Tournament of Ruses

by Kate Stradling

  “Flora, I think I love you.”

  Her heart jumped and her breath caught in her throat. This admission was so far out of her expectations that her only ready response was to stare.

  He glanced up ruefully. “You really do ruin everything,” he said for the second time. “You know how long I’ve had my life planned? My path’s been chosen from the moment I was born. I had it all perfectly mapped, too: finish my military commitment, return to the Academy to study political science, serve as a clerk to several of the lords in turn, and eventually assume a secretarial position until my father decides to retire. The military and the academy and the clerking will take me through the next decade, easily. I figured when I was somewhere between thirty and thirty-five I could select an eligible girl from the crowd—because they’re all essentially the same—and get married and start a family. Must continue on the line of Prime Ministers of Lenore, you know.

  “And then you came along,” he concluded bitterly, “and with the very worst possible timing. You know, most of the girls around here are just pretty to look at. But not you.”

  Flora stiffened. “Pardon me for not being pretty!”

  “What?” said Charlie sharply. “That’s not what—! Of course you’re pretty! You’re not just pretty, I said. You’ve got a brain. You can talk about more than trivialities. You’re actually fun to be with. And when I realized that, I... I balked, Flora. I knew I was getting attached, and I didn’t want to. I had my life planned, and it didn’t involve falling in love while I was still in uniform. I started to make excuses and find fault. You were involved with the Prince’s search for a consort. I held that against you. And then you kept getting more involved! I tried to ascribe all sorts of ulterior motives to you, tried to make you out to be just like the Georgiana Winthrops of the world, girls who give you all the attention you could want until someone better comes along. And you rightly set me in my place time and time again, which only irritated me all the more. I was an idiot. Am an idiot. But I can’t very well make amends if you go running away to the countryside!

  “Maybe I’m already past making amends,” he added with a despairing expression.

  Flora’s heart was going to beat its way right out of her chest if this continued. She abruptly stood and crossed to the window. “What exactly are you asking?” she asked, and she did her best to keep the trembling from her voice.

  She heard him rise, could see his hopeless expression reflected in the glass. “I suppose I’m asking if I even have a chance,” he said.

  “A chance at what?”

  “At winning your heart, Flora.”

  She faced him then, indignation bubbling within her. He had exposed his innermost feelings and waited for her response, and at that particular moment, she wanted nothing more than to hit him. “And how am I supposed to answer? If I tell you yes, doesn’t that make me look exactly like one of those girls you’ve been comparing me to, as though I’ll simply jump at the most eligible man who presents himself? You’re such an idiot, Charlie! Why couldn’t you have been honest with me from the beginning? Everything would’ve been totally different, but I thought—! Why did you have to—”

  Her tirade was cut short when he suddenly spoke her name. “Flora.”

  “What?” she said, wary of the solemn expression on his face.

  “I take that as a yes, and I’m going to kiss you now.”

  “Oh,” she said, and she had exactly half a second to prepare herself before he followed through with his rash declaration.

  It was a relief, to act honestly rather than stumble over clumsy words. A knot around her heart loosed as she wrapped her arms about his neck and kissed him back.

  To her mind suddenly flashed recollection of a dark room and a similar embrace; Flora broke away and buried her face in his shoulder.

  They stood together, unmoving, only the sounds of their breath to punctuate the stillness of the room. “Well,” said Charlie at last, “you didn’t slap me. Will would say that’s a point in my favor.”

  “You’re an idiot, Charlie,” she repeated into his uniform, and she weakly beat her fist against his chest.

  He held back an instinctive laugh. “If you’d only taken your test this morning, I would’ve been able to work out the proper timing. This demented scheme of yours, retreating to the countryside, ruined everything! It reduced my timetable from months to mere minutes!”

  “Why? If you were serious you could’ve come and found me again in a decade or so.”

  “As if you’d still be there! After last night you’re going to have half the male population of Lenore beating a path to your doorway, regardless of where you are. I thought I had an advantage on them all, as you’d still have to come to the palace to study your magic, but I can’t very well follow you to the countryside. I’m stationed here for two more years at least, you little ruiner.”

  “You still seem to think I’m out angling for a husband,” she said, and she pinched him viciously.

