“So you wouldn’t escape, even if we found a way to warn your family? You wouldn’t use your magic even for something as simple as escape?”
She slowly shook her head. “I can’t let him kill the king. Or anyone else. I have to stop him myself.”
Jack stared at her for a long time. His thoughts warred within him. On one hand, it was impossible not to be impressed by her kindness and her bravery. He hadn’t been attended to with that kind of care since his father had died. On the other hand, however, he had his brothers to think about. And if Eva refused to be rescued, the fairy was sure to end their provision and protection.
“Well,” Jack rose unsteadily to his feet, “I’m sorry. I really did want to rescue you. But I can’t stay here and gamble with the lives of my family.”
“You’re leaving?” She stared up at him, her lips parting as she accused him with her eyes. “You’re just . . . quitting?”
Jack refused to meet her gaze as he turned and walked to the door. How his mother would crow with triumph if she could see him now.
Eva hurried after him, her skirts rustling as she threw herself between him and the door. “The duke never lets anyone outside at dusk or before dawn.”
“That’s well and good because I’m leaving now.”
“But he’ll see you! He knows all of his workers and has informants everywhere!”
“Fine. Then I’ll leave when it starts to get dark, before twilight.”
She shook her head. “If anyone catches you on his lands before dark and you’re not indoors, he’ll kill you! If you leave tonight, you’ll never make it off his lands in time.”
“Why not?”
“Because he doesn’t want anyone to see my magic. Everyone here knows the crops have something to do with me, but he’s keeping my real secret as quiet as possible, meaning he’ll kill if he has to, to maintain silence. I’ve seen him do it.” She looked him up and down briefly. “And you’re in no condition to make it off his lands by dusk.”
“I snuck around this morning without being detected, and I’ll do it again.” He reached around her for the door handle. But guilt made him meet her gaze for one long moment before he opened it. “I really am sorry,” he whispered. Then he slipped out and made his way down the hall.
7
Don’t Call Me That
Eva slumped in her seat during supper. What had begun as a bright and glorious day full of promise and hope had spiraled out of the sky and crashed to the ground, like the flying candle Martin had once tried to invent and released out of his second-story window. Just like her mother’s favorite plate Martin had used to build the contraption, Eva’s world was now in pieces, and she was even more discouraged than before.
“No,” the duke said as he walked in, surrounded by his usual entourage, “I want the paint in that room to be white with touches of green. It helps me think.”
“Very well,” Cumberfold said, tucking a ledger under his arm and pulling another out of his jacket. “What about the Golden Goose project?”
“We’ll discuss that later.” The duke had turned his sharp little eyes on Eva and grinned a little too widely. “Good evening, my harp. I hope you’re well. Did you enjoy your time in the green room?”
“As much as ever.” Eva focused intently on her plate. “And don’t call me that.” How she wished Rynn were with her. Rynn would have set the awful duke straight long ago. But Eva’s tongue wasn’t as sharp as her sister’s, nor would it do any good to go tearing up in front of the duke.
“I got a new bauble today!” His round face lit up as he pulled a little ball from his pocket. “Do you want to see?”
Eva eyed the ball suspiciously. “What does it do?”
“It’s the most wonderful thing! You throw it, and it temporarily paralyzes the first thing it hits.” He took aim at poor Cumberfold.
“No, thank you,” Eva said quickly, meeting eyes briefly with a seemingly relieved Cumberfold.
“Why not?”
Eva put her fork down and folded her hands, as though she were talking to a small child. “The last bauble you showed me was supposed to put out fires. It started one and nearly burned down the house. And the one before that hit Janis in the leg and put her out of work for a week while the physician attempted to remove the frogs that had become stuck to her legs. So no, for the sake of the staff, I am not interested in seeing any more of your baubles.”
The duke looked somewhat deflated before sitting and eyeing his food. “I see you took your new . . . what did you call him? Cupbearer with you?” His voice was pleasant, almost singsong in its cadence.
Drat. She’d hoped to keep Jack hidden in the green room to avoid suspicion. But as ever, the duke was one step ahead. “He fell ill soon after we arrived. I wanted him to rest.” That much was true, at least.
“You haven’t eaten anything,” the duke said, his mouth full of jellied meat. “Are you ill, too?”
How she wished she were. She gave him a sharp look instead. “Aside from being abducted and forced into marriage against my will?”
“You’re going to be queen. When that happens, you can move your family to the palace and give them whatever they want. I don’t see how that’s anything but beneficial to you all.”
“They’ve been down that road before,” she muttered.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing.”
“It’s rude to mumble, my harp. Very unqueenly.”
There were many things Eva would like to do and say that would be very unqueenly. Like mash the duke’s face in his jellied meat, for instance. Instead, however, she allowed silence to ensue, the only sounds the tapping of the servants’ feet as they walked to refill plates and cups. And Eva was fine with that. She had a raging headache. Unfortunately, the duke could not allow the beautiful silence to continue too long uninterrupted.
“Where is the boy now?” As if the duke were very much older and wiser than Jack. He couldn’t be older than twenty and seven or eight.
