“You may have my collection of acorns. They’re in my room in a big gold chest beneath my bed.”
“Why would I want a lot of stupid nuts?”
“You can plant them, then watch them grow. ’Tis a good deed to help Mother Nature.”
“That old crone? She and Old Man Winter are two of the meanest beings I know. Last year, Mother Nature tried to drown me with her tears. And Old Man Winter had everything I touched turn into ice. I nearly broke my tooth trying to eat a frozen apple.”
“I might have done the same to you had you picked my blackberries before they were ripe and melted my snowflakes before they’d had the chance to put the weary summer to sleep.”
At that, Harmony let out a peal of laughter. “My, that’s rich! ’Tisn’t in you to seek retribution of any kind, sister. You’re too much of a ninny. You allowed the Trinity to treat you as though you were nothing more than an insect he could crush beneath his heel, did you not? He’s but a human duke— whatever that is—and you’re a fairy princess! The princess royal of Pillywiggin! If some human man ordered me to eat animal, I’d turn him into a slime-trailing slug!”
Splendor sighed. “I cannot very well turn my future husband into a slug, Harmony. Now are you going to cure me of these prickles, or aren’t you?”
“On one condition. Give me leave to do that kissing with the Trinity.”
Splendor felt a keen sense of discomfort over Harmony’s request. A burning sensation, it began in the middle of her belly and spread all throughout her body. After a moment, she realized the feeling came from her unwillingness to share any part of Jourdian.
“He is mine,” she said softly. “Every part of him belongs to me, including his kissing.”
“I’m not trying to steal the man away from you, Splendor. I only want to taste a bit of his vigor. Why should you get all the strength? Surely he has enough for me, too!”
Still unwilling to share her long-sought-after possession, Splendor didn’t reply.
“You look ugly with those prickles, sister,” Harmony said slyly. “And they’re bound to grow worse. Before long, you’ll be one seething mass of bloody welts, and the Trinity will abhor the sight of you.”
Splendor realized the truth of her sister’s words. “Oh, very well. You may take a kiss from him, but it must be a short one, and you must never take another.”
Smiling, Harmony threw a ball of stardust at her sister, and Splendor felt immediate relief when her itchy hives disappeared.
“So,” Harmony said, “when is the wedding?”
Splendor turned away.
“I’ll tell you when the wedding will be,” Harmony continued. “Never! The Trinity isn’t at all enchanted with you, Splendor. On the contrary, he wants you out of his house! And you, ninny that you are, stood right there and let him lock you in this stuffy room! Father was wrong. You’re never going to become the Trinity’s bride. The three months will pass, and you will have failed to conceive the child we need in Pillywiggin.”
Splendor squelched her dismay and lifted her chin a bit. “I shall nay fail.”
“You will. He is miserable with you here.”
“He will soon be happier than he has ever been.”
Harmony sneered. “We’ll see.”
Splendor didn’t care for the wicked gleam in her sister’s eyes, nor did she like the sly tone in her voice. Harmony was up to no good. “Harmony, you are devising mischief. You must leave this house now and promise never to come back. If you do not—”
She stopped speaking when the doorknob rattled.
In an instant, Harmony disappeared.
“It’s me—Tessie, miss,” the maid said as she opened the door and walked into the room.
Splendor watched how Tessie tried to conceal the crimson marks on her face by keeping her head bent low. “The stains on your face are a great source of embarrassment to you, aren’t they, Tessie?” she asked gently.
“Aye, miss, they are,” Tessie squeaked.
Umm, Splendor mused. Now she had to find two people deserving of afflictions—one for Ulmstead’s baldness and one for Tessie’s facial stains. “Perhaps they will fade in time,” she offered tenderly.
Touching her birthmarks, Tessie shook her head, then held out a white bottle of skin lotion. “His Grace wanted me to bring this to you.”
Splendor took the flask, opened it, and smelled its contents. The luscious aroma of sweet apricots permeated her senses.
