Broken Dove

by Kristen Ashley

  I also noticed, as I got to the back, it was about symmetry.

  The front had nothing leading up to it but a lane through a proud stand of pines that had clearly been planted in a way they looked like tall green soldiers at attention.

  The back had matching gazebos, one on each side. Beyond the gazebos, there were large matching greenhouses with peaked roofs and ironwork shooting into the sky. And there was a line of short evergreen shrubs trimmed in perfect cones between the gazebos and the greenhouses, the shrubs delineating what my guess was the backyard, which was family-related, from what was probably more servant-related, the greenhouses.

  And somehow, I had no idea how (they must have been dug by hand), two twin, rushing streams flowed in straight lines from the forest into a fountain that sat between the gazebos. Its waters brimmed forth from the tip of what looked like a carved marble saber. This water ran over frozen ice, the water and ice setting diamond twinkles into the sun. The streams also flooded out from the base of the fountain, going toward the house and disappearing under it.

  I took it all in and found it breathtaking in its frozen serene simplicity.

  But what stole my breath completely was seeing Christophe wearing a mini-me Apollo outfit including a long cape. He had a bow and arrow and was aiming at a target some distance away.

  Not too far from him, Élan was on her knees in the snow, not building a snowman but building what looked like a snow castle.

  I noticed two things immediately.

  One, they were even more beautiful out in the sun, doing things they enjoyed, not cowering in a bed, terrified out of their minds.

  The other was that they both needed to put on hats.

  “They should have hats,” I murmured, staring at them, my heart pounding, my eyes beginning to hurt from just looking at all the beauty that was them.

  “Try getting a hat on young master Christophe,” Loretta mumbled. “I’ve heard he’s stubborn, that one. His father doesn’t wear a hat, he won’t either.”

  At her words, I felt my lips curve even as my eyes kept burning.

  “They’re beautiful,” I whispered.

  “They are indeed, Maddie,” Meeta agreed from up close, her hand coming out to hold mine.

  Christophe let his arrow fly. It hit just outside the bulls-eye and I fought against cheering at the same time I fought against crying.

  “They need a mother,” Meeta went on and my heart squeezed just as her hand squeezed mine. “A mother would put hats on them.”

  She would. A mother would put hats on them. And tell them to eat their vegetables. And cheer when they made an almost bulls-eye. And help them make snow castles.

  My throat started burning at the same time my scalp prickled in a weird warning and it was the latter that caught my attention.

  I tore my eyes away from the children to do a scan of the area and I saw two men I’d never seen before in the forest by the furthest gazebo.

  And they, too, were skulking, their eyes, I was sure even though I was far away, aimed at the kids.

  Shit!

  Apollo’s men wouldn’t skulk. They would have no need to skulk. It surprised me to know it, but with the presence of two skulking men, men obviously who weren’t supposed to be there, it was apparent Apollo’s men were falling down on the job at keeping Ulfr land safe.

  But I couldn’t think of that.

  All I could think was that two rough-looking men were skulking towards the kids. And (except the way Loretta, Meeta and I were doing it), I knew skulking led to no good.

  Therefore, quickly, I let Meeta’s hand go and moved away from the tree I was hiding behind, looking this way and that, ordering in a quiet but urgent voice, “Go! Around the front. Head to the house. Find someone and tell them there’s a threat to the children in the back garden.”

  “Maddie—” Loretta started as I found what I was looking for, dashed forward and pulled a stout, fallen branch out of the snow.

  I whipped around to the girls. “Go!” I snapped, and didn’t wait to see if they did as I told them to do.

  I moved.

  Darting through the trees on the edge of the clearing, I kept my eyes to the men who were rounding the kids the other way. They weren’t rushing (one couldn’t rush while skulking) and I was, so I got close fast as they moved into the clearing, their eyes on the kids, their bodies bent low in a threatening way, their clothing warm but rough, heavy beards on their faces.

  I moved in from behind.

