The Magic Between Us (Faerie)

by Tammy Falkner

  “I think the danger of that happening is past. Both of Claire’s children are fae, and they haven’t come to claim them.” Though why anyone would want either of those children, he had no idea. “So stop worrying.”

  “What if she doesn’t have the same feelings for me? You never had to worry about Cecelia’s feelings for you.”

  “I never worried because I knew when she hated me.” He laughed. “I knew when she hated me and I knew when she forgave me and I knew when she loved me again.”

  “You were an idiot,” Allen said blandly.

  “I know.”

  “It’s a miracle she took you back.”

  “I know.”

  “There’s a benefit to having a lady who has wings,” Allen said shyly.

  “What’s that?”

  “They can fly out their windows at night to come and see you, with no one the wiser.”

  Marcus wanted to hit himself in the forehead with the heel of his hand. Why hadn’t he thought of that? “Don’t steal that girl’s virtue,” he warned. Ainsley might annoy the devil out of him, but he still adored her, and she deserved better than someone who didn’t have true feelings for her.

  “You’re one to talk,” Allen said. He looked up at the painting on the wall, and Marcus felt a blush creep up his cheeks. “At least I don’t go sneaking into paintings to get her alone with me. How did you talk Mother into that, by the way?”

  “It was her idea,” Marcus said with a laugh.

  ***

  Ainsley looked at Cecelia across the sunny parlor and said, “I think Allen is going to ask me to marry him.”

  Cecelia startled. She’d almost forgotten Ainsley was there. She’d sat there stitching blindly, wasting time while she waited for Marcus to come downstairs. “What makes you think that?” Cecelia asked, setting her sewing to the side.

  Ainsley shrugged. “I just have a feeling. I think he’s afraid.”

  “Of you?” Cecelia scoffed.

  “Not so much of me, because when we’re alone, he doesn’t seem troubled by what or who I am at all. But when we’re with people, he seems a little discomfited. He doesn’t reach for my hand or put his arm around me or any of the things he does when we’re alone.” She looked into Cecelia’s eyes. “What do you think?”

  “I think you need not worry about his intentions. And he isn’t affectionate with you in public because they don’t do that in this world. Things are a little more rigid here. He was raised here, after all, so he thinks like them. You’re going to have to get used to it.”

  “He’s so proper most of the time. Like when I bump his shoulder, I can tell he likes it. He likes to play around with me. He likes to wrestle, and he tried to tickle me last night in his room.”

  Cecelia squealed. “What were you doing in his room?” She got up and moved to sit beside Ainsley. “Tell me. I have to know.”

  Ainsley shrugged. “Nothing bad. I just went to see him.” She scrunched up her face in a wince. “I think I startled him when I knocked on his window in faerie form.”

  “You didn’t!”

  “I did. I wanted to see him. He’d been with his father all day, and then he missed supper. I missed him.”

  “Oh dear, you are in love with him, aren’t you?”

  Tears filled Ainsley’s eyes. “I suppose I am. That’s terrible, isn’t it?”

  “Why is it terrible?” Cecelia asked. “I think it’s wonderful.”

  “He’s not fae. I’m not even certain my father will let me have a relationship with him.”

  “Your father is no idiot. He’ll be able to see what’s between the two of you when he meets Allen.” It was obvious to anyone who saw them together what their feelings were for one another.

  “He’s a good man,” Ainsley said with a heavy sigh.

  Cecelia narrowed her gaze at her friend. “But is he a good kisser?”

  Ainsley blushed even more. “The best.”

  “Is kissing all you’ve done with him?” Cecelia asked.

  “You’re awfully curious, aren’t you?” Ainsley chided.

  “I told you all about me and Marcus,” Cecelia reminded her.

  “Well, we haven’t done that,” Ainsley said. “But we did sleep in the same bed last night. I meant to leave earlier, but we were lying there talking and I fell asleep.”

  “Mmm-hmm,” Cecelia hummed.

