Quintin’s heart surged. “Did the invitation come at her request?”
“No, it was my doing.” Isabel grinned and clasped her hands. “As a little surprise for her, so the evening will not be too dull.”
“A surprise,” he echoed, his excitement fleeing as quickly as it came.
“She’s talked so much about your bravery facing the bogbear, I thought she might enjoy your company.” Isabel’s eyebrows wiggled suggestively. “Especially after the bonfire.”
Heat spread from his face down his neck. “Surely more eligible men are already here.”
“You don’t need prospects to provide Allgoday fun. We’ll be traveling to the capitol to find her a husband soon enough. Before we go, I thought you could give her a little needed experience with men since she scorns proper suitors.”
“If Em should scorn you as well, it would be my pleasure to help you forget the insult,” Isabel’s mother offered.
Isabel laughed. “Mother! Do I need to find you some harmless fun of your own?”
Quintin backed away from the women, his stomach churning. His one night of mindless sex haunted him. He had no interest in a similar encounter.
It had been a mistake to come.
Chapter 44
“There you are, and with feathers in your hair this time.”
Em turned from Catherine and Jon to greet Curtis with a cold smile. “Blessings of all the gods to you.” She held out a platter of spicy treats. “Please enjoy what Merdale has to offer.”
Curtis selected a date, his gaze oozing over her bare shoulder like a slug. “And what exactly is Merdale offering?”
Em pointed at the items on her tray as she listed them off. “We have candied ginger, cinnamon dumplings, stuffed peppers, wine-soaked dates—”
“Do you want to hear what I’m offering?” He stepped closer and touched one of the feathers framing her face.
She jerked her head away from his hand. “I’d rather not.”
“Oh, come now. It’s Allgoday and you’re not wearing a choli. Don’t tell me you aren’t interested in a little fun.”
“Not with you, I’m not.”
Curtis popped the date into his mouth and grinned. “Well, I’m going to stick close to you. The bonfire is about to burn, and I wouldn’t miss watching you toss those stunning red flowers on the flames for anything.”
Em gritted her teeth and shifted away, gripping the edges of the tray, ready to smack him with it if he touched her again.
“Leave Em alone and go enjoy the fire behind the barracks,” Jonathan suggested, cocking his thumb at the other side of the gardens.
Curtis smirked. “You should be glad your half-dressed sister has distracted me. I had planned on following you and the young miss after the bonfire.”
Catherine shrank back with a gasp.
Jonathan planted his hands on his hips. “Go to the second fire, Curtis. Violet and some friends are going to be rolling the bones for clothing as soon as the sun goes down. Their entertainments will be much more to your taste than anything out here.”
Curtis snorted. “The bones always love Violet.”
“Which only means you’ll be out of your himation faster.”
Curtis chuckled. “What do you think, Emmie? You want to lose your sari on a roll of the bones?”
She sniffed. “I’ve never had much interest in gambling.”
“Violet is always more fun than you,” Curtis tossed over his shoulder as he swaggered away.
Em narrowed her eyes at her brother. “What about you, Jon? Are you going to try your luck behind the barracks?”
“No.” He captured Catherine’s hand for a kiss. “I’m through with gambling, especially with the likes of them.”
His betrothed sighed dreamily. “Thanks for chasing him away.”
“Hey, I can’t let anyone talk to my sister like that.” Jon winked at Em. “Even if she is half-dressed.”
“I haven’t got a knife to eviscerate him with, so your gallantry was appreciated.” Em’s teasing tone masked the sincerity of her words.
“Come on.” Jon tugged Catherine’s hand. “Father will be lighting the bonfire soon. We don’t want to miss it.”
As her brother and his secret betrothed scampered away, Em returned to her duties with a heavy heart. She politely offered the blessings of the day to any nearby guests yet remained untouched by the celebration all around her.
Holding out her tray to yet another pair of guests, she noticed a man slipping away from the crowd. Her fingers bit into the platter. Was it Quintin?
As he disappeared into the trees, she banished the fanciful thought. Her father would never invite a lowly taxman to the festival. In her loneliness, she saw him everywhere.
“Now where did he go?” Isabel said from at Em’s elbow. “Vexing man.”
Em pointed her chin toward the unlit bonfire. “Gregory is over there.”
“Not Gregory. Your Hand, Quintin.”
Her heart jumped. “Quintin is here? I thought I’d imagined him. Did Father invite him?”
“No, I did.”
Em gaped at her sister by marriage. “What? Why?”
Isabel shrugged. “A woman deserves a little fun on Allgoday.”
“You plan on finding him at sunset?” Em’s stomach rebelled at the thought of the beautiful woman alone with Quintin.
“Not me, silly. You.” Isabel nudged Em with her elbow. “I’ve seen the way your eyes sparkle when you talk about the heroic Hand who fought the bogbear. Allgoday is the perfect excuse to indulge in a romance.”
The trees cast thick shadows where Quintin had disappeared. Em’s heart pounded at the idea of following him into the darkness, though whether in fear or excitement, she did not know.