  The one coming up the rear heard my boots in the snow, turned and I saw his eyes widen in surprise because I was ready to strike. I had the branch back; I closed in on him quickly, and swung at him with everything I had.

  Unfortunately, he had time to lift up a forearm so he caught the force of my blow there when I was aiming at his head.

  Fortunately, I had another weapon at my disposal, my big mouth.

  “Kids! Run!” I shouted just as the big guy with his scruffy beard caught the branch and wrested it from my hands. “Run!” I shrieked, launching myself at him, uncertain what I intended to do, just that I intended to do something.

  I didn’t make it.

  Not because he fended me off.

  No, because an iron arm clamped around my waist from behind and I was hauled back into a strong body.

  I knew that body and that hold.

  “Maddie, what on earth are you doing?” Apollo said in my ear at the same time Élan screeched, “Uncle Quincy!” And after that I heard Christophe shout, “Uncle Balthazar!”

  Then I watched the kids run through the snow and throw themselves at the two rough men. The one I hit picked up Élan and gave her a cuddle. The one in front allowed Christophe to give him a brief hug around his middle before Christophe stepped back and the man put his big hand on Christophe’s shoulder to give it a squeeze while he grinned down at him.

  Oh shit.

  It seemed I’d overreacted again.

  I twisted my neck to look up at Apollo, saw his eyes on me and explained in a whisper, “They were skulking.”

  His brows shot up (both of them this time) as his eyes lit with humor and he replied, “Skulking? Well, thank the gods you put a stop to that.”

  Crap.

  I set my teeth to worrying my lip.

  Apollo’s arm gave me a fierce squeeze when he burst out laughing.

  Crap!

  Avoiding the children’s eyes, I looked back to the man I hit, and when Apollo’s laughter waned, I muttered, “Sorry I hit you with a branch. I thought you were a threat.”

  “I gathered that,” he replied, his teeth very white against his russet beard and I saw this because he was smiling huge. “Or, at least, I hoped that wasn’t your form of welcome because I can’t say much for it.”

  I heard Apollo’s continued soft laughter (though I didn’t laugh, even if the guy was being funny, not to mention nice about me hitting him with a branch) as he let me go but took my hand.

  Placing it in the curve of his arm, he tucked it close to his side, bringing me with it, and moved us forward. “Quincy, Balthazar, meet Lady Madeleine.”

  I got two chin lifts and two big smiles from the men.

  “Maddie,” Apollo’s voice was lower when he went on, “meet my children, Christophe and Élan.”

  “Hullo!” Élan chirped on an adorable, wide wave and my heart skipped a beat.

  “Lady Madeleine,” Christophe said.

  I looked to him to see he was very like his father and at that moment that included his green eyes dancing with amusement and he was fighting back a smile.

  I’d totally made a fool of myself. Captain Kirk never made a fool of himself.

  I swallowed nervously.

  Apollo spoke and I looked up at him.

  “Now that you’ve explained your brave but erroneous attack on one of Frey’s men…” Great. They were Frey’s men. “Maybe you can explain why you’re here. Dinner isn’t until later.”

  “Loretta, Meeta and I were having a wan
der,” I shared slightly dishonestly (okay, mostly dishonestly).

  “Indeed,” Apollo replied, his voice rumbling with humor, “I saw you three in the forest.” He leaned into me and finished on a whisper that hopefully only I could hear, “Skulking.”

  God!

  Someone kill me.

  His beautiful full lips spread in a smile.

  I decided to be pissed off as that was better than mortified so I narrowed my eyes at him.

  He chuckled, pulled me closer and aimed his eyes at our onlookers.

  “Christophe, Élan, it’s time to get back to your studies. You’ll be able to visit with Madeleine at dinner.”

  That got a nod from Christophe but Élan opened her mouth to speak.

  Apollo cut her off.

  “Studies, precious girl,” he said firmly but gently.

  He called her “precious girl.”

  That was so freaking sweet it made my jaw hurt.

  I closed my eyes.

