And Max, all joking aside, I’m terribly sorry for the trouble this must be putting you through. I never considered what would happen to you, or Ella, or Lottie, or my guards, if I didn’t make it safely through the mountains. I hope father isn’t being too horrible. If you think it will help, tell him I love him, and I beg his forgiveness, and I’ll be home as soon as I can.
Give Ella my warm regards. If you’ve gotten married without me you’ll just have to do it all over again when I get back.
Love,
The Mischief Maker
That was it. Fain started to crumple up the letter, intending to throw it on the fire, when a single line on the back of the last sheet caught his eye.
P.S. Don’t you dare say I have feelings for him, Max. I’m already terribly afraid it’s true.
Chapter Fourteen
“William Notter!” Vivienne called across the great hall. “You are just the lad I needed to see.”
Billy dashed up to her. He had recently confided that he liked her best of all the folk in the keep “saving Master Fain, a’course.”
“I suppose you have to like him better,” Vivi had said, teasingly.
“Oh no, Miss Belle. I like him better cause he saved me, didn’ he? And ’cause he always does the right thing. And ’cause he’s ever so good at hunting.”
“Saved you, how?”
“He carried me off, instead’a lettin’ the goldcoats take me.”
“He carried you off?” Her curiosity was on fire, but she tried to ask casually.
“Oh yeah. Snuck me outta my house at night. My ma sure cried, but Fain said I had to go.”
“He kidnapped you?!” Vivienne was horrified, but Billy scoffed at her.
“Don’t you know nothin’? I’d heaps rather be here with Fain then off with the goldcoats.” He’d rolled his eyes and run off, but apparently she’d been forgiven for prying, as today he ran up to her without hesitation.
“What’cha need, Miss Belle?”
“Well, Master Notter, Connelly tells me that you know the location of a particularly hardy witch hazel in the woods.”
“I do! We gather them flowers for all kinds’a potions.”
“I was wondering if I might send you on a quest to retrieve some for me? Connelly tells me the new soap is finally ready, and fresh witch hazel makes a lovely addition to bath water.”
“I’d love to get you some, Miss Belle. Might take me a while, though. You don’t need your bath ’til later?”
“Not until evening, Master Notter.”
“Oh, I’ll be back long ’fore then. Tell Master Fain where I’ve gone, awright?”
Vivienne nodded and waved at the little crusader as he set off at a gallop to gather his winter wraps. He was such a happy little fellow, but frequently seemed bored, pent up in the keep. It was nice to be able to give him something to do.
“Belle!” Marcus Shapherd was calling from the kitchen.
“Yes, Master Shapherd?”
“Get in here. Matt thinks he can teach you how to make something edible.”
“And what do you think?”
“I think the betting started an hour ago, so you’d best get in here and start cooking.”
She was carefully spreading the mashed potatoes with a greased spoon when Fain MacTíre came roaring into the kitchen.
“What have you done?!”
Vivienne kept her eyes on her casserole. She would not look at him. If the beast wanted to keep her at arm’s length then she would let him. She wasn’t going to go sniveling after him like some besotted cow.
“Well, the brothers here assure me that I have made a type of pie, but I am skeptical, since it hasn’t any sort of pastry crust to speak of.”
“I don’t mean the food, woman! I mean this !” Fain thrust his arm beneath her face, and Vivienne was hit by an overpowering scent. Oh. Right. She had almost forgotten.
“Why, Master MacTíre, what a lovely floral bouquet.” She smiled at him with sweet sincerity. “Lavender is one of my favorites.” While he gaped at her, she fluttered her lashes at him. Twice.
“Belle,” he said, warningly. “Tell me why I smell like an over-laundered linen closet. Now.”
“Well, you did put me in charge of the soap production, and I thought it would be lovely to have some scented bars. Connelly was ever so generous. He let me use all the essence I wanted.”
“Are you telling me that all the soap you made smells like this?”
“Of course not.” Fain started to sigh in relief. “Some of it smells like attar of roses.”