“He doesn’t want me,” she murmured, giving voice to her fear.
“Then why did he come?” Isabel sniffed. “He spurns this august company and was quite forlorn you had not instigated the invitation.”
“He thought I invited him?”
“He hoped as much and was downtrodden when I told him the invitation came from me.” Isabel elbowed Em again. “Why don’t you follow after him and see if you can cheer him up?”
“Why are you doing this? Don’t you want me to stay here and flirt with more eligible men?”
“As if you ever would.” Isabel snorted. “As I predicted, you’re glowing at the mere mention of your Hand. Who knows, maybe you’ll manage to spare us a trip to the capitol.”
Em stilled. “He will never marry me.”
“Then best to get over him with some Allgoday fun.” Isabel swooped the welcome platter out of Em’s hands. “It is almost sunset. If you want to catch your Hand, you’d better be quick.”
Em left Isabel behind to slip between the trees after Quintin. She paused to get her bearings and let her eyes adjust to the twilight gloom under the canopy. Where could Quintin be? Stumbling around in the dark held little appeal, though it was better than mingling with the revelers while the bonfire burned.
An animal appeared between the trees in front of her.
Em froze, her fingers itching for an atlatl.
As the animal moved, she let out a gusty sigh of relief. She pressed her palms together and bent in a deep bow. “Joyous Allgoday to you, Elkart.”
The waccat rubbed his head against her hip, emitting a rumbling noise suspiciously like a purr.
She scratched his ears. “Can you lead me to Quintin?”
The waccat bobbed his head in a gesture eerily like a human nod before heading between the trees.
She focused on tracking him in the darkness and scarcely noticed where he led her until they broke through the trees at the ridge of a hill. She was surprised to find herself in the clearing
where the bogbear had attacked. It seemed like a lifetime ago, though it had been less than a week.
Quintin sat on the fallen trunk, his back to her as he faced the festive gardens. Adorable in a loose himation threatening to slip off his shoulder, he tugged at his queue in a familiar nervous gesture.
Her heart swelled.
In this very spot, he had protected her from danger and confessed his love for her. A love she couldn’t let him walk away from. Not without a fight.
With careful steps, she crossed the clearing and sat down next to him.
He reared back in surprise. “Lady Emmanuella! What are you doing here?”
She braced her hands on the rough bark of the fallen tree. “Aren’t we past you calling me Lady? At least when we’re alone?”
“I suppose.” He turned back to the view of the garden. “Why aren’t you down there where you belong?”
“I don’t care for crowds. Normally I would have returned to my room by now.”
“So why didn’t you?”
“You’re here.”
He sucked in his breath with a hiss. “And you wanted to have a little fun with me?”
“What else is Allgoday for?”
Before he could answer, a great cheer rose from below as the bonfire grew from a merry little blaze to a roaring inferno. Torches all around the garden sprang to life, casting a magical glow on the festivities. Colorful sparks shot into the sky as the burning sticks caught fire. Elegant revelers laughed and danced around the bonfire, tossing herbs and bouquets onto the flames.
“Give me your nosegay,” she said, holding out a hand to Quintin.
“What?”
“It’s sunset and time to honor the gods for the gift of fire. I assume you can’t burn it yourself.”
“No.” He fumbled with his brooch. “I’ve never done the ritual like this before.”
She carefully unpinned the flowers from her sari. Without a choli underneath, her sari threatened to slither off her shoulder and expose her breasts. This was why Allgoday festivals got so rowdy after sunset. Everyone’s clothes started falling off. Though Quintin’s himation needed no encouragement. The old-fashioned garment left one of his shoulders and half of his glorious chest bare.
Her body quickened with longing.
Clutching at his clothes, he handed her a clump of herbs tied with a woolen cord in Merdale colors. “Do we need to say some prayers?”
“If you wish. I’ll be saying my own prayers to call the fire.” She cleared a spot for their offerings and added a few dried leaves and twigs. With his voice rumbling prayers beside her, she begged all the gods to bless her with heat. Giving off a pungent aroma, the offerings smoldered before bursting into flame.
Careful to hold her sari in place, she turned from watching the flames, and gazed at his face. As difficult as they were to see in the fading light, his features were as dear to her as her own breath.
A bawdy song rose through the night air from the festivities below.
Em smiled, struck by an impulse to join in and celebrate the pure magic of being alive.
She shifted her body into the pose of welcome. Her mother always told her, when she complained about the strict formality of hospitality, that there would come a time when she would want to welcome a man into her heart as well as her home. Instead of drowning them both with emotion, the ritual would act like a boat, allowing her esteem to float above the heat in her blood.
Em had never known exactly what her mother meant until now.
She held up her hand with the end of her sari trailing over her fingers. “Joyous Allgoday to you, Han-Auditor Quintin of Jardin. May you savor all I have to offer.”