  “See you at dinner, Lady Madeleine,” Christophe said and I opened my eyes.

  I nodded and forced out, “Looking forward to it, honey.”

  He grinned at his dad, went to his sister and grabbed her hand, pulling her as he moved to the house.

  “I liked your cookies!” she told me excitedly as she was dragged behind her brother.

  “I’m glad, sweetheart,” I replied.

  “You need to make more,” she shared.

  “Élan,” Apollo said in a warning father’s voice.

  “I will,” I told her quickly. “Sugar cookies next time.”

  “Hurrah!” she cried even though I knew she had no clue what sugar cookies were just as her brother tugged her nearer the house, murmuring, “Come on, Élan.”

  She waved at me.

  I waved back.

  They disappeared into the house.

  Okay, well, one could say Captain Kirk was a whole lot better getting the crew of the Enterprise in and out of trouble than I was.

  But I had the in part down.

  “Quincy, Zar, we’re to meet,” Apollo stated.

  I stopped kicking myself and looked to him then to the men.

  “This may be delayed as I’ll need a medic to look at my arm. I think it’s fractured,” Quincy, the tall, strapping, fair-haired, russet-bearded one declared.

  Oh shit.

  “If it is, I’m sending a bird straight to Kell so he can share with the boys that you got your arm broken by a woman,” Balthazar, the tall, strapping, dark-haired, dark-bearded one said as he walked to Quincy and stopped.

  A bird?

  Before I could ask about the bird, Quincy told Balthazar, “She got the drop on me and clobbered me with a branch, Zar.”

  “She got the drop on you and clobbered you with a branch, Quince, and the operative word in that is she,” Balthazar returned, grinning big.

  “She is also handy with a blade,” Apollo put in. “And swords. As well as lamps.”

  “Sounds like there’s a story there,” Quincy noted.

  “Two,” Apollo agreed and then he must have communicated something in man-waves because all three of them exploded in laughter.

  Well!

  “If you’re done making fun of me,” I cut into their amusement. “I’ll skulk back to my house and return later for dinner.”

  Apollo turned smiling eyes to me and assured quietly, “We’re not making fun of you, poppy.”

  “Really? I’m just a woman but I can speak Eng…I mean, the language of the Vale so I’m pretty certain I’m not mistaken that you are.”

  He looked to the men and explained, “She’s very spirited as well.”

  “She’s standing right here,” I snapped.

  He looked back to me and that tender look seeped into his eyes.

  “Calm, dove,” he said softly. “Do you think I or these men who are friends to my family think anything is unseemly about you being spirited or moving…again…to protect my children?”

  Hmm.

  Probably not.

  I decided not to respond.

  Apollo knew what my non-response meant and turned into me so we were standing front to front.

  “Now, you’re here and there’s no reason for you to go back. Take your time, tour my home. The children are at their studies so you won’t see them. I’ll meet you before and take you to them. We’ll sit and talk in order that you can get to know them a little better before we dine.”

  I was seeing the error of my ways (or errors, plural) in engaging on my skulking mission with Loretta and Meeta, but it was too late. We had an audience, an audience that was watching and not moving, and I couldn’t have the conversation I needed to have with Apollo right then. And I could tell by the look in his eyes that Apollo very much wanted me to stay, tour his home and meet him before he took me to dine with his kids.

  And I very much wanted Apollo to have whatever he wanted.

  Shit.

  “Okay,” I told him. “I’ll tour your house. From the size of it, that should take me about seven hours, though. So if I get lost, send a search party.”

  His lips twitched before he leaned into me and used them to kiss my nose.

  He moved back, caught my eyes and murmured, “Thank you, poppy.”

  I nodded, pulled in a deep breath and turned to the men. “It was lovely meeting you, after, of course,”—I looked to Quincy—“I attacked you.”

  “And you,” Quincy replied, “after, of course, you attacked me.”

  He really was funny and under all that rough, kind of cute.

  Unfortunately I wasn’t in the mood to laugh or appreciate his cuteness.

