by Emma Lea
My plate was cleared and I reached for my wine, desperately trying to think of something to say to add to the conversation. I had nothing in common with these people. I turned my head to look at Lady Margaret. She looked as much of a fish out of water as I felt. I had done nothing to ease her discomfort and had probably only contributed to it. I cleared my throat.
“So you work with Lady Savannah,” I said.
Her eyes jumped to mine and she nodded, her cheeks flushing red.
“What did you do before coming to the palace?” I asked, lamely.
“I was in school,” she replied softly.
I quirked an eyebrow in surprise. “What were you studying?”
“Political science,” she replied and then blushed, turning her face away from me and down to her plate.
I studied her with renewed interest. She seemed to be the forgotten lady in waiting. Like she was an assistant to them or one of the maids. There was a lot more to Lady Margaret than I first thought.
“Your accent is English,” I said. “Where were you studying?”
“Cambridge,” she replied, blushing again.
I didn’t think my eyebrows could go any higher. “Cambridge?”
She nodded.
“Why did you come here? Why not finish your degree?”
“Oh, I finished,” she said, looking at me briefly before turning away. “This was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up,” she finished softly.
It sounded like she was parroting words that had been told to her over and over again. There was a story there but not one I was willing to get into. I already had enough trouble in my life with one of the ladies in waiting who had summarily invaded my thoughts, I didn’t need to be distracted by another one. I felt eyes on me and looked up to see Lady Margaret’s friend staring at me, her eyes hard. Hadley didn’t turn away when we made eye contact and I got the distinct impression that she was warning me to be careful with her friend. I respected her for it.
I turned to speak to Lady Margaret again but was interrupted when the queen rose.
“Shall we retire to the drawing room?” she said with a mischievous grin.
I liked the queen. She had a way of holding on to the important parts of tradition and still making her monarchy feel modern and relevant.
I stood with the other gentleman and held the chair for Lady Margaret. I offered her my arm but before she could take it, Savannah grabbed my elbow and hissed in my ear.
“We need to talk.”
Savannah
I tried to apologise to Margaret with my eyes as I tugged on Jed’s elbow. Margaret looked surprised and then Martin stepped up and offered her his arm.
“I’m really sorry,” I said to both Margaret and Martin, “but I need to borrow Jed for just a minute.”
“Of course,” Martin said, ever the gentleman. “Allow me to escort you into the drawing room,” Martin said to Margaret with a gentle smile.
“Thank you,” she stammered, shooting me a panicked look, but I was already pulling Jed towards the balcony doors.
I opened the doors and we stepped out into the cold night. I didn’t stop on the balcony, urging Jed to follow me as I strode down the stairs and onto the gravel path that wound through the rose garden. The roses were barren and pruned back to not much more than sticks in the ground and there was no sweet scent filling the air. The fairy lights that usually adorned the garden in the summer were gone, but the path was dimly lit by small solar lanterns that lined the garden beds. The sky was overcast, hiding the stars but fitting my mood. I was angry but I didn’t know why. I was scared too. Scared that Jed would somehow reveal the secret I had managed to keep for two years.
I shivered. The cold was seeping into my bones, but I didn’t care. I needed to speak with Jed where I knew we wouldn’t be overheard. I pulled him into one of the alcoves dotted around the garden and turned to face him. Before I could speak, he did.
“You’re cold,” he said, and then proceeded to remove his suit coat and drape it around my shoulders before I could protest.
His coat was warm from his body heat and I could smell his aftershave and something else, something familiar. Him. I could smell his scent, the same one that had wrapped around me when he sat behind me on the horse and brought me back to the palace. It sent my thoughts scattering and I tried desperately to hold on to my mad. I needed it as protection against him and the things he made me feel.
“Don’t,” I said, not exactly sure what I was telling him not to do. He stood in front of me in his waist coat and short sleeves looking far too delicious. He wore jeans well but he wore a tuxedo even better.
I took a breath. A mistake because now my nose was filled with his scent and it clouded my brain. I bit down on my lip, hoping to find some sanity.
“We should go inside,” he said, his voice low and rough. “Or at least somewhere that’s not below freezing.”
“Why are you here?” I blurted out. “You shouldn’t be here.”
His eyes narrowed and there was a tick in his jaw as he ground his teeth together. “The queen invited me,” he said, his voice a low growl.
It was a warning that I didn’t heed.
“Then you should have refused.”
