“More,” I agreed, crying out. “Oh yes, more.”
The soft click of the door swinging open stirred me back to consciousness.
For a moment, I didn’t know where I was, didn’t know the time of day.
My body felt long and limpid with bliss, like a dot of sealing wax stamped across a spread of thick and creamy parchment. I flexed my toes, stretched my shoulders, and took stock of my surroundings. I felt the soft rhythmic movement of Alexander’s chest as he breathed in and out. Through the slit in the curtains, I could see the sky had turned a vibrant shade of lilac, streaked through with golden peach clouds.
I was in Alex’s room.
It was sunset.
A lazy smile warmed my lips as I remembered the moments before we’d drifted to sleep, tangled together in a joyous embrace. Those moments had put to rest so many of the questions Alex feared.
I dared to picture a new future with him, one with children of our own. Children with my dark hair, his green eyes. They wouldn’t be the extraordinary golden beings Gerard hoped for, but they would be wholly ours. Wholly perfect.
I gasped as I spotted a figure peeking into the bedchamber and struggled to free myself from Alex’s limbs, heavy in sleep.
“Frederick?” I guessed, squinting in the darkened room.
Beside me, Alex sighed, his eyes fluttering open. He spotted me and his smile was wicked and full. “Morning.”
“Evening,” I corrected.
I no longer felt intoxicated but my head ached, throbbing with every syllable I uttered. I looked hopefully at the pitcher of water on Alex’s nightstand, but it was empty.
“Master Laurent,” Frederick said, drawing attention as he turned the gas lamps on, brightening the room. “I’m so sorry to barge in on you…and Miss Thaumas…like this.”
“What is it, Frederick?” Alex asked, pushing himself into a sitting position.
“I’ve come to get you.”
Alex glanced at his clock. “For what?”
The manservant’s gaze fell to the ground, his lip trembling. “You need to come with me, sir.”
“Tell me,” Alex persisted. “Whatever it is, you can say it in front of Verity.”
He clasped his fingers together, wringing them bloodless. “It’s your mother.”
Dauphine.
The tavern.
“If she’s awake, we should go speak with her,” I murmured to Alex. “As soon as possible.”
He nodded. “Could you bring the chair over for me, please, Frederick?”
Frederick sprang into action. I pushed myself from the opposite side of the bed, straightening my skirts and finding the sparkling slippers I’d kicked aside earlier. I jammed my toes into the golden leather, ready to be off.
“Your mother…” Frederick opened his mouth but the remaining words refused to fall.
He’d bent over to adjust the chair’s footrest. Alex reached up to touch the valet’s shoulders. They were shaking.
Alex frowned. “Frederick? What’s wrong?”
“It’s Lady Laurent…She…I’m afraid to tell you…she’sdead.”
“Dead?” Alex and I gasped, responding at the same time.