Chapter 45
Lightheaded with desire, Quintin gulped in air and struggled for sanity. Em knelt at his feet with the end of her sari held out to him. Her meaning was perfectly clear. If he took hold of her pallu, she would be naked before him in short order. His loose wrap meant it would be the work of a moment to free his burgeoning member from the folds of his clothes. He could almost feel her lips closing around him again. His cock twitched at the thought.
Wasn’t this the kind of reckless, impulsive act Allgoday was supposed to inspire?
His hands curled into fists. Allgoday or not, he could not bring himself to touch her.
As the silence after her offer lengthened, she slowly raised her questioning eyes to his.
“I’m sorry, Em.”
She tucked her sari back over her shoulder, covering the swell of her breast. Hurt flashed across her face.
His gut twisted. If only he could be the careless lover she wanted. Instead his heart bled from their encounter in the steamroom. It couldn’t take another beating tonight.
Her eyes narrowed, her gaze fixed on where his arousal tented his clothes. “You do want me.”
“Always.” Quintin resisted the urge to cover himself with his hands. He could give her his honesty if nothing else. “Touching you is like touching the stars.”
“Then why turn me away?” she asked. “On Allgoday no less, when you can have what you want with no regrets, no expectations.”
“Allgoday does not have the power to change the way I feel.” The depression dogging him squeezed fresh pain out of his heart. “I barely managed to walk away from you once. I can’t do it again, Allgoday or no.”
“Then don’t.”
“What?”
“Don’t walk away.” She drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around her legs. She looked less like a Lady and more like a child playing dress-up. “Starting tomorrow, I’m going to spend a lot of time on my temple lands. You could visit me there whenever you want.”
His heart twisted. A prolonged affair would only drag out his heartache. “You don’t understand. If I lay with you, I’m going to want to marry you, Em.”
“I know,” she said, her voice a study in agony. “And a Hand can’t marry an outlaw. I thought, or hoped, a Hand might be able to fornicate with one. Discreetly, of course.”
“What do you mean, an outlaw? Your sneak work is over.”
“It could come to light at any time. You can’t risk the scandal of associating with me—”
“I freed you from all that.” He slashed the air with his hand. “You were never caught and now you never will be. No accusation could stand against you as a Lady. You can go to the capitol and find a husband without worrying about your past coming back to haunt you.”
She shuddered. “It will always be a part of me, like a stain on my soul.”
“You’re not tainted! Your family put you in an impossible situation.” He squatted in front of her and peered at her face. “You were brave and clever and did an admirable job of tending to your temple in very trying circumstances. Never forget it.”
Her chin rested on her knees. “Wouldn’t marrying an outlaw, even a reformed one, be against the vows of a Hand?”
“While we do promise to uphold the laws of the land, we’re also supposed to practice mercy and forgo revenge.” Unable to look at her beloved face, he poked a stick into the dying fire, and pushed the necessary words past his closed throat. “If you find a Hand worthy of you on your trip to the capitol, don’t hesitate to marry him for the sake of his honor or yours.”
With a distressed sound, her face crumpled. She buried her head in her knees, while her shoulders shook with sobs.
He dropped the stick, stymied by misery and confusion.
Elkart paced back and forth, his tail lashing. You make Lady sad.
I didn’t mean to. Her cries tore at his heart. He had plenty of experience comforting women after men had done them wrong. He’d just never been the man in question. Tentatively he reached out to rub her back.
Without lifting her head, she leaned toward him like a plant
stretching for sunlight.
He took her in his arms, though he felt helpless before her tears. He pressed his lips against her hair. “I’m sorry.”
When she spoke, her voice was so low he had to strain to hear her. “I told myself you couldn’t stomach the idea of marrying an outlaw. That your vows as a Hand held you back. Instead it’s me who appalls you.”
“No, Em, no. I love you.” He squeezed her tight. “All I’ve ever wanted was to help you. When you opened your mind to me and shared your fear, your desperation . . . I wanted to save you. Finding out you were a Lady did complicate things, but I still wanted to set you free.”
“You wanted to marry me. I heard you, in my mind.” She turned her head, bringing them nose to nose. “When we were together.”
“Yes.” He breathed in her air. Swirls and eddies in her thoughts blew through his own barrier. While they were not bonded like waccats, their shared connection would only grow stronger with use.
When we made love, when I was inside you . . . He didn’t have the words to describe how it felt, even mind-to-mind. I didn’t want to let you go. Ever.
I would have said yes. Her breath hitched. If you had offered to marry me, I would have said yes.
I know. That’s why I didn’t ask.
“Wait.” She pulled her head back and sniffed. “You knew I would say yes, and so you kept silent?”
“I couldn’t trap you, Em. Not again.” His lungs emptied in a sigh, shame twisting through his gut. “After the stocks, you were nearly delirious with gratitude and relief. I took advantage more than I should have as it was.”
“You think that’s why I made love to you? Because I was grateful?”
“I hope you got a little comfort from it as well.”
She rubbed her hands over her face, wiping away her tears and breaking his embrace. “Why do you think I offered to make love to you right now?”
Taxing Courtship (The Hands of Destin Book 1) Page 32
