Audette of Brookraven (The Eldentimber Series Book 4)

by Shari L. Tapscott

  “I promise—you won’t.” Irving looks hurt, but his expression is thoughtful. “In my exuberance over this ‘eureka’ moment I’ve had, this conversation was perhaps premature.” His thumb works at my waist. “Am I right in understanding you don’t quite trust me enough yet?”

  “I want to.”

  He nods and smiles at me so suddenly, the brilliance of it takes me off guard. “Then look at the progress I’ve made. A month ago, you hated me.”

  I laugh. “You’re not upset?”

  His smile turning slightly ornery, he brushes his jaw near mine. “Upset that you like me enough to let me whisk you away to this ridiculously romantic hideaway, just the two of us?”

  My mouth goes dry as his lips brush near my hairline.

  “Upset we’re all alone, with only the stars for company?” he whispers.

  His words tickle my ear, and I shiver. Gently, he unties the ribbon securing my mask. He pulls it from my face and lays it over the balcony’s edge.

  “I’m not upset about any of those things,” he continues, his voice low and promising. “But do you know what I am upset about?”

  “What?” I breathe.

  He brushes my hair behind my ear and leans even closer. “I can’t kiss you, because if I do, you’ll continue to think I’m some roguish scoundrel.”

  Quieter than a whisper, I ask, “And if I were to kiss you?”

  Irving angles his head so our eyes meet, and he very subtly shakes his head as he hides a smile. “Then I’m afraid I’d be forced to believe that you, darling princess, are a roguish scoundrel.”

  “You know,” I say. “You really are a bit of an idiot.”

  Without giving him any warning, I stand on my toes and press my lips to his. He obviously expected more banter. For one heartbeat, I’ve startled him so thoroughly, he freezes. Then he comes to his senses—and rather spectacularly so. He steps into me, pushing me closer to the balcony’s edge. The railing bites into the ties at my waist, but I couldn’t care less.

  There’s only Irving and the need to get as close to him as possible. He deepens the kiss, and I let out a breathy gasp, which he answers with a groan.

  His hands are in my hair, at my back, and mine trail over his chest. I should pull away, pretend that spark he spoke of didn’t just roar into a fire.

  But I don’t want to.

  “Please tell me why we’ve been fighting this?” Irving growls, barely breaking the kiss. “Are you sure we can’t move things along a bit?”

  Startled, I pull back and gasp for breath. “What do you mean?”

  His eyes, which are dark with desire, brighten. He grins, obviously liking whatever it is that he’s thinking. “Marry me tonight.”

  I blink at him. “What?”

  He clasps my arms. “We’ll ride to Vallen Harbor—just us.”

  “It’s the most ridiculous idea I’ve heard.” I shake my head, trying to clear it. “We just decided that I don’t even trust you yet. Don’t you remember?”

  “But you do.” He nods, believing it. “You’re just scared to admit it to yourself.”

  When I start to protest, he kisses me again, and all wisdom flees. Just when my mind is pleasantly fuzzy and warm and incapable of making a rational decision, Irving sinks to his knee in front of me.

  “I pledge my love and my sword to you, Audette—my future queen,” he declares, dramatic. “Marry me.”

  I glance toward the party, where Barowalt and my knights dance, unaware of what absurd decision I’m about to make. I can’t tell them. They’ll talk me out of it.

  Milly, though—she’ll toss the rice.

  Finally, I look back at Irving. He wears a hopeful expression, one that’s slightly mischievous and fully charming. Against every ounce of my better judgment, I let a foolish smile spread over my face. “All right.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  I wait until Milly and Barowalt finish their dance, and then I tug her away.

  “What is it?” she asks, her eyes bright like she already knows there’s intrigue afoot.

  Glancing around the hall, nervous someone will overhear, I whisper, “Irving and I are going to be married tonight. Will you cover for me when I disappear? I don’t want Barowalt to find out until after it’s done.”

  She gapes at me. “You’re…what now?”

  I roll my eyes and shift my weight to my other leg, eager to be away. “I’m marrying Irving.”