  But I did give him a smile.

  Apollo let me go but put a hand to the small of my back and gave me a gentle shove toward the house, murmuring, “Go, Maddie.”

  I went, trying to be game and turning as I did to give them a small wave.

  I got no waves back. Instead I got a chin lift from Balthazar (who was also cute under all that rough), a grin from Quincy and a wink from Apollo who added a grin.

  The wink was sweet.

  And hot.

  On that thought, I moved quickly to the house and disappeared inside feeling like a dork but thinking something good had come of that fiasco.

  I had met the kids. I’d even spoken to them. Okay, so I’d also acted like an idiot around them.

  But the hard part was done.

  And now I could move on.

  So maybe I wasn’t so bad at this Captain Kirk stuff.

  Though, I figured that still remained to be seen.

  * * * * *

  I stood at the massive picture window that rose two stories. A window that was one of twin windows on either side of a tall grand fireplace, its mantel of chocolate marble veined in cream, silver, gold and jade sweeping into the high ceiling.

  I was looking out into the back garden, thinking.

  Not surprisingly, Apollo’s home was amazing. Far grander but no less warm and welcoming than the dower house, though also far more masculine.

  It took ages for me to tour it, what with it having a formal sitting room, a formal drawing room, a massive library, a formal dining room (with a long table that seated twenty-six, yes, twenty-six), a morning room, an informal sitting room and dining room, as well as an octagon shaped conservatory off the informal sitting room.

  There were kitchens, too, but I didn’t go there because I was avoiding people (for obvious reasons).

  Further, there was a room that looked kind of like it was a billiards room but the table was much bigger and some of the holes led to shoots that expelled the ball back onto the table.

  There was also a closed door which I took to be Apollo’s study.

  And last, there was the sunken great room that was the showstopper of the house. It was huge, its beamed ceilings vaulted, you walked in the front door over polished dark wood floors with fabulous rugs and that was what you saw before you. That fireplace. Those tall arched windows. That ceiling. And tha
t room sunken into the floor, holding a vast array of comfy, deep-seated, supple leather couches arranged in a way that invited sinking into them with good company and a bottle of wine and wiling away hours.

  The great room was the bomb. I’d never seen its like and probably never would again. Not even in this fantastical world. That was just how awesome it was.

  During my tour, I also discovered the second floor (which had a cut out in the middle to afford the great room it’s tall ceilings) was bedrooms, the third floor a ballroom (a ballroom that ran the length of the massive house!) but the floor above I didn’t spend much time in because it looked like storage and servants’ quarters. Not to mention, I could hear the kids down the hall, likely conversing with their tutor.

  It took me two hours to explore it all and not just because there was a lot of it but there was a lot to it. Portraits, objects d’art, rugs, tapestries, even the way the furniture was made and upholstered took my attention.

  It was not a surprise with all his money that Apollo had a beautiful home. It also wasn’t a surprise that it was comfortable and inviting.

  What was a surprise was that it was so much of the latter. He was the only member of aristocracy I knew in that world (or my own). But even as huge as his house was, it was not imposing.

  It was a home.

  And I loved that.

  This was what I was thinking when I heard boots on floor.

  I turned from the window to see Apollo moving my way.

  Burgundy turtleneck, brown breeches, his shined yet scuffed boots, and hair that was unusually swept neatly back from his face making me wonder if I liked it disheveled more than I liked it groomed.

  “Hey,” I called to get my mind off his fantastic hair (and, to be honest, his breeches).

  He smiled but didn’t speak until he made it to me, curled his arms loosely around me and I’d put my hands to his chest.

  Then his deep voice rumbled, “Hey.”

  That wasn’t a word he’d ever used. It was a my world word. And something about him using it made my heart sigh.

  To get my mind off that, I shared, “I like your house.”

  His warm eyes got warmer and he gathered me closer but he kind of freaked me out when he did this at the same time he asked, “I would assume with the other me’s nefarious dealings, he could provide you with a grand home.”