Contents
Copyright
Dedication
CHAPTER ONE He Thinks You’re Married
CHAPTER TWO Enjoying the Ruse
CHAPTER THREE Royal Welcoming Committee
CHAPTER FOUR More Like a Doll than a Slayer
CHAPTER FIVE Skip Over the Best Parts
CHAPTER SIX But a Very Handsome Thorn
CHAPTER SEVEN A Curious Shortage of Butterflies
CHAPTER EIGHT When Good Dragons Go Bad
CHAPTER NINE Quite the Catch
CHAPTER TEN Pastels are all the Rage -or- The Dressmaker and Her Hobgoblins
CHAPTER ELEVEN Work on Your Technique
CHAPTER TWELVE Royal Order of the Stag
CHAPTER THIRTEEN Stalker in the Castle
CHAPTER FOURTEEN A Secret Meeting
CHAPTER FIFTEEN Thane Scouting, Inc.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN Wildwood Larkwing
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN On a Wild Butterfly Chase
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Aren’t You a Shifty Fellow
CHAPTER NINETEEN Have a Cat
CHAPTER TWENTY Three Seconds Should Be Enough
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE Underground Masquerade
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO Lark & Song
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE Air Before a Storm
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR The Lower Entrance
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE Disappearing Dragon
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX Breaking and Entering
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN Uninvited Guests
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT No Dragon Left Behind
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE Do We Have a Choice?
CHAPTER THIRTY Did You Mean It?
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE Can You Catch?
Coming Soon
Free Novelette
About the Author
Wildwood Larkwing
Silver and Orchids, Book 3
Copyright © 2017 by Shari L. Tapscott
All rights reserved.
This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Editing by Z.A. Sunday
Cover Design by Shari L. Tapscott
For Zindy, Laurie, and Angie
I am so blessed to have you three as my aunts. You all mean the world to me.
CHAPTER ONE
He Thinks You’re Married
Phoenixes will burn you, basiliskas go for blood, and kelpies will lead you toward your death. But a lie…a lie will haunt you every night and burn you from the inside out.
“You told him what?” Adeline exclaims, looking at me as if I just said I was going to adopt a baby goblin and raise it as my own.
“I didn’t know what to do,” I hiss at a whisper, reminding the seamstress to keep quiet so our voices won’t travel through the infirmary’s door. “Gregory told me not to upset him.”
“But now he thinks you’re married!”
That’s one downside of my chosen profession—adventuress for hire. Sometimes you find yourself on a hidden island in a whirlpool, marrying the handsome captain who, only two months earlier, robbed you of one hundred and sixty thousand denat’s worth of Moss Forest orchids. And then, sometimes, said captain gets stabbed in the stomach by a deranged duchess whose husband was arrested by the king, and even though he’s near death, you must tell him the marriage wasn’t binding because:
1. You didn’t have a witness who spoke your language.
2. You had no idea what the vows you repeated were. (Again, different language.)
3. You didn’t—and I quote the kindly, white-haired clergyman—“consummate the marriage.”
Or…you don’t tell the handsome captain all that—which is the path I went with one month ago here in Mesilca, and I’ve been paying for it ever since.
Today, Gregory has finally given us the all-clear to move Avery from the infirmary onto the Greybrow Serpent so we may sail him home. Today, the captain is going to expect his wife to stay in his cabin with him. Today, I must tell him the truth.
Therefore, today, I want to hide under a rock.
“Do you think he’ll be angry?” Adeline asks, finally lowering her voice.
I shake my head. “No.”
My pretty friend frowns and nibbles her bottom lip in thought. She wears her auburn hair down, and she has on a traveling gown in dove gray—her own creation. After much thought and many tears, she’s decided to leave her family and come home to Reginae, with us. I never thought I’d say it at the beginning of summer, but I’m so grateful she is.
“Then why are you so worried?” she asks, genuinely confused.
“I’m not sure.”
Avery’s doing much better, and I know he can handle the news. I tell myself it’s because I’m embarrassed, but deep down, I know the truth.
I glance at the door and frown. “Perhaps some part of me—a small, tiny part—might wish it were true.”
Adeline’s expression softens, and she pulls me into an embrace. She smells exactly like lace looks—floral and feminine and slightly overwhelming, but in the nicest way.
“Yes, yes,” I say, gently pushing her away.
The seamstress has always been nice—in her own, snippy I-cannot-believe-you-go-in-public-in-those-rags sort of way, but she’s been especially kind now that I’ve ended any romantic confusion with Sebastian—my business partner and the man she’s over the moon for.
Of course, now Sebastian isn’t speaking to me. At all. Which will likely make business difficult when we get back home.
“It will be all right,” she promises. “And even if Avery’s angry at first, what’s he going to do? Toss you off the ship?”
Her words are meant to be reassuring, but I’ve said the exact same thing before and ended up floating in a dinghy in the middle of the Aelerian Sea.
CHAPTER TWO
Enjoying the Ruse
“Careful, Captain. Watch your step here,” Tom says as he and five other men assist Avery onto the dinghy that will take us to the Greybrow Serpent. The crewmen fuss over their captain with the skill of a flock of hens.
