by Lish McBride
He laughed then, his body shaking. “No you don’t. You look like you’re taking your medicine.” The song ended, and he waited for Kaiya to pick another tune. Amaury bowed before stepping into Ellery’s hold, his lips moving as he instructed the healer through the steps. Val sauntered over to the piano, offering to turn the pages of the music for Kaiya. When she agreed, Val slid next to her on the piano bench. Kaiya smiled in thanks, and Val lit up so bright, Tevin was concerned she’d combust.
“You’re a hot commodity at every ball you attend?” Merit asked once Kaiya had picked a tune and started playing.
“Yes.” He pulled her back into position, twirling her around to the music. “For me, it’s part of the job. I’m like one of those little monkeys you see dancing at the circus.”
She snorted. “Tevin, put a jaunty little hat on me, and I am that dancing monkey.”
He grinned at her. “What can I do to help you relax?”
“It would be easier if you weren’t”—she waved a hand at him—“you know.”
“I can wear a bag over my head, if that helps.”
“No, I don’t think it will.” She would still be able to feel his hands, hear his voice. That voice alone was trouble. “Tell me something. Anything that will make you less perfect.”
He barked a laugh. “I’m far from perfect. You may look like a beast, but I am one.” He twirled her, and it felt like she was floating along the dance floor. “Besides, as your assistant, don’t you want me to be perfect?”
“Perfect for everyone else, but not for me, okay?” Merit settled into his embrace as he thought. She really had missed this, and Tevin was an excellent dance partner.
“When I first met Val, she punched me in the face.”
Whatever she’d been expecting, that wasn’t it. “Excuse me?”
“She thought I was trying to steal her girl. Insults were exchanged. We’d just met, and Val didn’t think much of me yet.”
“What did you do?”
Tevin’s eyes took on a far-off look, his attention more on the memory than her. “I showed her how to throw a better punch. Val is great with pistols, but she neglects her up-close work. We ended up outside the saloon, jackets off, having an impromptu boxing match.”
“What happened to the girl?”
Tevin’s eyes came back to hers, but they’d warmed, and that barrier he kept between himself and the rest of the world was down. “While Val and I were rolling in the dirt, she found someone more civilized to spend her time with.”
“Smart girl.”
“I thought so.”
* * *
• • •
As the evening wore on, Merit lost track of how long they’d danced. She was tired, her patience frayed, and she was having issues with her tail. She’d stepped on Tevin’s toes enough times to worry that he’d have a permanent limp. Ellery had made excuses twenty minutes ago to go soak in a bath. Val badgered Amaury into taking over at the piano so that she could dance with Kaiya.
“I’m done,” Merit said. “Amaury, stop, please.” The music immediately halted as Amaury removed his fingers from the piano keys.
Tevin shook his head. “You’re still having balance issues. We don’t have much time to prepare, Merit. You’re going to have to push yourself.” He whirled her around the floor. How was he not tired?
“I’m well aware of the situation, Tevin.” Her tail snapped back and forth, causing her to tip too far to one side and trip on his feet again. He didn’t say anything, but his expression clearly implied, See what I mean?
“I wouldn’t have tripped if I wasn’t so tired.”
“Fairly certain it was more about the tail.” His voice wasn’t condescending, but it was placating, and she hated it.
She growled.
“One more round, Merit,” Tevin coaxed, but he didn’t wait for an answer.
She roared in his face. Not a bellow, not a yell, but a roar worthy of the beast she was. Merit’s mother had raised her to believe that you should never raise your voice. Powerful ladies shouldn’t need to, but she wasn’t a lady right now, was she? She was a beast, and she was going to act like it. The claws on her feet dug into the floor as she bellowed again, her tail lashing now. “I said I was done!”
The ballroom was silent. Val and Amaury stared. Kaiya, blast her, had a look of worry on her face. Merit never yelled unless her mother was involved.