  “Didn’t we decide we hated Irving when we found Giselle in his arms?” She sets her hands on her hips, grinning. “Weren’t you dancing with Keven? When did this happen?” She raises an eyebrow and her lips turn in a smug look. “And I thought you weren’t going to fall in love.”

  Crossing my arms, refusing to answer, I stare at her until she finally laughs.

  “Fine,” Milly says. “You can give me all the details later.” She glances at Barowalt. “I think I can keep him distracted long enough for you to slip out.”

  I clasp her arms before she saunters away. “Thank you.”

  “You better hurry.” She nods toward the entrance, where Irving said he’d wait for me. “He’s been spotted by a harpy.”

  Sure enough, Giselle is flirting at him again. His arms are crossed and his expression is closed, but that doesn’t keep her from running her hand down his arm. Relief flashes over his face when he sees me making my way toward them.

  “I’m sorry, Giselle. I promised this next dance to Audette.” He immediately draws me into his arms and sweeps me into the dance.

  “I thought we were leaving,” I say as we spin.

  “We will,” he promises, “the moment Giselle looks away.”

  That moment takes a while. From the side of the room, her eyes are locked on Irving, and she doesn’t seem pleased. Finally, a woman comes to speak with her, congratulating her on the night most likely, and she turns away, smiling radiantly.

  “Now’s our chance,” Irving whispers in my ear.

  A thrill runs through me, and I nod.

  “Barowalt’s not watching,” he continues. “Milly’s flirting with your knights, and he’s too busy scowling at them to notice you leaving.”

  I take a deep breath. “All right.”

  Trying to look nonchalant, I slip through the doors when the guards open them for me. I wait in the gardens, pretending I just needed some air in case someone should notice me. Several long moments later, Irving jogs down the stone entry.

  When he reaches me, he catches me in his arms, pulls me into the shadows of a low-growing tree, and kisses me like he hasn’t seen me in a fortnight.

  “Are we really doing this?” he asks, his eyes bright.

  Breathless, I nod.

  “You know this is the second time we’ve slipped from the castle together.” He raises his eyebrows. “You’re a bad influence on me.”

  I only laugh and push away from him so I can catch my breath. If we’re not careful, we’ll waste the entire night here.

  ***

  I rush into the villa. The guards posted don’t question my presence, and Irving waits in the entryway. Letta, after seeing us arrive on horseback, runs down the stairs. Dressed for bed, she follows me to my chambers.

  “What are you doing home early?” she asks.

  I glance at her. By the time Barowalt returns, he’ll already know I left with Irving. I could tell her.

  But she might giggle it to the maids…who might mention it to a guard…who in return may go to Barowalt and rat me out.

  “Shouldn’t you be in bed?” I say instead of answering.

  Letta frowns. “I couldn’t sleep.”

  “Go down to the kitchens and tell the cook you’d like a warm milk. She should still be up.” I shuffle through my wardrobe, looking for a gown appropriate for my wedding day. Since we didn’t have time to change when we left Primewood, I still have the light green gown I wore on the day I jilted Irving. I look over my shoulder at the girl. “That’s what I do when I can’t sleep.”

  Th
e girl narrows her eyes. “You’re not running away, are you?”

  A nervous laugh bubbles out of my throat before I can stop it. “What would make you say that?”

  “You’re packing.”

  I shove the gown back in the wardrobe. “I’m not. I’m changing.”

  “Are you going to go back to the party?”

  Her expression has turned quite serious, and I sigh and kneel in front of her. “Go to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow—I promise.”

  She nods, not convinced. Looking lost and lonely, she stares at me.

  And for one short moment, my heart winces. It’s not a pleasant sensation at all, especially after trying so hard not to become attached to the tiny urchin.

  Rolling my eyes, I pull her close. After several moments, I nudge her back to arm’s length. “Now go downstairs, get some milk, and go to bed.”

  A small smile twitches at her lips, and she finally nods.

  The moment she’s out of the room, I dart back to my wardrobe. I can’t wear the gown I deserted Irving in. It carries too many bad memories.