“ROSES?!”
The next thing she knew, he had scooped her up and flung her over his shoulder. Vivienne let out a startled squawk, but then she composed herself. It would be hard enough to sound composed and in control while hanging upside down. She didn’t need to make funny noises as well.
“Fain MacTíre, you put me down this instant.” She could see that the Shapherds would be no help; both men were laughing too hard to lend any aid. “This is your own fault. If you didn’t want it to smell pretty you shouldn’t have asked me to do it.” He ignored her, striding out of the kitchen and towards the great doors that led to the inner bailey. “I would think that you’d be grateful. Perhaps this will induce some of the men to bathe more frequently.” Fain casually kicked open the double wooden doors and went out into the open air. Vivienne wasn’t dressed for the chill at all. The lower half of her legs were left bare by the breeches, and Fain’s linen shirt was far from heavy enough to keep out the wintery chill. Goosebumps leapt up on her exposed skin.
“Th-that is q-q-quite enough, Master MacT-t-tire.” Her teeth were chattering away. “T-t-take me back ind-doors this instant.”
He swung left and entered the stables, depositing her unceremoniously in one of the empty stalls. Grabbing a horse blanket, he tossed it to her and then turned away, resting his forehead against the stable wall. Then… nothing.
It was difficult drawing the horse blanket around herself with only one arm, but Vivienne managed it. Once she had it clasped firmly around her shoulders, she turned her attention to the madman who had carried her out here. He still wasn’t saying anything, but his shoulders were… vibrating.
“Really, MacTíre, I wouldn’t think you’d be so angry about a simple prank.”
If anything his quiver only intensified. Both his hands were braced against the warped wooden planks that ran along the wall of the stables.
“It’s not as though I poisoned you,” Vivi muttered.
MacTíre finally turned around. He was laughing. The no-good, low-down, dirty oaf of a mountain man had dragged her out into the stables to laugh at her.
“I don’t see what’s so funny.” She sounded sullen, even to herself. “Unless it’s that you smell exactly like a high class whor—”
Vivienne never finished her sentence. She would have—she wasn’t the type to leave a thing unsaid—but her mouth was suddenly otherwise occupied. Fain had closed the distance between them and, even as she spoke, covered her mouth with his own.
How had she ever thought the stables were cold? Her whole body was warm, wrapped in Fain’s arms and the rough horse blanket. In fact, she began to wish the horse blanket were gone, so that she could use her good hand. No sooner had she thought it than she began wriggling her left arm free. She finally got it out as Fain deepened the kiss, nudging her mouth open.
Pushing him gently back, she smiled at him sweetly. Then, using all her strength, she slapped him in the face.
Fain’s face hurt. That was the first thing he registered. Specifically, his cheek was throbbing. One minute he had been kissing Belle, and the next he was standing here with what must surely be a red handprint blossoming on his jaw. He didn’t need to ask about the odd turn of affairs, though. Belle was already speaking.
“Of all the nerve! You think me a liar, and a murderess, and gods know what else; but you think I’ll just kiss you in the stables whenever you feel the urge
?” Fain opened his mouth to respond, but Belle didn’t even stop for breath. “You don’t speak to me for days, then you save me and run off, and then you yell at me and take liberties with my person? Outrageous.”
“To be fair,” Fain broke in a bit wryly, “I rather thought you were in favor of my taking liberties.”
“That is not the point.” Belle blushed red, but refused to be swayed. “Whatever my feelings on liberties may or may not have been, any gentleman would have made certain of my good will before… before…”
“Before ravishing you in the stables?”
“Precisely.” She glared at him.
He started to grin, but then a thought struck him, and he felt like he’d been doused in ice water. How could he have forgotten? “I’m sorry Belle, I’m a fool. You must feel like you can’t walk anywhere in this keep without some miscreant slobbering on you.”
She whacked him again, this time on the shoulder. “Don’t be an idiot. You are nothing like Simon Legrey. He is a villain of the highest caliber. You are merely an idiotic mountain-bred troll with no idea how to properly behave around a lady.”