Tevin dropped his arms from around her and calmly took out a handkerchief, wiping the spittle off his face and vest. It had been a solid roar. She waited for him to yell back. To make his own growl. But he seemed to be made of nothing but patience. He simply crossed his arms and watched her, like a parent waiting for a child to stop their tantrum. Despite the fact that she was, essentially, doing just that, she didn’t care for the condescension. She roared again, the sound coming up from her toes and echoing through the angry chamber of her body. She went on for so long she was panting at the end of it, her vision sparkling from lack of oxygen.
Tevin tucked away his handkerchief. “As milady wishes.” He bowed. Then he walked away, and Merit was left with the feeling that neither of them were happy with how the evening had ended.
CHAPTER 12
A BALL GONE HORRIBLY WRONG
He shouldn’t have pushed her during practice. It had been an amateur mistake. The number one thing he was supposed to be good at? Reading the room. Merit had obviously been tired. What was he thinking? He’d taken control away from her, knowing full well that it was a bad idea. The beast didn’t like to be bossed around, and neither did Merit. She got enough of that from her mother. He wished he’d been able to apologize earlier, but Merit had avoided him all morning.
“Your bow tie is crooked,” Val admonished, stepping close and adjusting it for him.
He slapped her hands away. “You’ll only make it worse. I’ll have Amaury do it.”
“You can tie a bow tie sleeping upside down in a dark room,” Val said. “You missed your calling as a vampire with formal wear. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” His tone promised pursuing the subject would lead to a horrible death. “Amaury!”
Amaury sauntered into Merit’s main foyer, dressed flawlessly in a white waistcoat, black swallowtail jacket, trousers, and black bow tie. He was tucking a red carnation into his button hole. Tevin noticed with consternation that his bow tie was perfect.
“For shame, older brother.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Tevin glowered at Amaury.
He had the cheek to almost smile, or as close as Amaury usually came to it. “I do.”
“What does that mean?” Val asked, biting into an apple she’d filched from somewhere. To no one’s surprise, Val was dressed identically to Amaury. She even had her red hair slicked back with oil.
“You look very dapper,” Tevin said. “Amaury, help me with my tie.”
“Thank you,” Val said. “I’m trying to impress Kaiya.” She raised a single brow. “Think it will work? Nothing seems to be catching her attention so far.”
“You mean she’s not instantly swooning into your arms? How dare she.” Tevin stole her apple and took a bite. “We’ve only been here a few days, Val. Kaiya probably has standards—”
“Standards?” Amaury’s expression turned stony. “You’re doomed, Val.”
“That’s not what I meant, so stop messing with Val.” Tevin tossed the apple back to his cousin. “Kaiya knows her own worth, meaning Val is going to have to put some effort in.”
Val snatched the apple out of the air. “She’s worth it. Now spill, Amaury. I want the skinny on Tevin.”
Amaury looked smug as he loosened Tevin’s bow tie, smoothing it before he began to retie it.
“I take it back,” Tevin bit out. “You don’t look dapper. You look like a hayseed from a provincial backwater.”
> “I am a hayseed from a provincial backwater. Tern is a rural barony. Now, stop avoiding the discussion.”
Tevin’s suit was too tight. His very skin felt too tight. It had to be the tie. He glared at Amaury. “You’re choking me.”
“Hogwash.” Amaury let go of his tie with a flourish. “The suit is perfect. You owe Merit an apology.”
“Hogwash? You sound like Val.” Still, it was a veritable speech from his brother. He’d screwed up. “I know. I should have listened to her.” He ran a hand over his face. “Why didn’t I?” He’d asked the last question to himself, but Amaury answered it anyway.
“You were having fun.” Amaury’s lip twitched again. “Every time she growled or hissed, you smiled.” His gaze grew speculative.
“I don’t like that look,” Tevin said. “That look leads to trouble. Stop it.”
Kaiya walked in with a man at her side and introduced him to the group as her uncle Glendon, the ambassador from Hane. Tevin greeted him, seeing the faint resemblance to Kaiya in his face. Glendon was tall and broad-shouldered, his easy smile bright against the tan of his skin, his dark hair brushed back.