  Instead, I take off the elaborate gold cape I wore for the masquerade and look at myself in the mirror’s reflection. Without the mask and the cape, the magenta gown I’m wearing is quite lovely, even if it’s far too dark to be traditional.

  But what about our wedding is traditional?

  I glance at my mother’s now-black ring. I play with it, rolling it around my finger. It seems wrong to wear it now that it’s been tarnished. I begin to slide it off, but just before it leaves my finger, I push it back. I’ll exchange it as soon as Irving gives me a ring, but for now, it feels better having it there, even if it’s no longer aquamarine.

  After choosing a cape, I quickly make my way down to the foyer, where Irving waits. He has Letta in his arms, and when I come down the steps, she turns to scowl at me.

  “You’re getting married in Vallen Harbor,” she accuses. “And you didn’t tell me.”

  I give Irving a stern look, but he only shrugs. “I didn’t see any harm in telling her.”

  My stomach squirms, but he’s likely right. She’s not going to tell anyone, and even if she does, the maids aren’t likely to believe her.

  Irving gives the girl a tight hug, and she laughs and squeals. Then he narrows his eyes, faking a stern look. “What are you doing up? It’s late. You should be in bed.”

  She gives him an innocent look. “It is?”

  I cross my arms, trying not to smile. She gives Irving one last hug, glances at me like she’s still angry I didn’t tell her, and disappears up the stairs.

  Thirty minutes later, Irving and I ride through the darkened streets of the harbor village. Despite it being the nicest night since the rains started, there is no one about. Even the tavern is closed.

  “Well, this is odd,” Irving says when we come to the locked chapel.

  On the Elden mainland, chapels are usually left open at all hours, and it’s never difficult to call on a bishop. Perhaps it’s different here.

  A little spooked, I glance over my shoulder, feeling as if something is watching. “Do you think it’s because of the attacks?”

  “Probably.” Irving nods and turns his horse around. “Let’s try Kallert. It’s larger. Surely we’re bound to find someone there.”

  It takes us another hour to ride to Kallert, and I’m yawning by the time we reach it.

  Though the streets are far quieter than they were the first night I visited with Milly and Keven, a great many shutters are open to the night, and music and laughter can be heard from inside many of the establishments and cottages.

  “The people must be taking precautions,” Irving says as we dismount near a stable.

  After searching out and paying a stable hand, we venture down the streets, looking for the nearest chapel.

  Like many of the other buildings, lights flicker in the open windows. When Irving tries the door, I’m relieved to find it unlocked. We walk through the building but find no one. Finally, we locate the bishop and his family sharing a late dinner in the little cottage just off the back of the chapel.

  After Irving knocks, a woman with bright eyes opens the door and waves us inside.

  “Are you hungry?” she asks after we introduce ourselves—omitting our titles, of course. “We have plenty to share.”

  Despite our protests, the family ushers us to their table. Their two boys scoot down the bench, making room for us.

  “What brings you here tonight?” The bishop asks, his eyes friendly.

  Irving smiles, charming them just as he does everyone he meets. “We wish to be married.”

  The bishop and his wife exchange a warm look, and the man pushes his empty plate back, ready to talk. “That’s wonderful. And when were you thinking?”

  “Tonight.” Irving says it like it’s nothing. Like people show up at the man’s house every day requesting to be immediately wed.

  The man’s smile flickers, and he scratches his neck. “That’s a little hasty, don’t you think?”

  The boys, who are too old to be children and too young to be men, look like they want to laugh, but their mother shoots them a look. They return to their plates, still smiling but silent.

  Feeling the need to explain, I say, hesitant, “Our parents entered a betrothal agreement between the two of us when we were young.” I pause, feeling awkward. “When our wedding was to take place, I…I mean there was…”

  Irving wraps his arm around my shoulder, grinning. “She left me at the altar.”

  The family gapes at us, and my cheeks grow red.

  “But we’ve worked out our differences, and here we are,” he adds.

  I try to smile, even though a tiny part of me wants to jab Irving in the side.

