by Alyssa Cole
“If you’re trying to muscle your way into the job, insulting Portia isn’t the way to do it, lass.”
Leslie shook her head. “I’m not trying to insult her. I’m being frank, because I thought you appreciated frankness. She’s American. She has little experience with the peerage. Worst of all, she loves you.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Tavish said, though his irritation was being replaced with a hope he tried not to show. “Things are not like that—”
“She’s willing to give her all to make this work for you, even if she can’t. If you felt the same, would you let her? Because I have to tell you, after years of making everything go smoothly for David, love is the last thing I feel for him.”
“Oh, that’s sorted. Her apprenticeship is almost over,” he said. “It was always going to be three months. We’ve already discussed replacing her.”
“Oh dear,” Leslie sighed. “You really don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into.”
“Look, I get it. You think I don’t fit in with any of these people and I’m going to make a fool of myself.”
Tavish thought he would, too, but he was starting to understand how he needed to move forward.
“Well, possibly. But I was talking about with Ms. Hobbs.” She patted his arm. “Give me a call next week and we can discuss finding you a secretary when she goes. Possibly me, or someone else if you’d prefer that.”
“Why is it that everyone seems to know what I need more than I do?” Tav asked irritably.
“Why is it you’re waiting for someone to tell you?” Leslie countered, and something else clicked into place for him. He’d told Portia he’d replace her, that she should go. He was so thick he’d thought that was giving her space, but maybe there was such a thing as too much space.
Bloody hell. Tav had said he’d likely be the one to cock up, without realizing he already had.
“You’re lucky I like you, cuzzo,” he said and was rewarded with a brief smile, one that faltered.
“Be careful, Tavish. I know all of this seems frivolous and silly, but some people take it quite seriously. There’s Ms. Hobbs by the way.”
Tav turned and saw Portia chatting with Lord Washburn. Johan strolled up and handed her a glass of punch, like it was his duty, and jealousy twisted in Tav’s stomach. He ignored it—ignored the fact that Johan was already rich and wouldn’t need things explained to him like a child. Johan had been nothing but a friend to him and he wasn’t going to repay him by using him as a convenient target when he was angry with himself.
Portia nodded politely as Johan and Washburn talked, but her head swiveled every few seconds. She was looking for him, too, he knew, and then she found him. Her gaze latched onto his and he felt the connection between them like a physical thing. Molten metal waiting to be shaped; if he let it go cold, it would become an ugly, useless lump instead of the beautiful item he knew they were capable of creating together. She was a claymore’s length away from him and it was still too far.
“Save a reel for me, Tavish,” Leslie said, then headed off. Tav didn’t take his eyes from Portia, just walked straight to her.
“Hullo,” he said. She smiled, looked up at him from under her lashes.
“How is the evening treating you, Your Grace?” she asked.
“It’s treated me well so far, but I find I need a breath of fresh air,” he said. “Leslie was telling me about the gardens.”
He held out his hand to her and she took it.
“I assume I’m not invited,” Johan said pleasantly.
“Of course, you are,” Portia said.
“Of course, you’re not,” Tavish echoed. “We won’t be gone long.”
“Don’t worry, I’m used to being cast aside. Lord Washburn here will keep me entertained, I’m sure.” He didn’t sound like he found the man entertaining, but he winked at Tavish and began talking to the elderly lord anyway.
Tav led Portia through the crowds and out into the sprawling garden. Summer was evident in the blossoming canopies overhead, and the flowers carpeting the grounds. The air smelled green and fresh in a way Tav didn’t often encounter in Bodotria, outside of the river walk.
“Everything okay?” Portia asked.
“I figure. It seems like I’m being received well enough, but we’re all pretending to like each other so it doesn’t matter in the end.” He shrugged.
“I kicked David in the balls,” she said casually, “after he had the bright idea to grab me and threaten me.”
Tav was already turning around and heading back toward the building and throttle the bastard, but a blast of cool air where there shouldn’t have been any stopped him. Portia was tugging at his kilt to keep him in place. She slid her arm through his and pulled until he started walking alongside her again. His heart was beating fast and a fury he hadn’t felt possibly ever throbbed in his blood.
“I handled it,” she said. “So just pretend I never told you anything. But after I go, be careful. I don’t trust him. I don’t know if you can trust Leslie either, though she seems nice.”
“You expect me not to knock him across the room as soon as I get back in there?” he asked.
“I expect you not to give him the satisfaction,” she said. “He’s already saying all kinds of horrible things about you. A public display of masculinity will just validate him. And piss me off. You need to be more devious.”
He slid his arm around her shoulders. “I can be devious when the mood strikes,” he said. “That mood isn’t now, though. I was so busy being a Cro-Magnon that I didn’t ask the most obvious question. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she said, but her voice was a little shaky and her smile was halfhearted. He could feel the hunch of her shoulders beneath his hold.
“Portia, tell me the truth. Your well-being is not a bother to me.”
“It’s silly. I’ve had guys try worse, trust me. It just freaked me out how angry he was, and how much it hurt when he wouldn’t let go.”
