his plate. While she was at it, she refilled his cup with tea.
None of the words needed to be spoken aloud, within her mind was enough. Tessa marveled in wonder as threads of fey magic twirled in curling designs over the porcelain surface of his teacup. So beautiful, it almost took her breath away.
Her gaze touched upon his mother and father to see if they’d noticed what she’d done. They wouldn’t be able to see the magic as she could, but they might have noticed the fairy cake magically appear upon Christian’s plate. They’d responded quite well to the news about her being a fey princess, but she and Christian had agreed that perhaps they shouldn’t overwhelm his parents by performing magic in front of them. A sigh of relief escaped her. It was very clear that the marchioness and marquess were entirely distracted with conversation and hadn’t noticed what she’d done. Her papa, however, had a twinkling smile pinned on her. When he knew he’d been caught watching her, he winked.
Tessa bit her lip and then returned the smile as her cheeks burned crimson. When Christian’s sire asked Papa another question, and his gaze left her, her attention returned to Christian. Tipping her head to the side, she watched him closely to see his reaction to her magic. She took in the way his brown hair became messier and messier every time he dragged his fingers through it, the way his dark brown eyes reflected intelligence, and the way his clothes fit his muscular frame. To her he was so very handsome, and she was quite pleased that he was hers. Making sure that he had another fairy cake too was one simple way she could show him how she cared about him.
Her husband hadn’t noticed the cake just yet because he was engaged in a conversation with his mother about the ball to be held a fortnight from now. Christian cringed when his mother commanded, “Our theme is to be a Midsummer Night’s Eve, and you will dress as a fairy.” The comment drew soft chuckles from those around the table.
“Mother, you can’t possibly be—” he began.
“We’ll transform the ballroom into a rustic woodland scene with moss, vines, and wildflowers,” continued Lady Sparks as though Christian hadn’t tried to speak at all.
“How extremely creative of you, Mother,” commented Christian dryly.
“Wouldn’t it be divine if the ladies came with their hair and gowns adorned by h
andmade roses and butterflies? The gentlemen’s coattails simply must be embellished with brown and black feathers.” An impish glimmer flickered to life in her eyes when she added, “And Father will do readings from Shakespeare’s enchanting work dressed as a donkey!”
Lord Sparks choked on his cake.
Was that a small pixyish smile gracing Lady Spark’s mouth as she patted her husband on the back? As Lord Sparks franticly reached for his tea to quiet his cough, she went on describing her ideas for the event. “We shall have honey mead instead of punch, and strawberry meringues, and mustard-encrusted—”
“Will this also be a masked ball, Mother?” Christian asked, sounding far too eager to hide his face during the event.
“Heavens no!” Lady Sparks tapped her spoon upon the edge of her teacup perhaps a little too sharply. “That is for Emma’s coming out event.”
“But, darling,” piped up Lord Sparks, “a donkey? I think I’d rather wear wings.”
Patting her husband’s arm as if to console him, she replied, “Only a pair of ears, darling, do not fret. They’ll be made of velvet, in a lovely dove gray which will match your waistcoat, to be sure.”
“Are you truly set upon this theme, then?” asked, Christian. This time Tessa detected a note of desperation in his tone.
A stubborn look overtook Lady Sparks’ face, her lips puckering in disapproval. “I do insist,” she finally announced. “It shall be a lovely event. The talk of the ton, I suspect.”
Tessa watched the muscles in Christian’s jaw tighten when he clamped his teeth together and fell silent. She’d learned from past experience that he knew better than to argue with his mother. She could also understand his resistance to donning wings. But when Lady Sparks had learned of her being fey, she’d become quite fixated on this theme for the ball to celebrate their union. Her parents thought it was a charming and whimsical idea, if not a bit silly as well.
Dropping his head, Christian groaned so quietly Tessa suspected she was the only one to hear it. He froze when his eyes landed on the fairy cake that was right in the middle of his previously empty plate. Almost as quickly, his eyes shot to hers likely to see if the cake he’d just given to her was still there, and she giggled at the funny look on his face when he discovered that it was. His gaze lifted just as his eyebrow did.
Fair Maiden Page 28