“The High Lady certainly thinks so,” Evryn said. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, my friend,” he added. “Lady Mariselle has not yet been formally introduced to my family.”
They turned away from Crispin, and Evryn heard the first true hint ofalarm in Mariselle’s voice when she hissed, “We are notactuallygoing to speak with your family now, are we?”
“Of course not, but did you really want to remain in conversation with my deeply suspicious friend?” Evryn asked, his smile never faltering. “He still harbors—Ah, Lady Thornhart, Lady Whispermist!” He stopped abruptly before colliding with two elegant older women, longtime friends of his grandmother.
“Evryn,” Lady Amarind Thornhart said in that tone she had perfected over decades, one that managed to convey disappointment even in a simple greeting. Her dark gaze swept over Mariselle, brows drawing together in disapproval. “And Lady Mariselle. What an extraordinary development this is. I must confess, when I first heard the news, I wondered if perhaps the gossip birds had finally lost what little sense they possess.”
“I assure you,” Evryn said as he bowed respectfully to Fin’s grandmother, “the rumors are quite true.”
“Hmm. So I see.”
Lady Lycilla Whispermist, a short woman with lavender hair, offered a more diplomatic smile. “The High Lady seems quite delighted by your connection. That alone suggests there must be something genuine in this unexpected bond, despite the … historical considerations.”
Evryn looked down at Mariselle, and for a moment, he pictured Jasvian gazing at Iris. Though the stab of envy earlier had irritated him, he now did the unthinkable and attempted to channel his older brother, allowing his expression to soften into what he hoped resembled genuine warmth. “Neither of us anticipated such a connection,” he said, his voice tender as he gazed into Mariselle’s blue eyes. “But magic has a way of revealing truths we never knew existed.”
“So lovely,” Lady Lycilla said, appearing somewhat more convinced now. “And I do hope,” she added with a glance at Mariselle, “that we shall have the pleasure of seeing you at The Charmed Leaf soon, my dear. As Evryn’s betrothed, you’ll naturally be most welcome there.”
Lady Amarind released what sounded like a horrified snort of laughter. “Goodness, in all my days, I never thought I’d live to see a Brightcrest enter The Charmed Leaf! What remarkable times we live in.”
“Of course Lady Mariselle will be visiting the tea house,” Evryn replied smoothly, even as his stomach dropped with the sudden realization that hehadn’t considered this particular social obligation. His grandmother would likely attempt to poison Mariselle’s tea. Or possibly strangle her with the vines that adorned the walls. “I look forward to introducing her to all its charms.”
Lady Amarind coughed, her eyebrows rising sharply. “Indeed! I highly doubt your grandmother is looking forward to it with quite the same enthusiasm.”
Something rebellious flared in Evryn’s chest at the implicit challenge to his autonomy. “On Thursday, in fact,” he heard himself say before he could think better of it. “Lady Mariselle has already accepted my invitation for afternoon tea.”
He felt, rather than saw, Mariselle tense slightly beside him.
“Grandmother,” Fin said as he appeared at Lady Amarind’s side, “you’re monopolizing the happy couple.” He offered Mariselle a deep bow. “Lady Mariselle, you look lovely this evening.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Mariselle replied with a perfect curtsy. “Though I fear Lord Rowanwood’s excessive floral tributes outshone me.”
“Nonsense,” Fin said. “I’m sure my good friend Evryn doesn’t believe any bloom could possibly compare to your natural beauty.”
“Absolutely,” Evryn agreed. “My beloved shimmering dewdrop outshines all the flowers in Bloomhaven.”
Mariselle summoned another pink flush to her cheeks. “You flatter me, my love.”
“It isn’t flattery if it’s true,” Evryn insisted, raising her hand to his lips once more.
Her expression froze into a mask of adoration that couldn’t quite disguise the murderous gleam in her eyes. Under different circumstances, Evryn imagined her hand would have connected sharply with his face. He considered this another triumph in their unspoken contest.
Evryn lowered Mariselle’s hand and turned back to the two elder ladies in time to see the meaningful glance the two exchanged. Lady Amarind inclined her head. “We mustn’t monopolize you on such a special evening,” she said, and the two women linked arms and turned away. Evryn had no doubt they were making a direct course to his grandmother to report the details of this uncomfortable encounter.
“Ah, I see Lord Emberdale,” Fin said, gesturing across the ballroom. “Ifyou’ll excuse me, I promised him a word about the art auction. The two of you will be there, I presume? The night after tomorrow.”
“Of course,” Evryn replied smoothly, though he had forgotten all about it. He didn’t often attend the annual art exhibition and auction hosted by the Emberdales. It ranked among the many formal occasions he typically abandoned in favor of the far more enticing freedom of racing through star-lit skies on Cobalt’s back. Beside him, Mariselle nodded.
“Excellent.” Fin stepped away, leaving the two of them alone once more, crystal glasses in hand. “I hope you’re enjoying the evening, my precious cinnamon dumpling,” Evryn said, his voice low but his eyes alight with triumph. “I certainly am.”
“You’ve been insufferable,” she replied through gritted teeth. “This performance has gone far beyond what was necessary.”
“I disagree. The High Lady is delighted, society is convinced, and our charade remains intact. I’d call that a resounding success.”
“You’re deliberately trying to provoke me.”
“I’m merely playing the role you assigned me,” he replied innocently. “Is it my fault if I excel at it?”
Mariselle turned to face him fully, her expression transformed into one of such perfect adoration that anyone watching would have sworn she was utterly besotted. Only the dangerous glitter in her eyes betrayed the venomous thoughts behind her smile. “This isn’t over, Rowanwood.”