A sick sensation roiled through Tav’s stomach at the thought of David and unknown men frightening Portia. Hurting her.
“I’m sorry. What do you want me to do?”
“Exactly what you’re doing right now. Hold me for a minute, okay?”
Tav realized Portia had asked him only three things since he’d met her. For a chance to prove herself, how she could help him, and, now, to be held. This was one thing he could do right. He enveloped her in his arms, inhaling her faint floral scent.
“Don’t say anything to him tonight,” she said into his chest. “It will make a scene, and I’d prefer to keep things positive.”
“Well, I’d prefer to break David’s fingers. That sounds pretty positive to me.” She tensed in his grip and he rubbed a hand over the exposed skin of her back. “But I won’t. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do. I will be talking about this with someone later though, if that’s all right.”
She sighed against him. “Sure. I bet you weren’t expecting all that when you lured me out here to have your way with me, in preparation for your role of newest rake in town. Ravishing women in the garden is like rule number one of raking.”
“Shite, I haven’t gotten to Debrett’s Rules of Raking, yet,” Tav said, and she laughed into his chest. He cleared his throat in preparation for the fairly important thing he was about to say. Maybe if he didn’t make a big deal out of it, she wouldn’t. “I didn’t bring you to the gardens to ravish you. I lured you out here to ask you to stay.”
She went tense in his embrace again, and then her head snapped up, hitting him in the chin. Okay, playing it cool hadn’t worked.
“Sorry,” she winced. “What do you mean, though?”
“I mean that I don’t want you to leave after the apprenticeship is over. I know everything is all mixed up right now, but I want you to stay and to see if maybe we can try dating. Or something?”
She blinked at him, then blinked again. “You want me to stay here, in a f
oreign country, just to date you?”
“Well, when you put it like that it sounds pretty selfish, actually.”
“Didn’t you just tell me I should go work for my parents? Now you’re asking me to stay? What if I say yes and then tomorrow you change your mind again?”
Tav took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I thought you wanted to go work for your parents. You seemed determined and, yeah, I didn’t think I could ask you to stay here on the possibility of more. I wasn’t sure I had the right to ask that. But I’m doing it now.”
She took a deep breath. “I promised my parents I would take a bigger role in the family company,” she said. “They were depending on me and I can’t—”
“Fuck this up,” he said at the same time as her. “If you want to go that’s one thing, but if you’re just going back to make your parents happy, maybe don’t.”
“I should stay here to make you happy instead?” She slid out from under his arms, and he could feel her pulling away entirely. “And that’s not what I was going to say. I was going to say I can’t use them as an excuse anymore because they hired someone else. They decided to go with someone more useful, and I can’t say they made the wrong choice.”
“I know what I want, Portia,” Tav said gently.
“Do you? Or do you just want to make sure you still have a secretary?”
There was panic building in her voice, and Tav realized too late that he’d bungled everything. He’d moved from point A to point B too fast, when Portia had explicitly told him she wasn’t sure she could make it to point B, or even wanted to. Her actions had said otherwise though, hadn’t they?
Like asking you for boundaries?
“I know that I don’t want to lose you.”
“How exactly do you think that this will play out?” she asked quietly. “I stay, and do what exactly? I don’t know anyone here but you and your family. I don’t even have any skills. What kind of work would I do?”
Tavish was extremely confused.
“You’ve done literally everything for the armory, lass.”
“And I think that’s the problem,” she said, ignoring his point. “You probably realize it will be easier to just keep me around instead of getting a new assistant.”
“Well, no, I am getting a new assistant. I’ve said that already.”
“Well then, why would you need me?” she asked, in a flat tone that left Tav confused. Depending on what word was emphasized by her emotions, that question could have several different meanings with different answers.
The raw vulnerability in her eyes made him want to gather her close again. But he couldn’t just shag her in a hedge bush and assume she understood that meant he cared for her. He’d have to use his words.
“Do you think your only value to me is as an assistant? An apprentice?” He shook his head. “You started out as my apprentice, then you became my indispensable squire, and now you’re my . . . my liege lady.”
“Your what?” She seemed both annoyed and confused.
Tav struggled to find a way to put it into words without revealing everything but it was too late. Portia would do an internet search on the term anyway. He sighed. “You’re my liege. You’re the person I’m fighting for.”
Her mouth trembled but her expression was incredulous.
“You don’t even know me,” she said. “I stopped drinking because I was running from myself and trying to find it at the bottom of any handy cocktail glass. I slept around. I disappointed people. I’m almost thirty and I’ve never even had a stable career!”
Tav chuckled ruefully. “Is that your offensive? You think I’ll hate you now and never want to see you again because you’re a human being?” He stepped closer to her and slid his hand behind her neck, rubbing soothingly up and down.
“Stop trying to make me feel better,” she said.
“Okay, I’ll make you feel worse. You’re a horrible person who deserves to be trapped forever walking a road covered in discarded Legos, without shoes. Nothing but sharp Lego corners ripping at your soles for eternity.”
She didn’t say anything.
“Did you catch the pun there? Soles and soul.”