“Lord Amberville says you need it for what ails you,” Tessie added.
At the moment, hunger ailed her, Splendor mused. Her stomach growling and her mouth watering, she lifted the bottle to her lips and swallowed the fruity concoction.
Tessie’s mouth dropped wide open. “You… Miss… You drank it!”
Splendor licked a few drops of the elixir off her bottom lip. “Aye, that is what I did, and ’twas ambrosial.”
Tessie stared. No wonder the duke had decided to keep the long-haired girl locked up in the room. The miss was blooming dotty!
As fast as she could move, Tessie backed into the hall.
“Tessie, wait! I must speak with My Grace!” Splendor floated to the door just as the maid closed it. She reached for the knob, but snatched her hand away when she heard a clicking sound in the lock. The lock itself was of brass, as was the doorknob.
But the key Tessie used was iron.
Splendor drew back instantly. Standing in the middle of the room, she lifted the empty white bottle to her chest. As she caressed its neck with her thumb, a realization began to dawn on her.
Quickly, she looked down at the bottle. Was it possible that Jourdian had sent her the savory apricot drink because he regretted his harsh treatment of her? She’d told him herself that she only ate bread, cream, and fruit, and then, a short time later, Tessie had brought the drink.
He did care! Why, with a bit of luck it was quite possible that she would be Jourdian’s bride by nightfall!
Filled with happiness and the irrepressible need to be with her betrothed, she approached the door again.
But she hesitated before reaching it. A shiver of fear passed through her as she sensed the fact that the iron key remained in the lock.
Her desire to find Jourdian deepening by the second, Splendor did what any fairy would do when locked inside a room she no longer wished to be in.
She walked through the wall.
Chapter Five
Splendor wandered through the mansion aimlessly. One staircase led to another maze of corridors, and each corridor led to another set of luxurious rooms. Jourdian was in none of them. Indeed, she didn’t come upon a single person during her search and wondered if she was the only being in the gigantic house.
Frustrated and tired after an hour of roaming, she shrank wearily into her original size and reclined inside a silver dish that sat upon the top of a lamp table in the hall, despairing of ever finding Jourdian. But a noise in a nearby room renewed her hope.
She flew into the room and saw a grand array of musical instruments in the midst of which stood a donkey. “Delicious!” she cried, floating toward him. “Where have you been?”
Delicious brayed and swished his tail.
Perching on his head, Splendor glanced at the musical instruments. How she loved music. And poetry, artwork, tapestries, and all other forms of creativity. She often wondered if humans were aware of how powerful a force Faerie truly was in relation to creativity. Did they know that when the Muse was upon them to create…when they felt an irresistible inspiration to write, compose, paint, sculpt, or weave, that it was because a fairy was present, urging them to produce something beautiful for the world?
’Twas the truth, whether humans knew it or not.
“Let us hear a bit of music right now, Delicious, shall we, sweetling?”
She lifted her hands and watched her magic fill the room. Silver sparkles surrounding them, the instruments of Splendor’s choice began to play. Flutes and violins. Two harps and a myriad of bel
ls.
And Splendor, with her arms held out before her, conducted the beautiful symphony. Louder and stronger she had the melody play…
Until a scream cut short her pleasure. Her silvery magic faded instantly, and the instruments clattered to the marble floor.
Splendor turned around and saw a terrified girl standing in the hallway.
Shaking violently, the girl fled.
“Oh, Delicious, do you think she saw me?” Splendor asked. “Or… Sweet everlasting, ’twas the magical music that so frightened her!”
Swiftly, she regained human size and swept toward the door. But when she reached the hallway, the girl was nowhere to be seen.
Her hair brushed over the carpet as she sailed down the corridor, at the end of which was yet another flight of stairs, which led her to yet another endless hall of rooms. Determined to find the frightened girl and somehow soothe her terror, she flew faster.