  “He’s so soft and cuddly.” Ainsley’s blush deepened. “And so hard and rough at other times. In the best of ways,” she rushed on to say. “I want to sleep in his arms every night.”

  “He’ll ask you,” Cecelia said. “But don’t be surprised if he asks your father first. That’s how they do things here.”

  “I’d like to live in the land of the fae,” Ainsley said. “Do you think he’d be happy there?”

  “I think he’d be happy wherever you are,” Cecelia admitted. “He has stars in his eyes when he looks at you.”

  Ainsley’s eyes filled with tears and she whispered, “I think I love him. I think I love him a lot.”

  Cecelia patted her hand. “I know you do.”

  ***

  Marcus entered his father’s study, surprised to see Lord Phineas, the Duke of Robinsworth, and Allen all in the same room. “What did I miss?” Marcus asked as he walked in and sat down.

  “We have a bit of a problem,” the duke said.

  “It’s not a problem. I’m going to marry her,” Marcus rushed to say. “As soon as her father will let me.”

  The duke raised his brow and smirked. “We weren’t referring to your love life, though if you’d like to discuss that, I suppose we could.”

  “Oh.” Marcus wanted to bite his tongue. “Then to what are we referring?”

  “The Earl of Mayden is back in Town,” the duke said.

  Marcus had met the earl the prior year, in a violent altercation with Lord Phineas, and the man was dangerous. And he was determined to hurt someone. He should have been stopped back then, but no one had been able to find him for more than a year.

  “He’s in London?” Marcus asked.

  “He has been here for more than a month,” Lord Phineas said. “All that time we were in the land of the fae, he was right here.”

  A shiver crawled up Marcus’s spine. The earl could have harmed any one of their loved ones. “Why hasn’t he made his presence known? Perhaps he has turned over a new leaf?”

  The duke snorted. “He was courting someone and has recently married. She’s a young American chit who just came over from Boston. Her father is incredibly wealthy and wanted her to marry a title. He didn’t particularly care how impoverished it was.”

  “Or how corrupt it was?” Lord Phineas asked.

  “This American he married, she’s innocent in all of this,” Marcus reminded them.

  “Mayden can be charming when he chooses to be,” the duke said. “He’s slippery, too. And now he’s back, has adequate funds, and has been seen at White’s and at the track. He’s spending money hand over fist. And he’s also taken a mistress in Town.”

  “And his wife hasn’t killed him yet?”

  “They don’t do it that way here, Marcus,” his father reminded him. “It’s not uncommon for a man to take a mistress, even after he’s married.”

  Marcus couldn’t imagine ever wanting anyone but Cecelia.

  “His wife, and her father, for that matter, were charmed by his title. They don’t know what they’re dealing with. We’re the only ones who know,” his father reminded him.

  “So he has restored his place in society now.”

  “He’s respectable in every sense of the word,” Allen said.

  “So, what do we do?”

  “What do you all want to do?” his father asked. “Do we wait for him to strike? Or do we try to force his hand?”

  “I vote that we invite him and his new wife to the wedding celebration,” Lord Phineas suggested. “There’s no easier way to tell if he’s turned over a new leaf. He’ll show up and pretend nothing
has happened, or he’ll show up with demands about the fae, or he’ll not show up at all.”

  “He has something to hold over all our heads.”

  “Who would believe him?” the duke scoffed. “The idea that winged people live and work among the ton? It’s ridiculous.”

  “He doesn’t know about wings. Or faeries. All he knows is that Claire was somehow able to shove him into a painting. But he was more than a bit mad that day. He may not even remember it.” Lord Phineas shook his head. “You should have seen the look on his face. Before he tried to shoot Claire, his eyes were empty.”

  “So, what will we do?” Marcus asked.

  “Invite him,” Lord Phineas said with a shrug. “We’ll all be there, and I can have all of my men attend the event.”

  “The wedding is at my house,” the duke reminded them.

  “Why is it at your house?” Marcus asked.

  “Because I’m the bloody Duke of Robinsworth, that’s why,” Robinsworth said, grinning. “I say I want it at my house. And it’s at my house.”

