Perhaps he is simply spending the evening with Drucilla. Yet that doesn’t seem right. Tremaine wouldn’t miss an opportunity to cozy up to a prince, even if he had to endure my presence to do it. He cares about his daughters only in the sense that they are tools he could use to leverage himself into wealth and status. He smashed Cilla’s foot in service to his ambition.
I wonder what my mother ever saw in him. Perhaps Tremaine was better at concealing his depravity years ago.
“What worries your pretty head, Sunshine?”
I curl my fingers around Alistair’s arm. “Thinking about what a fool I was to stay all those years.”
“You could have run.”
“I had nowhere to go. No money, no friends except Maxine…Alistair, I didn’t even say goodbye to her. Please, we must invite her to the wedding.”
“A witch at a royal wedding?” he says skeptically.
“Without her, we never would have met.”
“I don’t believe that.” He shakes his head. “We were destined, Elinor. I would have found you one way or another after that day in the streets.”
He pats my hand confidently. I can’t stop from noticing the cuts on his knuckles. I’ve seen injuries like that before, on the hands of men after a brawl in the village.
How did Alistair get them?
16
ALISTAIR
Elinor’seffusive sweetness charms me more with each passing minute. It’s as natural to her as honey is to bees, and it remains a mystery to me how anyone could have mistreated such a gentle, hardworking young woman.
Twice, she forgets herself and tries to help the maids with small tasks during our too-brief and overly supervised tour of the castle.
I show her the music room. She declares herself keen to learn how to play, never having had the opportunity before. Anastacia immediately plops down at the pianoforte and begins banging on the keys with the subtlety of an ogre, casting what I assume are meant to be flirtatious glances at me as if Elinor isn’t standing right there, politely pretending to enjoy the spectacle.
Only Othmar appears to be impressed.
“I seem to recall you enjoying risqué poetry,” I say with a sidelong smile. A lovely blush paints my bride’s cheeks. “Shall we revisit Rhoesis?”
In the library, Minge squints at Elinor for a long time before finally putting two and two together. Wisely, he doesn’t ask questions and brings us the tomes on mapping celestial bodies that Elinor wants to see. Not ten minutes into looking at gorgeous illustrated maps and talking about the hidden fae castle, the obnoxious stepsister complains about being chilled and bored.
“How did you not murder your family in their sleep?” I mutter to my bride.
Elinor swats my arm, but there’s an edge to her laughter. “I don’t wish ill upon anyone,” she says firmly, which is rather too bad, considering. “When is the wedding to be held?”
“Tomorrow.” I am so close to making her mine, forever. Never losing my Sunshine again.
“Can’t you postpone the wedding to allow Cilla and me to have new bridesmaids’ gowns made?” Stacia whines, evidently eavesdropping on our conversation as she dogs our heels.
“There will be no delay.” I stride a little faster, instinctively trying to put more distance between us. “We will proceed with our marriage as planned. Belterre has waited long enough for me to secure the succession.”
Elinor studies my face. “Are you all right?”
“Fine, my sweet.” I brush a kiss across her knuckles. A tiny pleat forms in her brow as she stares at mine. “Let your stepsisters try to take people’s attention away from you, Sunshine. They’ll only make asses of themselves in the process.”
She smiles tightly. “You’re right. The Tremaine sisters are no bother to me now. With you to protect me, I can rise above their antics.” She lets her lashes drift downward, back to my hand where I still hold hers. “Where did you get those scrapes and bruises? You didn’t have them when we left Scinder House this morning.”
Gods damn everything, I’m not answering that question. “An accident with the horses. Come this way. I want to show you something.”
“What is it?” she asks.
“A surprise.”