  He caught hold of her hand. “I know you’re not. That doesn’t mean that some persistent suitor couldn’t persuade you to marry him—or, worse yet, persuade you to fall in love with him! And for all I know, there’s already some mooncalf waiting for your return to your hometown!”

  “You wouldn’t like that?” she asked archly.

  “I won’t have it. I saved your life, you know.”

  She beat her fist against him again. “And you didn’t visit me once while I was recovering! And you treated me like some distant cousin last night,” she added, for she took that as the greater insult. “What were you thinking?”

  “I was thinking of getting a clean slate! I was thinking you already hated me and I needed to tread softly! I was thinking that if I had my way you wouldn’t have left my arms for the entire evening, and that would’ve made a fine spectacle of both of us! You have no idea what sort of control I had to exercise! As for visiting you, I… I tried. I really did. I got as far as your door probably half a dozen times, but I couldn’t go any further. I should have, but Flora, you don’t know what a state you were in when… and I had…”

  “You kissed me,” she said flatly.

  “It didn’t count!” Charlie cried. “Someone had to, and I wasn’t about to let anyone else do it! It’s just—for the remedy to be something like that, and you in the state you were in, it was like I was taking advantage of you, of the situation. I knew I was too far gone at that point, that I was completely smitten even with you in that wraith-like state. It terrified me. I didn’t trust myself to see you again until I could gather my wits properly, which I obviously haven’t. I’m sure it was stupid of me, but—”

  “Oh, it definitely was,” Flora agreed, her face solemn.

  “And what about you?” he demanded. “I’ve told you plenty about my feelings and heard nothing of yours.”

  “I’m just a fool,” she said. “Despite how horrible you’ve been off and on, I’ve liked you for ages.”

  He frowned. “That’s it? ‘Like’?”

  She favored him with a reproving glare. “You’re going to have to work a little harder to get anything more than that from me, Charles Moreland. I’m not the sort of girl to go confessing adoration to the first eligible man who comes along.”

  “Just as long as you don’t go confessing it to any of the others, I’ll accept that for now,” he said, and he kissed her again.

  “Liked” was a horrific understatement. She supposed she ought to tell him the truth.

  “Come take your test,” he commanded before she could gather her thoughts, though. An instinctive scowl furrowed her brows, but Charlie didn’t care. “I’m not letting you go back to the countryside, Flora Dalton, if I have to get a royal edict from the Eternal Prince himself—and he’ll give it, believe you me.”

  Will certainly would. Flora still didn’t like her actions to be dictated to her. “I already made my decision,” she protested.

  “Then change your mind. Haven’t I demonstrated well enoug
h the ills of persisting down the wrong path even after you know it’s wrong? And if you think you’re going to spend a quiet day holed up here, I’ll tell you quite plainly that you’re not going to have a moment’s peace. In another hour you’ll have at least five prospective suitors knocking on your door, with another half-dozen on their heels. And you can thank that red dress of yours for the favor! Come take your test instead.”

  “Because that’s somehow going to divert these supposed suitors?”

  “No. They’ll go away on their own once they learn you’re going to marry me.”

  Her brows shot up. “Marriage? Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself?”

  “Courtship, then,” said Charlie with long-suffering. “It’s practically the same thing.”

  “It’s not!” She stamped her foot for emphasis. “Besides, I don’t want to be the Prime Minister’s wife!”

  “You think I’d marry anyone that did? Come on,” he said, and he pulled her from the house with a grin on his face. Flora was inclined to dig in her heels on principle alone, but she thought that after everything he had admitted, she could stand to give in at least a little.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven: An Ending, of Sorts

  Well, I failed. I mean, I utterly and completely failed. Prime Minister Moreland prepared a test of fifty questions, and I only got seventeen correct. Half of the subject matter I’d never even heard of.

  But apparently, he expected I wouldn’t get more than five correct, so he praised me all the same.

  (I do think it especially surprised him when I knew the seal for summoning razor blades. I’ll have to thank Edmund for that later.)

  The long and short of it is that I am to continue in my current position, provided that I keep at my studies. The Prime Minister admitted that he’s not used to training magicians beyond his own family, but he said he’d try to accommodate me as best he could. Charlie’s insistence that I’m going to be part of the family soon enough probably helps matters.