Avery grits his teeth. He looks like he’s about to toss them all into the cove. “I can walk.”
Their captain’s tone doesn’t deter the men, and they continue to coddle Avery, which only makes him more irritated. I hang back, trying to decide if I want to laugh or cringe. Once he’s in the boat and his men are satisfied, I step in and take the seat next to him.
Things are, for lack of a better word, awkward between the captain and me. We haven’t spoken about the “marriage,” and we certainly haven’t mentioned it to anyone else. Well, except for Adeline, but for obvious reasons, I haven’t told Avery about that.
I study him, looking for signs of exhaustion. Avery’s handsome, alarmingly so. He’s tall and rugged, well-muscled but lean. His hair is light brown—that particular shade that grows dark in the winter months and light in the summer. After our weeks in the tropical sun, it’s more blond than brown.
He catches me looking at him, and I give him a nervous smile. He narrows his eyes slightly and smiles back. He knows something. What, I have no idea, but he’s been giving me that look for weeks now. I feel I’ve been branded for all to see—liar.
It’s eating me alive. I’ll tell him as soon as we’re on the ship.
But I can’t do that
because as soon as we’re aboard the Serpent, Avery takes a wrong step and hisses in pain. His face goes pale, and I hold my breath along with everyone around us. Gregory, our mage and healer, frowns, and I don’t like the grim concern in his expression.
Avery waves his crewmen away—more like threatens he’ll keelhaul the lot of them if they don’t stop hovering. His stern expression makes him look formidable and older than his twenty-three years. Though he tries to hide the pain, it’s obvious this short jaunt from shore to ship was almost too taxing.
I hover on the deck as they usher him to his cabin, but I do not dare get too close. As I bite my lip, thinking over my options, the dinghy arrives with Adeline and Sebastian. Mason and Zeb, the seventeen and sixteen-year-old ship’s boys, practically trip over each other as they attempt to reach Adeline first so they may help her from the lift. At twenty, a year younger than Sebastian and me, she’s too old for them, but that doesn’t deter them in the slightest.
Adeline smiles, ever polite, and takes Zeb’s hand. Mason scowls but continues to hover, just in case Her Loveliness should require his assistance at some point. Sebastian, behind Adeline, wears a bored look. He’s pressed, polished, and combed—looking perfect in his cobalt doublet and long gray traveling jacket. His hair is teak, the darkest of cool chocolates, and every short strand is in place.
He looks past Adeline and her young entourage, and our eyes meet. I wait for that familiar catch in my breath, for my heart to stutter as it did the last time we were in Grenalda.
But there’s nothing there but the memory of handing him my heart only to have him respectfully, perhaps even regretfully, hand it back. Our relationship changed in that moment, or maybe it went back to the way it was before, when we were friends, oblivious to love. But we’re not quite friends now, not quite business partners, not quite acquaintances if appearances mean anything.
I miss him—not for what I wanted him to be—but for what he was. We’ve had our disagreements—we’ve had flat-out fights. But never this silence. Our arguments were loud, passionate. This is…different.
Sad.
And much, much too cordial.
Sebastian doesn’t look away this time, and I stare back, refusing to be the first to relent. I know what he wants. He wants me to turn away from Avery, come back to him, trail after him like the perfect pet I used to be. He came after me to Mesilca; I know he cares. But there are too many things keeping us apart. One of those things happens to be the man who is currently snarling at the crew in his captain’s cabin.
If Sebastian were to choose me, if he were to tell his grandfather he’s willing to walk away from his deceased father’s rightful title, estates, and inheritance, then it would all go to his third cousin—his third cousin who just happens to be Avery.
And there is no one in Kalae who Sebastian dislikes more than Avery.
Shaking his head, Sebastian finally looks away and walks briskly through the door that leads below deck. Adeline stares at him, lips parted, confused by his sudden departure. She wears her heart on her sleeve for all to see. I wonder if I was quite so obvious before I became jaded.
She looks at me, wanting me to explain Sebastian’s mood, but I only shrug.
“Lucia,” Gregory says behind me, drawing me from my brooding. He nods toward the captain’s cabin. “Captain Greybrow wants to see you.”
I look at the door, wary. “Did he say why?”
The mage shakes his head and gives me a strange look. Though we’ve told no one what happened on that island, Gregory suspects something. For all I know, Avery muttered about it when he was delirious with pain-relieving teas.
“Thank you, Gregory.”
Adeline steps to my side and gives me a bolstering smile. “Go on then.”
“Maybe now’s not the time…” I cringe because I know I’m just avoiding it.
“It’s like cauterizing a wound,” she says. “The pain is horrible, but you have to get it done and over with.”
“What do you know about cauterizing wounds?”
She shrugs cryptically and wanders after Sebastian.
***
I open the door slowly, hoping I dawdled long enough that Avery will be asleep. No luck.
He looks up from his desk, his hair ruffled and his eyes tired behind the spectacles he uses to read. Sitting back, he clasps his hands on the map in front of him.