  Marcus snorted. “Sophia told you that you were hosting it, didn’t she? And you couldn’t say no.”

  “Well,” he muttered, “it might have happened that way. Or it might have happened the way I said it did. You’ll never know.”

  “Oh, we know,” all the men muttered at once, and then laughter shook the room.

  Twenty-Two

  Marcus waited before the fountain in Robinsworth’s serene garden, his family in attendance, along with Cecelia’s father and Ainsley. It was a small gathering, and society wouldn’t join them for the celebration until later. There would be dinner and dancing and… danger.

  “Marcus, could I have a word with you?” Mr. Hewitt asked, taking Marcus’s elbow in his hand.

  “I believe my bride is about to come down,” Marcus complained. “Can it wait?”

  Marcus looked around. He really didn’t want to go with Mr. Hewitt, but he supposed he had better. As the father of the bride, Mr. Hewitt could withdraw his blessing if he so chose. He could withdraw it despite the marriage settlement they’d agreed upon. Not that it would matter. Marcus would marry Cecelia that day and take her as his own wife even if he had to tie her father up and stuff him in a barrel for safe keeping. Well, he wouldn’t do that, but he would do just about anything to make her his.

  She’d been busy all week with dresses and shopping and flowers and preparations. And they hadn’t even spent any time together since their trip into the painting. He supposed it was for the best. Absence made the heart grow fonder and all that. He was feeling damn fond of her right now.

  “I suppose we could talk. Can it be done quickly?” Marcus asked. He ushered his soon-to-be father-in-law toward the rear of Robinsworth’s garden. “Is something the matter?” he asked. “It’s not Cecelia, is it?”

  Mr. Hewitt shook his head. “I just wanted to tell you thank you,” he said. He looked directly into Marcus’s eyes. His eyes were so much like Cecelia’s. Only there was a shadow of pain in the man’s eyes. Even now, he looked like he was hurting.

  Marcus wasn’t at all sure what he was being thanked for.

  “Thank you for rescuing Cecelia from me. Thank you for rescuing me from myself.” He stuck out a hand to shake. Marcus took it in his, and the man’s grip was firm and assuring.

  “Thank you for letting me have her for a lifetime,” Marcus said. He suddenly had a lump in his throat. “I promise to take care of her.”

  “I know you will. You’ll take better care of her than I ever did.”

  “That’s not true,” Marcus protested.

  But the man held up a hand. “It is true. I just hope she has forgiven me.”

  “She has,” said a voice from behind them. Marcus turned to find Cecelia standing in the sunlight. She wore his mother’s wedding dress, or so he’d been told. It shone as if there were prisms of crystal sewn into the material. When she moved, the sun reflected off the gown, spilling rainbows of light all around them.

  “Goodness,” Marcus breathed.

  Marcus had never seen anyone more beautiful. Cecelia’s dark hair was piled atop her head, with tiny tendrils cascading down her neck. Her ears pointed out through her hair, and she even had her wings displayed. Marcus had almost forgotten how very beautiful they were. She’d been so human in his mind lately that he’d almost forgotten she was fae. That they were fae. That they were part of something so much bigger than themselves.

  A blush crept up her cheeks, and her wings pinkened to the same color as her cheeks. He couldn’t wait to see her naked, to touch her wings, and to feel her around him, her magic mixing with his in a way that only their magic together could.

  “You weren’t supposed to hear that,” Mr. Hewitt scolded.

  She smiled and slid her hand into her father’s. “I needed to hear it.” She stood up on tiptoe and kissed her father’s cheek. Her eyes shone with unshed tears.

  “I’ve made you cry on your wedding day,” he said, reaching up to wipe her tear. He heaved a huge sigh. “I had more to say to Mr. Thorne,” he said. “But I suppose I can say it with you here.”

  Cecelia nodded, her gaze curious.

  Mr. Hewitt said clearly, “If you ever hurt my daughter, I will hurt you.”