A door opened as she reached the middle of the hallway. Sure the girl was inside, Splendor soared into the room. “Girl?” she called. “Are you here? I didn’t mean to frighten you. Girl?” Drifting back down to the floor, she didn’t see the lass anywhere, but she did notice how large and sumptuous the quarters were.
Against the wall in front of her sat a mammoth bed covered in midnight blue. Generous swathes of the same commanding color fell gracefully from the four elaborately carved posts of the canopy.
The bed rested upon a high dais, making it seem all the more enormous. Splendor felt sure that if it were her bed, she would have to fly in order to get into it.
The rest of the furniture was equally imposing, all large and all of thick, heavy wood. The very atmosphere felt intimidating.
A powerful being dwelt here. Splendor was sure of it.
“What are you doing in here?” a deep voice demanded.
Splendor gasped with surprise, then whirled around and saw Jourdian, his hand still wrapped around the doorknob. “My Grace! Of course, this room can belong to no one else but you!” Smiling with all the joy she felt at seeing him, she glided to where he stood and cupped his cheeks with her hands. “I searched everywhere for you and became lost. I can nay remember being so lost or alone. I wasn’t afraid, but I was terribly frustrated. I’ve found you now, though, haven’t I?”
There it was again, he thought. That odd glow about her. And he knew for certain that it was not caused by sunshine. Dusk had begun to fall.
“You shimmer,” he whispered, more to himself than to her.
“Only when I’m happy.” She caressed the mole on his cheek with the tip of her thumb. “’Tis so nice, this dot on your face. Like the black center in some kinds of white and yellow daisies. I hope you never wish it away.”
“Daisies?”
“I must find the girl. She was so scared, and ’tis nay my practice to frighten anyone.”
Jourdian saw tears gather in her eyes. He frowned. God, how her emotions changed. Only seconds ago, she was bubbling over with happiness, and now she was weeping! How was it possible for a person to slip from one emotion into another so quickly?
“I know those who do enjoy sowing fear,” Splendor continued, “but I am nay one of them. ’Tis a much better thing to spread joy than to—”
“Cease this chatter.” Reaching up, Jourdian pulled her hands off his face.
“My Grace—”
He slammed the door, then noticed her hives were gone. She must have used the lotion he’d had the maid take to her. Well at least she’d followed one of his orders, he mused irritably. “I told you to stay in your room.”
She lifted her chin and one auburn eyebrow. “’Twas nay my desire to stay in it.”
Damn the chit! Did she think herself a member of royalty? “I know you understand English because that is what you speak. So why is it that you cannot comprehend the simple fact that your desires matter naught to me? I have told you to stay in the room I provided you, and I have told you to wear the clothing brought to you. Yet, here you are in my room, naked as the day you were born.”
Stiff with anger, Jourdian marched to his closet, jerked the door open, and rummaged through his clothing. As he rifled through the garments, a pair of heavy black riding boots fell off a high shelf. One banged down on his head, and the other smacked his shoulder.
“Bloody hell!” he shouted, rubbing his head. Looking down at the floor of the closet, he saw the boots and couldn’t understand how they’d fallen.
“My Grace, is something amiss?” Splendor approached the closet, noted Jourdian’s expression of confusion and pain, and then saw a smattering of silver twinkles near the floor.
Harmony.
“The boots fell on me,” Jourdian answered gruffly.
Quickly, Splendor surveyed the closet and the rest of the room. She didn’t see Harmony anywhere, but remained certain her naughty sister had been in the closet.
“Are you hurt?” she asked Jourdian. Reaching up, she touched her fingers to the spot on his head she’d seen him rub. “I am ever so sorry such a mishap befell you, My Grace.”
Her touch and the gentle compassion in her voice alleviated all traces of his pain. Indeed, he felt a profound sense of well-being. “I—I’m fine now.” Turning back to the clothing in the closet, he retrieved an elegant dressing robe.
“What do you want me to do with this?” Splendor asked when he handed it to her.
Was she deliberately needling him? he wondered. The woman was bare naked, for God’s sake, and she needed him to tell her what she was to do with the robe?