“You should be resting,” I say, distracted. I love those glasses.
He raises an eyebrow, and even in his current state, my knees go soft. He removes the spectacles and settles deeper into the chair, silently showing me he’s not moving.
Stubborn. I never knew how stubborn the captain was until he took a knife in the stomach. He’s the worst patient—he never listens, tries to move too quickly, and doesn’t give himself the chance to heal. It’s that wretched Thane blood in him.
“You summoned me?” I ask, clasping my hands at my waist.
“And why do you think I did that?” His eyes find mine, and his eyebrow tilts knowingly.
“I’m assuming because you wanted to speak with me.” I am fully prepared to play it as cool as he is—even if my heart skitters with nerves.
“Why are you avoiding me, Lucia?”
The captain’s too tired for this conversation—I’m too tired for this conversation. Surely it can wait until tomorrow. Or better, next week. Maybe when we return to Kalae.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Avery stands. He walks toward me, taking his time—not because of his wound but to make me sweat. I gulp but stand my ground. Even barely on the right side of death’s door, Avery makes me feel things I’m not sure I should feel.
He stops right in front of me, too close yet too far. “I think it’s time we tell the crew.”
I panic. I can’t tell him yet, not when he’s already had such a taxing day.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. We just got on the ship…and…”
Chuckling under his breath, Avery brushes my hair behind my shoulder and grazes his lips over my ear. It’s the first contact of this kind we’ve had since we returned to Mesilca, and it muddles my brain. I sigh when his hands find my sides.
“Oh, but I think we must,” he says. “Imagine what they’ll say when I have your things brought to my cabin if we don’t inform them that you’re my wife.”
I shiver when he whispers the last word.
“Avery…” I close my eyes, tilting toward him. “There’s something we should discuss…”
His lips move to the edge of my jaw, and he whispers in a deep, dark, ever-so-alluring voice, “Like the fact that we’re not actually married?”
Startled, I gasp and push him away. “You knew!”
Avery sucks in a harsh breath, and I realize I’ve hurt him. I leap forward, grasping his arms. “Oh, I’m sorry. Are you all right? Here, sit.”
Gently as I’m able—which apparently isn’t very gentle at all—I lead him to the edge of his bed. I sit next to him with my arm wrapped around his back, feeling like a cow. For once, why can’t I be soft and sweet like Adeline?
The captain takes several moments to collect himself, and then he meets my eyes again. We’re close enough I could kiss him if I angled my head just slightly.
“The ceremony wasn’t binding,” I admit as I look away to avoid temptation.
This is too much for today—he didn’t need this. It’s exactly what Gregory’s been lecturing me to avoid.
“I know.”
“How did you find out?”
He gives me a wry smile. “You’ve been abnormally pleasant. It didn’t take me long to figure out something was amiss.”
“You almost died—of course, I’ve been pleasant.”
Ignoring me, he continues, “And whenever I attempted to broach the subject, you would suddenly have something ‘pressing’ to take care of. I spoke with the man from the church a few weeks ago.”
“Weeks?” I demand, looking back. “You let me
carry on this charade for weeks?”
His smile goes all the way to his light brown eyes, making the edges crinkle in a way I haven’t seen for at least a month. “I didn’t mind you fawning over me. Besides, you were enjoying the ruse. I didn’t know how to let you down gently.”
I glare at him and tell myself that I should not want to kiss a man this cocky. “Let me down gently? I think you’re a bit confused. I didn’t want to let you down.”
He full-out grins. “Is that so?”
I nod, absently noting that we’ve drifted even closer. “This certainly wasn’t about me.”
Avery angles his head, and his breath tickles my lips. “Admit it, Lucia—you want me. You want my ring on your finger, your clothes in my wardrobe, and a spot in my cabin.”
I suck in an offended breath, even if his words are truer than I will ever admit.
“You have some nerve—” I begin, but all rational thought leaves my brain when our lips barely brush. Getting close to Avery is like playing with fire. You know you should stop, but the flame’s too mesmerizing to walk away. Still, he’s just healing.
“Avery, you shouldn’t—”
“Don’t you start too.” His nose brushes mine, and delicious tingles travel my spine.
Honestly, who am I to fight the captain? And it’s been several long, long months since Avery’s kissed me.
I sink into him, needing more, careful to avoid his abdomen. His hand cups the back of my neck and his other drifts to my back, but his lips don’t quite meet mine. He explores my temples and my cheeks, but he never drifts where I so desperately want him to.
Just when I’m drunk on sensation and ready to demand more, Avery tilts his head back so he can look me in the eye. “Say it, Lucia. Admit that you wanted it to be real.” Then, carefully enunciating every word, he adds, “You want me.”
Still reeling from his kiss, I move back. My old friend Pride rails at the sure way Avery’s looking at me, as if he knows he’s cream to a cat. “No.”
He leans in and brushes his lips along my jaw as he whispers, “Are you sure about that?”
I angle my head away, needing to break contact so I can think. The captain plays dirty.
Wildwood Larkwing (Silver and Orchids Book 3) Page 1