His chest eased, and he smiled again. “In that case, I beg your forgiveness.” He made his bow ridiculously florid and elaborate. “I was overcome by your charm, and lost sight of propriety.” It was true. Gods help him, this woman was like a plague in his blood. He’d been angry when he first discovered her prank, but now… Something about her dissolved his anger, made him see the humor in what she’d done. And when he wasn’t angry anymore, all he could think about was kissing her.
“You are not forgiven.” He started to laugh again at her prim tone, and then checked himself. The minx didn’t need any encouragement. “Perhaps I could be induced to forgive you for this little incident, but you have not even hinted at any remorse for thinking that I would… that I am… that…” She stopped abruptly. “What exactly is it you believe I am, anyway? I confess, I’m a bit confused.”
Fain gazed at her for a long moment. Her confusion seemed natural, and honest. He weighed his options. If she had been sent here to harm him, he had already given away his suspicions. And if she hadn’t… Truthfully, if she wasn’t a spy then he would very much like to be on her good side. Perhaps telling her his suspicions would help her understand, and ease her anger.
“I’m waiting.” Her raised eyebrows and petulant tone left no doubt that she expected an answer, and, just like that, Fain decided to give her one. Maybe he’d learn something from her reaction.
Maybe he just wanted to see her reaction.
“Well,” he drew the word out, “as it happens, I think you’re probably a spy.”
Her eyes widened.
“Sent to harm me, if you can.”
Her lips parted.
“Or, if you can’t, to report back on my position and resources.”
A little squeak came out.
“All in all, I think I’ve been a rather good sport about it.”
Vivi stared at him. He thought she was a spy. He thought she was a spy. She imagined what her father would have done, if he had a presumed spy in his custody. Suddenly MacTíre’s relatively minor restrictions on her seemed… insufficient.
“Fain MacTíre,” she planted her hands on her hips and glared at him, “are you telling me that you think I might be here to poison you, but you let me work in the kitchen? I could have killed every last one of you!”
“The Shapherds gave you every ingredient you put in the pie. I hardly see how you could have killed us.”
“What if I had a powder hidden in my pocket? What if I had a vial up my sleeve?”
“What pocket? And how could you hide anything with the sleeves rolled up like that? I don’t know if you realize it, Belle, but my clothes don’t leave much to the imagination on you. I think the Shapherds would have noticed any suspicious vials.”
“The king’s spymaster swears there’s a Chin assassin who’s made himself immune to all deadly substances, and when he needs to poison someone he takes enough to make his own blood toxic, so he can carry a lethal dose anywhere. I could have bled in the pie. I probably did. I’m not very good with a chef’s knife, you know.” Vivi was triumphant at Fain’s look of consternation.
“How do you know the king’s spymaster? Nevermind. I guess you’re right. We’ll have to throw it away.”
“What?! No!” She felt the triumph melt away. “It’s the first thing I’ve ever cooked, you can’t throw it away!”
He gave her a stern look. “You just told me how you could have poisoned it. You don’t really expect me to let everyone eat it, do you?”
“No, I-I guess I—oh, all right!” She glared at him. “You shouldn’t let anyone eat it. It might be dangerous. But I can eat it. I’ll tell you all how wonderful it is.”
They both stood glaring daggers at one another, until Fain finally laughed.
“What am I to do with you?”
“Well you ought to throw me in chains in your dungeon.”
“ I don’t think I have a dungeon. There’s the wine cellar, but it got flooded sometime last year and we’ve never drained it. Besides, I might be wrong. Maybe you’re telling the truth. It’d be a shame to throw an innocent woman in a swampy basement.”
“While I certainly agree with you for my own benefit, you have responsibilities. You can’t assume that I’m telling the truth.”
“That’s just what I’ve been telling Connelly.”
“Well, then,” she sighed. “You’ll just have to have someone with me at all times. I mean it. You can’t ever leave me alone. If I was really a spy I could be far more skilled than you think. You need to have me watched by someone who could overpower me, if need be.”