Eva kept her eyes on her food, aware of the way his sharp eyes were measuring her. “He traveled far to get here, and he’s obviously not had enough to eat. He needs to rest if he’s to accompany us on our walk tomorrow.”
“Do you know him from somewhere before?” The duke casually sipped his wine. Eva tried not to gag when he smacked his lips after every swallow. “You seemed to be rather familiar with him. Or at least, his intentions.”
“I only met him the same night you did.” She finally looked up, attempting to appear as detached as possible. “The night you kidnapped me.”
The duke watched her, unblinking, for a long moment. Then his eyes widened and he leaned back. “Ah, yes! The farm boy. I’d forgotten. I’m curious, though. Out of all the young men we have working my lands, why him? He’s not that attractive, if I may say so.”
Eva took a drink, swallowing the words about the duke’s attractiveness that she desperately wanted to spew, and shrugged. “He comes from the same town as my cousin. I thought he might have news as to their welfare.”
“That was thoughtful of you, of course, but I’ve told you that you shall know anything that might need knowing.”
“Forgive me if I find it difficult to take you at your word.” She stabbed a pile of spinach with her fork, not bothering to eat it with any of the sweet foods on the plate. It would taste bitter anyway, knowing that the rest of the kingdom was barely surviving on beans . . . and knowing that she was to blame. After a few attempts at chewing, however, she could hardly manage to swallow. She dropped her fork on the plate with a loud clank.
“What is all this for anyway?” She stared at him as hard as she could. It was easier to do when she pictured Sophie in his chair instead of the duke. “Why starve the kingdom in the first place?”
“I’m not starving them. They’re getting beans, which I am generously sending out to all corners of the map.”
“But why?” she asked in exasperation. “Why do you need me when you have a thousan
d magical baubles and trinkets just lying around?”
“All in good time, my dear.”
“Any why beans?”
“Because I like beans. I’m actually being rather generous, you know. Wait. Where are you going?”
“I’m not hungry.” Eva shoved her chair back in before a servant could do it for her.
“I look forward to our walk tomorrow!” the duke called after her as she hurried up the spiral staircase to her room. “Don’t forget to wear comfortable walking slippers.”
Eva didn’t acknowledge him. Instead, she lifted the front of her skirt and ran. And she didn’t stop until she’d thrown herself on her bed, where she lay weeping until her tears could come no more.
Eva’s mood was no better the next morning when she awakened. For as soon as her eyes opened, she was reminded of three awful truths.
She was responsible for killing the livelihoods of the kingdom that relied on farming for its main exports.
She was still expected to marry the duke.
Jack was gone.
She never awoke looking forward to the day. Not anymore. And a day full of the duke and his insufferable poetry just might push her past the point of sanity, particularly after the evening of tears that she’d attempted unsuccessfully to sleep off. But if she refused to walk with him, he’d show up wherever she was and read his poetry anyway. At least if they were outside in the shade of the apple trees, she could try to focus on the aspects of nature, and perhaps discover something new about his plans. For all the man’s oddities, he was an excellent schemer, but there had to be a way to unravel his mystery and stop him.
One couldn’t possibly be as clueless as the duke without some vulnerability.
Before she could dwell for too long on her dire situation, however, a little bell was rung outside her door.
“It’s time, my harp,” the duke called from the hall.
Eva sighed and rolled out of bed. She had long suspected that he was using her evening song for mischief, but until Jack had informed her, she hadn’t thought her song capable of killing the entire kingdom’s crops. But then how did the duke’s survive?
As she walked toward the eastern balcony, she wondered suddenly if the placement of her songs had something to do with their abilities. At first, she’d simply believed the two harps to exist simply because of his obsessive organization. After all, the man couldn’t stand for his food to touch on his plate, and he truly had ledgers of information on everything, including the servants’ dusting schedule for the basement. It would only make sense for him to want his songs to come from different instruments. Or different directions.
“The sun is almost risen,” he called again in that gratingly patient voice.
“I’m coming!” she snapped back as she seated herself at the instrument. And as her fingers began to pluck at the strings, she found herself wishing greatly to strangle him with the instrument pieces instead.
Though it was morning, and she couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful sunrise, she struggled. Playing the song was growing harder by the day. What had once been one of her favorite melodies, sweet and gentle like the dance of many sunbeams, was quickly becoming hollow and haunting. She could play the right notes, of course, but her heart wasn’t in it.
What would she do when all her joy was gone, and not even the duke’s crops would grow? What would he do? What would the people of Guthward do?
“Good morning, Miss Eva.”
Eva turned, her torturous song finally over, and gave the head housekeeper a tired smile. “Good morning, Mrs. McConnell.”
Mrs. McConnell hurried over to the wardrobe, her slight limp giving her shoes uneven taps across the floor. “Having a down morning are we?”
Eva froze. “How did you know?”
“That song wasn’t exactly cheery now.” The housekeeper pulled out two green dresses and stared at them before tossing them both to the side and attacking the wardrobe again. “His lordship won’t be pleased if his crops have another bad day.” Her tone wasn’t unkind or even cautionary. She was just stating the facts that Eva was painfully aware of.