  Speaking of Charlie, he’s gotten awfully full of himself. He’s bragged to practically the whole city that we’re engaged. I even have a ring, despite my request for a proper courtship. (He says we can have a long engagement instead, if I like, which I don’t. “But they’re the same thing, Flora!”)

  It’s adorable, which only makes me love him all the more. If he wasn’t so conceited about everything, I’d tell him so, too.

  Oh, I’ll tell him eventually. In the meantime, my true thoughts will be kept between me and this diary. And the brownies that read it, of course. We mustn’t forget them.

  Word quickly spread that Charles Moreland and Flora Dalton were affianced. Priscilla paid Flora a visit to congratulate her heartily, and also to inform her that Georgiana had thrown a delightful tantrum when she heard the news. Flora actually felt bad for the maligned Miss Winthrop, but she knew that Georgiana would rebound nicely. Besides, Charlie’s meticulous life plan had not involved an engagement with Lord Winthrop’s youngest. If not for the tournament she might have one day convinced him to marry her, but her exposed ambition had effectively destroyed that possibility before Flora ever entered the scene.

  Viola and Will expressed their approval with laughter and joyous embraces. Edmund grumbled his congratulations and told them not to get all mushy around him. Prime Minister Moreland just nodded efficiently, though Flora did not miss the small smile that ghosted across his lips. Her own father was reluctant when presented with the news—certainly he could not refuse Charlie’s well-worded request, but he drew Flora aside later to verify that she was indeed acting of her own will and not with his political career in mind. He had learned that lesson well enough already. Her blushing denial assuaged his fears and earned her his blessing.

  The most curious reaction, however, came from Mrs. Moreland.

  Charlie told his mother the news with a very nervous Flora by his side. Elizabeth Moreland’s mouth turned up in a kindly smile, but all she said, in the most reassuring of voices, was, “Of course you are, dear.”

  “What?” asked Charlie in confusion.

  “Of course you are. I picked her out myself. I am surprised that you caught on so quickly—he’s terribly slow when it comes to relationships and feelings,” she added in mock confidence to Flora.

  “I don’t understand,” Charlie uttered.

  His mother patted his hand. “The Prince promised me that if I agreed to sit on the interview panel, I could scout all of the consort applicants to see if there was anyone suitable for you. I picked Flora from the pack almost immediately. Good for you for having sense enough to do the same.

  “Welcome to the family, dear,” she added to Flora, and she hugged her tightly.

  “B-but…” Charlie gibbered.

  “Congratulations, Charles,” his mother told him with a frankness in her voice that commanded him to return to his senses. “I was worried she wouldn’t have you.”

  Then, she left them standing there while she returned to her baking. Charlie turned lost eyes upon Flora.

  “Regrets?” she asked him impishly.

  “No. Just… Why does everyone else seem to know my business before I do?”

  “I suspect that your mother knows far more than you give her credit for,” said Flora.

  “She’s a smart girl, Charlie,” remarked Mrs. Moreland. “Do your very best to keep her from changing her mind, won’t you?”

  “She won’t change her mind,” he retorted irritably. “I’m an astonishingly good catch.” His mother snorted ungracefully, and Flora glowered up at him. “What?” he demanded of her. “You know I am.”

  “That doesn’t mean you need to be smug about it.”

  Her unspoken admission pleased him. Charlie rocked back on his heels with a grin. “I knew I was an astonishingly good catch.”

  “Yes, it’s a shame you couldn’t hold a tournament to select an equally astonishing wife,” said Flora dryly.

  “I don’t need some silly fanfare like that.”

  “You’re both ridiculous,” Mrs. Moreland said from across the room. “I’ve already told you that was the whole point of this nonsense from the very beginning. The Prince didn’t need a tournament to find his wife. The future Prime Minister did. Thus, everyone played their parts nicely, and a happy ending is had by all. There’s no point in deluding yourselves that it was anything more or less than that.”

  Charlie and Flora both gaped. Charlie seemed almost offended by the many implications of her words. “Are you trying to say that this whole affair was some elaborate, orchestrated ruse?” he asked when he had properly gathered his wits.

  His mother arched her eyebrows. “Oh, Charlie,” she said with mock sympathy, “isn’t that what this family does best?”

  And she spoke those words with such assurance that Charlie and Flora both were left to wonder just how far the Moreland family ruses extended. On reflection, it didn’t really matter: they were both entangled and more than happy to be there.

  The End