“Are you seriously standing there telling me to keep you under guard? You’re a strange sort of spy, Miss Wellesley.”
“I am not a spy.” She knew he was teasing her, but she scowled at him anyway, before speaking seriously. “But I am—” She broke off.
“What? What are you, Belle?” He pleaded. “Just tell me. Give me a reason to trust you. Tell me the truth.”
“That’s so easy for you to say. You want me to tell you who I am?” she said bitterly. “Tell me what you are, Fain MacTíre.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” But he did. She could tell from his voice that he knew exactly what she meant.
“I mean that you and your men are not soldiers in a far-flung outpost. You are not the Squire who owns this land, nor a land manager. You are not a wealthy man living independently and eccentrically in the wilds. You are not any of the honest, respectable things the leader of a company in the wilderness could be. So what are you? You tell me. Trust me.”
They stared at one another. Vivienne watched a storm of emotion chase across Fain’s face, before it hardened and closed off. She felt her insides wrench, and knew his answer before he gave it.
“I can’t.”
“Then I can’t,” she whispered back. “But Fain, I wish you would believe me. I won’t hurt you. I won’t hurt any of you.”
Something about the raw pleading in her face must have touched him. His face softened, and he reached a hand out, running his fingers through a few loose curls that framed her face. “I wish I could believe you.”
Footsteps pounded up outside the stable. Marlplot burst in, face wild.
“Master MacTíre, no one can find Billy!”
Vivi hastened to reassure them. “He’s not lost! I asked him to fetch me some witch hazel from the forest.” She was unprepared for the look of horror both men turned on her.
“You sent Billy into the forest? Alone?” Fain was incredulous.
“I didn’t send him alone; I mean, I suppose he went by himself, but…” Vivienne was at a loss for words. “Why? What’s wrong?”
Fain’s face turned red, but he spoke slowly and evenly. “You sent an eight year old boy alone into the woods in winter, and you want to know what’s wrong?”
“But Connelly ha
s him gather herbs all the time!” Vivienne was growing frantic. They were acting as though Billy were in danger.
“Connelly takes him into the woods and never leaves his side.” It was eerie how Fain wasn’t yelling. Vivi felt a pit open up in her stomach. “The woods are full of dangerous predators, many of whom will attack a child, especially when game is scarce in the winter.” Her hand rose to her mouth, as the enormity of what she had done began to sink in. “Even without the animals, the woods are a dangerous place. If he fell, or got hurt, he could freeze to death before anyone found him.” Vivienne felt her knees go, and wilted down onto the straw. “Did you think we kept him in the keep for our own amusement?”
“I didn’t think.” She spoke so low she could barely hear herself. Horror choked her voice. “I didn’t think at all.” Tears began rolling down her cheeks. How many times did she have to make the same mistake? “I didn’t think. I didn’t think. I—”
“Enough.” Fain’s voice was still controlled. “You’ll do him no good falling to pieces. Get up. We’re going to look for him.” He turned to leave the stable. “Marlplot, tell Connelly, Kelly, and Branson that I want them and whoever they think knows the woods as well as they do to report to the gate. Tell them to bring extra blankets, in case.”
As Fain strode off, Vivienne stumbled to her feet and followed. She couldn’t stop the tears, but she could still use her eyes. She would find Billy. The alternative was unthinkable.
A commotion arose by the front gate. As they neared, Vivienne heard a familiar, piping voice raised in indignation.
“—dunno why you’re all so worried! It’s not like I’m a baby! Get off me! I’m fine!”
Dashing forward, Vivienne pushed through the small crowd of men who were circling little Billy Notter, who, aside from being highly irate, was completely whole and sound. Vivi knelt on the cold cobblestones and swept him into her arms.
“Oh Billy, Billy, Billy…” she chanted, relief making her voice weak. “I am so sorry, Billy.”
Once Upon a Romance 02 - As The Last Petal Falls Page 11