“Tavish.” She sighed and her eyes finally met his, full of caution. “You really are a wanker.”
He dropped a kiss on her forehead.
“I can think of loads of reasons for why I would need you, and no not just for sex, before you go there. For example—you’re bloody magnificent. You’re smart as fuck, and you can do literally anything you put your mind to.”
She hiccupped a sob and wrapped her arms around him.
“I could try to convince you all night, but this is actually your decision. Do you want to explore this thing between us in a non ‘itch scratching’ manner? If so, do you reckon it would be to your benefit or detriment? Give it a think. Because if anyone should be worrying about not being good enough, it’s me. I’m a bloody Bodotria geezer who makes swords and has a shite attitude. Christ, what are you even doing standing this close to me? Are you mad?”
Her next sob turned into choked laughter, and she looked up at him with a sliver of pleasure in her eyes. “Bodotria Geezer is your new supervillain name.”
Hope warmed Tav from the inside out.
“Just think about it. If you don’t want to stay then maybe we can figure something else out. I don’t know you as well as I could. I don’t have any right to make demands. But, Christ, I don’t want to lose you.”
That was the gist of it. He could no longer imagine life without her and he didn’t want to. Maybe they’d give it a try and it’d all go to shit. Maybe she wouldn’t want to even give them a chance to get to that point. But he’d had to think hard about what he wanted in this new life, and a chance with Portia was high on that list.
“Let’s go back inside,” she said quietly. “The meal is going to start soon.”
She hadn’t answered his question. She hadn’t said how she felt about him. Tav had gotten two huge life changes he hadn’t asked for. He could only hope that this one thing that made sense in his world could be his, too.
Chapter 27
Portia’s head was pounding. No, not only pounding, it was also vibrating. She pried her eyes open and squinted through the morning sunlight streaming into the room.
Morning.
She and Tavish had spoken the night before. He’d asked her to stay with him. She hadn’t answered, but her heart had been filled with possibility when they’d returned to the ball. She remembered schmoozing and sitting down for dinner. Haggis had actually been better than she’d expected—she’d shared that on social media along with some clips of the Highland dancing. The last thing she remembered was getting tossed this way and that during some traditional Scottish reels. Tavish holding her hand so tightly each time they were partnered. Johan bringing her another glass of punch . . .
What is happening?
The vibration echoed in her skull again, and again, and she reached under the pillow and grabbed her phone. She saw that the screen was covered by notification messages just before the battery died and the screen went black. She always carried at least one travel charger that was ready to go and plugged her phone in before bed as religiously as some people said their prayers. She couldn’t remember the last time it had died.
When you were drinking. That’s when.
She crawled out of bed to find she was still in her frilly, if now flattened, dress. Someone had done her the courtesy of unzipping the bodice so she could breathe while sleeping. Her mouth tasted gross, and from more than a single night of forgetting to brush.
Panic began to set in as she ran her tongue over her teeth. Waking up bleary had once been common for her, but there was no reason she should feel like she’d been hit by a truck heading to Margaritaville with a rush delivery. Not now. She was New Portia and . . .
She pulled her bedroom door open and jogged to the kitchen, where she heard voices echoing down the hall.
“L
ook, she said flat out she had a drinking problem, bruv. I guess now you can see why she stayed off the sauce,” Jamie said, then sighed. “I hope she’s okay. She couldn’t even walk.”
They can’t mean—I didn’t—
“Oh, how awful. These pictures are obviously taken from strange angles,” Cheryl said. “To make it look like . . .”
“The one of us isn’t,” Tavish said. His voice was subdued, but she felt the anger in it. Was he mad at her? How had this happened? “Fuck’s sake, this is a disaster. And I don’t even care if she snogged every bastard there, but . . . this is a right disaster.”
Portia stepped into the kitchen, the rustle of her disheveled dress drawing everyone’s gaze to her.
She’d expected them to be talking over breakfast, but Cheryl was already busy prepping for lunch at Doctor Hu’s. Jamie was in his sweaty workout clothes, meaning the morning class was over. Tav was dressed in his usual worn-in jeans and T-shirt, but they all wore similar apprehensive looks on their faces.
“What happened?” she asked. “What—I don’t remember anything.”
True panic took over then. She’d been truly wasted in her past, but she’d always had some baseline memory, or scraps of them. There hadn’t been a total void during which anything could have happened.
“Tavish?”
He pushed himself away from the counter where he’d been leaning. “Looks like we made the papers again.”
He shoved her the copy of the Looking Glass Daily.
THE DUKE’S DRUNKEN DUCHESS TO BE?
“What? No. I didn’t drink anything.” Portia didn’t understand this. She hadn’t had anything but punch. She placed a hand to her chest and tried to pull in a deep breath.
I tried so hard and still somehow I managed to ruin everything.
Tav sighed. “After the dancing. I went to the loo and got stopped by about fifty geezers on my way back. I have no idea how long it took. You’d been fine, but when I found you, you were yelling at Washburn about the results of some cooking competition. Johan was trying to play along and act like this was all normal, but then you keeled over.”