“I’m doing my best.”
“I know you are. There, what about this one?” She pulled a gown out and held it up.
Eva made a face.
“What about that cupbearer fellow you hired yesterday?” The housekeeper chuckled. “I should think he would give you something to be happy about.” She laughed a little more loudly. “I might be older than the two of you, but that face. I can see why you would want him around all day.”
Eva felt herself color. Staring at Jack’s face all day hadn’t been exactly what she’d had in mind when she’d tried to give him employment. Rather, she’d felt better at the thought of having another man constantly present when she and the duke were out and about. Not that Jack would have been able to stop the duke from making any advances, particularly with the duke’s seemingly endless supply of little magic tricks he kept in his pockets. But still, having someone else who seemed at least halfway decent had been highly appealing at the time, as she’d tried desperately to come up with a way to keep him near.
Not that his face wasn’t handsome. His sharp jawline and high cheekbones had caught her attention that first night at the dance, and the intensity of his slate-gray eyes, like a thunder cloud over the mountain, had made her look twice. His thick blond hair had been messy, but not in an unattractive way. After last night, however, she wasn’t sure exactly how attractive she would ever find him again. Not after the way he’d simply . . . left.
Now, that’s not fair, a voice in her head that sounded much like Rynn’s chided. He has a family to look after. You would hesitate, too, if the twins were counting on you. Eva shook her head. She was still alone and the kingdom was still in danger, and she really had no desire to listen to reason this morning. Even if it did sound like Rynn.
Once she was dressed and ready, she shook her shoulders out and inhaled deeply before letting the air out slowly through her nose. Today wasn’t just another walk with the duke, she told herself. It was another opportunity to thwart him. Yes, that was it. Now if only she could keep that attitude when her greatest desire became to smack her host because his poetic allusions went too close to improper for her taste.
When she exited her chambers, however, she was shocked to find not only the duke’s round face, beaming at her, but another young man standing behind him. And in his hand was a tray full of drinks.
Jack had returned.
Eva tried not to let her relief show on her face as she forced herself to meet the duke’s eyes.
“Good morning, Eva.” He held his arm out. “Ready? I have something new today!”
“Another poem?”
“No, actually. I’ve begun to get the feeling that you don’t share my enthusiasm for poetry.”
“Whatever gave you that idea?”
“So I tried something else.”
Eva made a choking sound as she tried to swallow the hysterical laughter that threatened to bubble out. Jack quickly handed her a goblet, which she immediately downed and then regretted it. The mulled wine was always overspiced in the duke’s kitchen, and now she would be tasting it for hours. Oh well. Perhaps the wine would boost her confidence.
The duke continued to watch her face intently as they walked, showing no sign of fear or annoyance at her outburst. “I’ve written a story. It’s about our love and what it would be like if you were in a tower guarded by a dragon, and I were a grand knight who had come to rescue you.”
Eva knew she shouldn’t encourage him, but she couldn’t help it. “You would rescue me? Why would you do that?”
They came to a stop at a door that led out to the back pastures where the natural apple groves grew. “No woman ought to suffer the contemptible situation of being locked away against her will.” He looked at Jack. “Well?”
It took Jack a moment to understand what the duke expected, and Eva cringed as he tripped and nearly spilled the wine
in his attempt at opening the heavy door with his one free hand. The duke passed through first. As Eva walked through as well, however, Jack leaned in.
“He does know he’s the dragon, does he not?”
Eva shushed him but couldn’t keep a straight face as she rejoined the duke. No, from the confident beam that he still wore, she doubted it very much.
At first Eva thought she might at least be amused by the change in his wooing tactics. But she was wrong. The prose was even worse.
“ . . . as the sun beat down on the isolated gray tower, the fair maiden leaned out the window and sighed to herself as she imagined the knight taking her in his arms and kissing her with the passion of a million bees. His hairy, manly touch stung her skin, and his breath stank of onion, for that is what he’d had for dinner the night before, along with roast boar and a wineskin of ale he’d purchased in Dibonshire three weeks prior. It had been a lovely meal. But even the smell of his breath could not put her off, for she longed for his strong, royal hands to wrap themselves around her—”
“Ow!” Jack cried out.
The duke turned around and stared at him, pressing his lips tight in what Eva recognized as his look of disgust. “Do we need to send you to the physician?” His voice was thick with condescension.
“No.” Jack spoke through his teeth, his eyes slipping Eva an accusing glance before returning to the ground.
Eva hid her smile. Her little kick had been well aimed, and Jack’s shin would be bruised for a week. But that was nothing compared to what the duke would have done had he seen Jack’s shoulders shaking with his quiet snickers the way Eva had.
“Where was I? Oh, yes. Before Joseph—”
“Jack.”
“That’s what I said. Now . . . Um, wait. Excuse me for a moment.” He cleared his throat, but as he looked down at his paper, something caught his eyes. To Eva’s great joy, he quickly folded the paper and shoved it in his coat pocket. Then he pulled a thin black ledger from his jacket and whipped out a quill pen, wetting it on his tongue before getting it to work.
An Unnatural Beanstalk Page 8