Glendon grinned. “So you’re the lot that has Lady Zarla in an uproar.” The grin became a sly one. “I approve. The Cravans need to be shaken up a bit.”
Kaiya touched his shoulder, her eyes twinkling. “You look very handsome tonight, Uncle. I’m sure Lady Zarla will agree with me.”
“Thank you,” Glendon said, shooting his cuffs. “I try.”
Tevin glanced over and realized that Val was frozen with the apple halfway to her mouth. A faint flush marked her cheekbones as she openly stared at Kaiya in her evening finery. He nudged Val with his foot, reanimating her. Val blushed harder and looked away, biting into her apple.
Kaiya was pretty on a normal day, but she’d gone out of her way tonight. Her sleeveless dress was black, simple in design but expertly cut, the fabric flowing along the lean lines of her body. The skirt reached the floor, and when she moved, Tevin could see a flash of skin through the slits that reached almost to her thigh. She’d braided a silver ribbon into her black hair, the contrast catching the eye. It was simple, sophisticated, and causing a slow flush to crawl up Val’s cheeks.
“You’re going to choke on that apple if you’re not careful,” Tevin whispered. Val elbowed him.
“I’ve not forgotten my duty,” Glendon said. “I’ll save several dances for Lady Zarla. As a favor to you, of course.”
Kaiya snorted. “You would dance with her anyway. You like—”
Glendon mock-scowled at her. “That’s enough, I think.”
“I would appreciate it. Thank you for coming,” Tevin said. Merit and her mother had gone separately, and were supposed to meet them there. He thought it would be better if people witnessed him seeking Merit out in the crowd and then doting on her. Not that he’d had much of a choice. Merit had all but insisted in the note she’d sent him. A note. She was so mad she wouldn’t even track him down in her own house.
“I’m happy to escort you,” Glendon said, smoothing the front of his jacket. “If only to make sure no one contests your invitations.” He straightened, looking every inch the fairyborn gentleman, absolutely at ease in his finery. He examined the group. “I’ll say this, I highly doubt anyone will question your story. You lot look like a bunch of moneyed upstarts. It’s going to be difficult getting some of the starchier aristocrats to accept you, though.”
Val patted his shoulder. “You’ve never seen the DuMonts work a ballroom. Trust me, Glendon. They’ll have them eating out of their hands.”
* * *
• • •
Tevin sipped his champagne, the bubbles hitting the back of his throat. He was tempted to drink a whole vat of it and erase this entire evening from his mind. Somehow they’d beat Merit to the ball. A few of the dowagers had surprisingly quick hands, and as a result, he was gaining a large bruise on his back end. He was starving, bored, and worried about Merit.
“You’re scowling again,” Val said under her breath. “You might not want to kick up your heels with these lovely ladies, but I do, and you’re scaring them off. I want Kaiya to see what she’s missing. Or if that fails, to distract myself for a little bit.”
“You’re welcome to them, cousin. Just don’t forget to gather information as you cavort about the place.” He’d danced with several young women, and they’d spent the entire time blushing and twittering. He hadn’t realized how annoying that was until tonight, and he couldn’t help comparing it with the night before. Amaury was right. He had been having fun. Oh, not when Merit got upset, but dancing with her as she snapped and scowled had been refreshing. Obviously there was something wrong with him.
“That’s a little uncharitable of you, Tev. You’re a handsome fella, with fairy-boosted charm. These sheltered chits don’t stand a chance. And need I remind you that I’m a seasoned cavorter? I can manage some high-spirited capering and dig for dirt at the same time.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m in a mood.” Tevin scanned the room for the fiftieth time. Glendon was currently chatting with a horsey-looking gentleman of indeterminate age. He’d lost Amaury about ten seconds after walking through the doors. He’d danced with Kaiya when they first arrived, but hadn’t seen her since. Only Val stood by him.
“Stop staring at the entrance. She’ll get here when she gets here.” Val tipped her head at a pretty young woman swathed in a puffy confection of white lace. Tevin thought the dress made her look like an uncooked meringue. He was being an ass. The Meringue blushed at Val and flicked open her fan.