His irritation returned in a flash. “Why don’t you just hold it for a while? The dark purple looks smashing in your hands. Or perhaps you might throw it on the floor and walk on it. It will certainly feel soft beneath your feet.”
The fact that he wanted her to feel softness beneath her feet made Splendor smile with deep pleasure. Holding the lustrous fabric before her, she began to spread it upon the floor.
Realizing she’d taken his sarcasm to heart and was about to walk on the robe, Jourdian yanked it out of her hands and held it out so that she easily could slip into it. “Put it on.”
Splendor slid her arms into the sleeves, then watched as Jourdian pulled the front together and tied the sash. “Oh, ’tis glorious!” she said, rubbing her hands over the exquisite material. “What is it, My Grace?”
He’d have to have been blind not to notice how the dark purple satin complemented her lavender eyes and wondrous russet hair. It was as if the color had been created especially for her.
“Satin,” he murmured.
“Satin? And what is this?” She pointed to the upper left side of the garment, where gold and silver threads were embroidered into an elaborate design.
“My crest,” he answered softly.
She looked up and saw him watching her intently. “My Grace, you’re staring at me like a famished frog again, and there is nay reason for you to do so now that my body is covered by this piece of satin.”
His anger ignited again. At her, and at himself for gaping at her as if she were the only pretty girl he’d ever set eyes on.
She was right. He truly was acting like a famished frog, absurd though the comparison was.
“You left your rooms,” he said again, stalking out of the closet. “What the bloody hell do I have to do to get through to you?”
Her smile melted into a soft frown. He was as bitter as a green persimmon.
But he hadn’t always been so harsh…
The very first time she’d ever seen him was the afternoon she’d discovered him crying in the rose garden. He’d been but a lad then, barely taller than the rosebushes. She hadn’t known the reason for his tears, nor had she understood why his grief had lasted so long, but the memory of his deep pain had stayed with her all through the years.
After that, she’d looked for him frequently, sometimes finding him waving good-bye to a man and a woman she believed to be his parents. After their coach was out of sight, he’d hang his head and kick at sto
nes until he could find no more to kick.
She brought to mind the many times she’d watched him stare into the distance with a look of longing on his face—as if waiting for something or someone to return to him, and she pondered all the occasions she’d watched him try to learn games from another boy. He hadn’t learned very well, she recalled. Nor had he possessed the same appreciation for nature as the other boy had. That lad had found something remarkable about every leaf, stone, and flower he’d happened upon.
But not Jourdian.
Splendor sighed then, finally remembering all the nights she’d seen Jourdian’s silent wishes soar into the dark sky to be cuddled by the wishing stars.
Oh, how she’d guarded those stars! She’d never let a one die, but had taken special care of them so that the wishes they contained could one day come true.
“So many wishes.” Slowly, she approached Jourdian, stopping when her breasts met his chest. “You’ve such sadness inside you, My Grace,” she whispered, reaching out to lay her hand on his upper arm. “’Tis dark and cold and almost as old as you, this sorrow, running through you like a deep tunnel in the ground. I cannot begin to imagine such profound woe.”
Her perception astonished him, and for one short moment he wondered what else she’d sensed about him.
But his curiosity quickly vanished. Lord knew Emil analyzed his emotions often enough. He certainly didn’t need yet another person to perform the same psychological dissection, especially this girl, who didn’t know him well enough to even presume she could discern his feelings!
“Will you tell me the reasons for your woe?” Splendor asked.
He took hold of her hand, having every intention of snatching it away. But just as his fingers closed around hers, something in her extraordinary eyes stilled his action.
Something…a glimmer…not unlike the glow radiating from her skin…
A tender shine that sought and found a crack in his stony resolve to withstand the power of her charms. Dear God, she was a gorgeous vision to behold. Almost too beautiful to believe.
And her sweetness seemed an almost tangible thing, as if he could reach out and hold it in his hand like a measure of fine sugar.
A Basket of Wishes Page 7