“I did but she wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
“Then you should have pretended to be sick or that there was some sort of emergency,” I said, refusing to acknowledge the hard look in his eye. “You can’t be here.”
“Why? Because I’m the stable boy?”
That wasn’t why, but I couldn’t tell him the truth. I couldn’t tell him that his being here messed with my head. I couldn’t tell him that him being here made me think of things I had no business thinking, like how well he fit into this world and how good he looked and how much I hated that Margaret got to be his date.
“Yes,” I lied. “That’s why. How did you even get an invitation anyway?”
“The queen and I ride together,” he said, his voice dangerous.
“You what?” Oh God! I forgot that. I forgot that Alyssa spent time with Jed. What if he told her about Archer? What if he spilled the whole sordid thing? I closed my eyes against the nightmare that was playing out in my brain. Not that it helped. It only made the images clearer.
“You can’t be here,” I said again. “The queen can’t know about us. She can’t know about Archer and my father. Do you have any idea what would happen to me if she found—”
Warm lips covered mine effectively shutting me up. I froze and my eyes popped open. Jed looked at me lifting his head, breaking contact. My hands went to his chest. I was going to push him away. Really, I was. But instead my fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, holding him close, preventing him from moving away. He searched my eyes before lowering his head again and brushing his lips across mine. My eyes fluttered shut and I pressed closer to him. His arms went around me, enveloping me in his warmth. I heard a whimper. It was me. He deepened the kiss and my busy brain just stopped. There was nothing but him and the feel of him as he held me close. My hands uncurled and slid up over his shoulders and around his neck, burrowing into his hair. The kiss went on forever and yet it was not long enough, would never be long enough.
“Savannah,” he breathed against my lips as one of his hands cupped the back of my head.
I couldn’t speak. I could barely remember my own name or where I was. All I knew was I was in his arms and it felt…like home.
The thought shocked me enough to bring me back to myself and I pushed away from him. He let me go and I was disappointed when his arms dropped to his sides and the cold air seeped between us. I shivered.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I said, my voice shaky and I turned to leave.
“Savannah wait,” he said, his voice soft and rough. Goosebumps erupted over my skin that had nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with him.
I stopped but didn’t turn to look at him.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, and my he
art sank. “I apologise and I promise that your secret is safe with me—”
I turned to face him, searching his eyes.
“As long as you keep your side of the bargain and find somewhere else for them to live.”
I nodded sharply. I didn’t know how that was even going to be possible, but I had to try. It was only a matter of time before someone discovered them anyway. I turned to go but Jed stopped me again.
“My coat,” he said.
I slid it from my shoulders and handed it to him, our fingers brushing and sending a full body shiver through me. That was from the cold. Definitely the cold and not a reaction to the feel of his skin brushing against mine.
I forced myself to turn away and hustle back to the palace. I couldn’t spend another minute with him in the secluded alcove. I wouldn’t be responsible for my actions if I did.
Chapter 6
Jed
I heard a crash and turned around. Mistborn stood innocently looking out over the fields, the bucket of grooming brushes and combs lay at his feet. The damned horse had knocked it off the railing. It wasn’t the first time this morning that he’d pushed my buttons and it didn’t help that I was in a foul mood. More to the point, it was probably because I was in a bad mood that Mistborn was being particularly ornery.
“Would you just stop?” I growled at the horse.
He stared back at me like I was beneath him, his nose in the air. He swished his tail and turned, presenting his back end to me. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. I was grumpy and tired and not in the mood to put up with his shenanigans today. And it was all Savannah’s fault.
I barely slept. I left the dinner party after our unfortunate tête-à-tête in the gardens and then tossed and turned in my bed as I relived The Kiss. I shouldn’t have done it but I didn’t regret it. It messed my head up and derailed my sleep, but how could I regret something that felt so…right?
But I still shouldn’t have gone there and I wouldn’t have, except Savannah had been ranting and raving at me and refused to stop for even a second so I could explain and I figured kissing her would shut her up. I never expected it to feel like touching a live wire. I never expected it to push me off my axis and leave me floundering for air.
Afterwards there was no way I could have gone back to the party and pretended nothing had happened. I knew it was rude to skip out on my date without even saying goodbye or stopping to thank the queen for my invitation, but I couldn’t go back in there. I had to get away, fast.
As I slipped my coat on, I could smell the lingering scent of Savannah on it and it haunted me all night. Every time I closed my eyes all I could see was her face turned up to mine, her lips parted and her blue eyes dazed after the kiss. Even now I could still feel the softness of her lips pressed to mine and the way she’d clutched at my shirt.