  Marcus’s eyebrows lifted. He choked on his next words. But then he had to remind himself that when he and Cecelia had a daughter, he would feel exactly the same. “If I do, I’ll deserve it.”

  Marcus held his arm out to Cecelia. “Shall we go and get married?” he asked.

  But her father knocked his arm out of the way and threaded Cecelia’s arm through his. “She’s still mine until the vicar pronounces you husband and wife,” he said. But he winked at Cecelia, and she beamed under his attention. She needed this. She needed for her father to make amends.

  Marcus followed behind the two of them, all the way back to where the family was assembled. Ainsley’s hand was in Allen’s, and they would be next to get married, Marcus was certain. Allen had already spoken to Ainsley’s father, and he almost had the man’s blessing.

  Ronald and Milly sat in the back row, and Milly had her hand settled within Ronald’s. Marcus would never get used to that. He’d always assumed Ronald was a solitary individual. But even Ronald deserved someone to love.

  Claire and Lord Phineas, and the Duke of Robinsworth and Sophia, along with the duke’s daughter, Lady Anne, took up the second row. The babies were snug in the nursery, thank goodness.

  Marcus stepped into place in front of the vicar and held his hand out to Cecelia. She nestled her hand in his, her palms damp and warm. He pulled her close to his side and finally felt like he could take a deep breath. He’d almost missed this. He’d almost given up his chance for a happily-ever-after with this woman.

  The vicar’s voice rang out loud and clear. “Wilt thou have this Woman to thy wedded Wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”

  Cecelia squeezed his hand gently, but he needed no prodding. “I will,” he said. He would. He would. He would again and again and again.

  The vicar asked Cecelia the same question as she looked up at Marcus and said, “I will.”

  Marcus reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring Mr. Hewitt had given him the day before. He slipped it onto her fourth finger, and she looked up at him, a question in her eyes. It was obvious the moment she realized it was her mother’s ring, because tears filled her eyes. Marcus swallowed past the lump in his own throat when Cecelia turned to her father and mouthed the words, “Thank you.”

  He smiled back, wiping a tear from beneath his eye.

  “With this Ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly Goods I thee endow,” Marcus said. “I pronounce that they be man and wife together, in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen.”
>
  And it was done. Cecelia was his. She would be his forever and a day. Nothing would ever separate them, save death, and Marcus would fight that with his last breath. Cecelia looked up at him, her eyes sparkling. He picked up her ring and kissed the purple moonstone in its platinum band. “Mine,” he said.

  She nodded and stepped up onto her tiptoes to kiss him.

  His father coughed into his fist. “Shall we have some cake?” he asked.

  Mr. Hewitt chuckled, clapped Marcus on the back with a heavy hand, and said, “I think we should.”

  ***

  Marcus was watching her from across the room. She could feel his gaze on her, and the hair on the back of her neck stood up, as did the fine little hairs on her wings. It wasn’t often she wore her wings in public, but His Grace’s house was apparently fae friendly. The butler didn’t even blink when he walked into the room to find it full of faeries, as Sophia, Claire, Ainsley, and her mother all had their wings on display that day. It was a special day, after all. And they all were safe in the walled garden that was the duke’s sanctuary and in the house.

  “Your husband looks like he wants to come over here and steal you away,” Claire murmured, laughing at her.

  “Do you have a painting you can shove us into?” Cecelia asked.

  “I doubt that would work right now,” Claire admitted, “although I wouldn’t be surprised if he were to come and sling you over his shoulder.”

  It wouldn’t be the first time he’d done so. The last time, it was to get her away from her father. To keep her safe. He would keep her safe always, of that she had no doubts. She never had to worry about him harming her or about him allowing anyone else to do so. Marcus loved her. He’d chased the dream of a family for six months, but he’d realized she was his family and the only one who truly mattered, or so he’d told her. His family would be there later. And now, so would she.

  “I wouldn’t complain if he tossed me over his shoulder,” Cecelia admitted.

  “Eww,” Sophia complained.