  “So you’ve already gone through a promising ceremony?” The bishop asks.

  Irving and I exchange a glance, and he says, “Not technically.”

  “We’re from the mainland,” I say, as if that will explain it.

  “Ah.” The bishop nods, slightly confused. “Well, I suppose if you’re sure…”

  A tiny seed of doubt works its way into my heart. My stomach tightens, and then I grow cold. What am I doing? Is this what my mother would have wanted? Would my father have approved?

  I smile, trying to look serene.

  Suddenly, and much too quickly, we’re ushered into the small chapel.

  Nearly frozen in place, I stand while the bishop begins the ceremony with only his family looking on. His words become muffled, and I try to focus on Irving.

  He’s so handsome and carefree and kind. And, despite how I told myself I could control who I care about, I can’t. Somehow, in this short time, I’ve come to love him.

  But do I want to be married in a tiny chapel in Ptarma? And Barowalt—how hurt he will be. Mother and Father wouldn’t have wanted that.

  Irving meets my eyes, a smile on his lips, and takes my hand. I try to smile, but his eyes flicker.

  “Stop,” he says, quite suddenly.

  The bishop pauses, surprised.

  “I’m going to take a moment with Audette,” Irving says, his voice quiet.

  Suddenly, my heart leaps to my throat. He’s changed his mind. Despite all he’s said, he doesn’t want me. This was a game to him, an amusement. I left him, and now he’s leaving me.

  It’s fair, really.

  He ushers me into the hall, and I wait for him to speak first.

  “I can’t go through with this.” His voice is soft, but his eyes are guarded.

  I can’t look at him, so I only nod.

  “I thought it was what I wanted, but my motivations are wrong,” he continues. “You are exquisite and tempting, but I will show restraint. In fact, I need to prove it to you that I can. Perhaps I need to prove it to myself.”

  Finally, I turn to him, confused. “What are you talking about?”

  And now he looks confused that I’m confused. “I think we should wait, be married at home. Not here, not like thi
s.”

  “You still want to marry me?” I blurt out, not caring how pathetic the words make me sound.

  His eyes widen, and then a smile builds on his face. “What did you think?”

  Now embarrassed, I only shrug. I won’t put my thoughts into words.

  “Yes, I still want to marry you.” He steps close, smelling of night and horse, and lowers his voice. “I meant what I said—you’re the only person I want beside me. I know that. I have no doubts. But, I want to do it right, and that means waiting until we’re home.” He runs his hand down my bare shoulder, and I shiver. “I don’t want to rush it.”

  “Then what was all this?” I ask, trying to sound exasperated when, truly, I’m so relieved that his reservations match my own.

  He steps nearer and leans close to my ear. “At the time, all I was thinking is that we needed to be married before I sneaked you to my chambers.” He catches me around the waist, grinning, and presses a quick kiss to my lips. “But you’ll just have to be patient, darling. I can’t have you corrupting me further.”

  My eyes widen, I laugh, surprised. I smack his shoulder with the back of my hand, but I don’t put much effort into it.

  Hand in hand, we go back in the room.

  The bishop and his family look up.

  “We think, perhaps, we’ve been a little too hasty,” Irving says, and he grins when the bishop gives us a look that says he agrees. “But perhaps you could still do us a favor?”

  The bishop smiles, trying not to laugh. “And what would that be?”

  I have no idea what Irving is going to say, but he looks down at me and smiles. “Can you do a traditional promising ceremony instead?”

  “Of course,” the man says, looking as if he approves.

  Several moments later, I place my palm over Irving’s hand. My blood thrums through my veins, and I feel tingly, but this time it’s in the best way. This, more than anything I’ve done in the last season, feels right.

  The bishop ties a simple white ribbon around our wrists. “The promise is binding.”

  At his words, the family politely claps, congratulating us on our engagement.

  Irving grins at me, his mouth tilted in a mischievous look. He raises our hands, which are still linked by the ribbon. “It’s too bad I can’t keep this on you until the wedding—then I’d know you couldn’t run away.”