“Blast. I forget what that particular flick means.” Someone walked in front of Val, and she stood on her toes to get a better look.
“Get down, you’re not a prairie dog.” He grabbed her shoulder and gently pushed her back onto her heels. “It means she’s amenable to meeting you on the terrace for some ‘air.’ ”
Val’s side-eye was heavy on the skepticism. “She said that with her fan? Are you yanking my chain?”
Tevin shook his head and swapped his empty glass with a fresh one from a tray floating past on the hand of a liveried servant. “I would never.”
Despite Val’s lineage, or Tevin’s lack of one, they’d spent about the same amount of time in ballrooms over the last few years. Fan language, a subtle way for young people to pass messages, had developed as a way to get around chaperones. The DuMont siblings had memorized it quickly for obvious reasons, but Val hadn’t really needed to. Tevin might tease her about her country ways, but that didn’t change the fact that Val still had fairy blood in her veins and a barony in her family. A connection to her was desirable. A connection to Tevin was not.
Val still eyed him. “How do you remember all of this?”
“It’s my job. Now, if you’d care to join her, I would recommend heading to the terrace. Be nice about her horrific dress.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Everything.”
“You’re grouchy,” Val said. “Go waltz with someone. Cheer yourself up.”
Val took a meandering route to the terrace, stopping to greet a few people, then heading out the open patio doors.
Tevin figured his cousin was right and he needed to circulate and see what he could learn. He managed two country reels before he found a partner who could stop giggling long enough to speak a whole sentence to him.
“I’m not looking to marry,” the young woman said, her gray eyes meeting his. Her round face and pointed chin were framed by a short black bob with bangs, giving her a puckish air. Tevin’s seasoned eye knew that her beaded silver dress meant money. He’d been wondering why she’d been holding the wallpaper up and not dancing, but if she started every conversation this bluntly, that was probably his answer.
“I think we’re supposed to at least pretend to consider it,” Tevin said, twirling her
about. She danced gracefully. So far everything was falling into the positive column, so either she hated the concept of matrimony, or . . . “Ah, besieged by fortune hunters, are we?”
She grinned. “I’m considering building a moat and filling it with them.”
Tevin chuckled. “Milady, I will help you dig it, but I will not help to fill it.”
“You don’t want my money?” she said, one sable brow winging up.
“I have plenty,” he lied. “After some point, it’s unfair, isn’t it? We must leave some for the others.”
“Oh, I like you.” She smiled up at him. “Wilhelmina. My friends call me Willa.”
“Tevin,” he said. “I don’t have any friends.”
She laughed. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Is it only the fortune hunters that have soured you on marriage, or is it something else?”
Willa looked over his shoulder, her face thoughtful. “My sister was granted a fairy gift—every time she speaks, precious jewels or beautiful flowers fall from her lips. The fairy thought this a grand idea. Only now she’s constantly pursued by men who wish to benefit from that gift. My sister is beautiful and kind—it’s hard for her to tell them to go away or to believe that they don’t have better motives.”
Her story seemed familiar, and Tevin realized he’d heard it from Merit. This must be her friend. “It seems we have someone in common. I’m currently a guest at Lady Merit’s house.” He stuck with the official story. If Merit wanted to tell Willa the details of their partnership, she was welcome to, but it wasn’t his secret to share.
She brightened. “Really? Well, if you’re looking for friends, she’s a good one to have. Merit’s really been there for me and my sister.”
“It sounds like it hasn’t been easy,” Tevin said, keeping their steps light, even if the conversation wasn’t. “For any of you.”
“Diadora chipped a tooth on a ruby once, and she’s allergic to flowers. The only way she can enjoy an evening such as this is by taking a tincture of bloom.” She shook her head. “If a husband marries her for her gift, he’ll encourage her to talk until she’s broken her teeth and her nose is raw from sneezing.” She dipped her head. “People are monsters.”