No, I shouldn’t have done it but there was no way I could regret it.
With a sigh, I stepped into the holding pen where Mistborn was summarily ignoring me and squatted down to pick up the grooming brushes. The damn horse knew my mind wasn’t on the job today and he objected to not being the centre of attention. I gathered the brushes, shoving them unceremoniously into the metal bucket. I felt a hard nudge at my back and then ended up sprawled on the ground with Mistborn standing over me. I swear the jerk was smiling evilly down at me.
“Do that again,” I said, getting to my feet, “and you won’t get those oats you love so much. I might even have to put you on rations.” I eyed him critically. “I think you might be getting fat. Maybe I need to reduce your feed—”
He stomped his foot, tossed his head and walked away from me. A smile twitched the corner of my mouth. Other people might think that horses were dumb beasts that had no personality, but I knew better. Mistborn was smart—too smart for his own good sometimes—and he knew exactly what I was saying.
Shaking my head, I picked up the rest of the brushes and climbed out of the pen. As I jumped to the ground, a familiar blonde head appeared in my vision.
“What ya doin’?” Archer asked, looking up at me with eyes that were just like his mother’s.
“What are you doing here Archer?”
He shrugged and turned his eyes to Mistborn. The horse had come over to the fence and lowered his head so that Archer could reach out and brush his nose with tentative fingers.
“Be careful,” I said in a controlled voice so as not to startle either horse or boy.
Mistborn rolled his eyes at me before nudging Archer’s hand for more. I watched in amazement as Mistborn behaved as gentle as a lamb while Archer scritched his nose. If it had been anyone else, Mistborn would have taken a nice bite out of them but for some unknown reason, he liked Archer. I still didn’t trust him with the boy, but I was willing to concede that Mistborn wouldn’t hurt him…today.
“Does your grandfather know you’re here?” I asked, keeping my voice light.
“Pépé has gone out.”
“Out?”
Archer nodded and reached up to scratch Mistborn behind his ears. Mistborn sighed and closed his eyes and I shook my head.
“He goes out every day. I’m supposed to stay at the cabin but I wanted to see Mistborn.”
“Every day?” I asked, not sure I liked what I was hearing. No, I knew I didn’t like what I was hearing.
“He says he has business in town. He leaves me food and toys but…” Archer shrugged and shot me a quick look. “I got bored and I missed Mistborn.”
“Does your Mama know?”
“Pépé told me not to tell her. He said she wouldn’t understand.”
There is no way in hell Savannah would understand her father leaving her son alone for hours on end, but it wasn’t my place to tell her.
“Okay well, if you’re going to come up to the stables every day to see Mistborn then I’m going to have to put you to work,” I said.
“Work?” he asked, turning big eyes up to me. “But I’m just a kid.”
“That’s the price you have to pay if you want to see Mistborn,” I said.
“What would I have to do?” he asked.
“There’re other horses that need to be fed and groomed and their stables mucked out. There’s saddles and bridles and other tack that need to be cleaned and polished.”
“And if I do all that will you let me ride Mistborn?”
“Ride him?” I asked, and Archer looked up at me eagerly. “No, not ride him. Visit with him.”
“But I want to ride him.”
“Have you ever ridden a horse before?”
“No,” Archer replied, looking back at Mistborn.
“Well, if you do your chores then maybe I can teach you to ride.”
“On Mistborn?”
He looked up at me with such a hopeful face that I couldn’t help but smile. “No, not Mistborn, one of the ponies.”
“I don’t want to ride a pony.”
“You have to start somewhere and you can’t ride Mistborn until you know how to ride. Take it or leave it.”
He huffed out a breath. “Okay, fine. But as soon as I’m ready, I’m going to ride Mistborn.”
I smiled as I led him away and into the stable. He was as stubborn as his mother.
Savannah
I flicked through the rack of clothes feeling out of sorts. I hadn’t slept well, as thoughts of Jed and that kiss played over and over in my mind. It wasn’t my first kiss, the fact I had Archer was proof positive of that, but it was one of the best…maybe even the best I’d ever had.
“Are these the right dresses?” I asked Margaret as I flicked through the rack yet again, hating everything that I saw.
“Uh-huh,” she replied.
I looked up to see her staring out the window, a dreamy look on her face. She hadn’t been herself this morning either. Margaret was normally super efficient and organised but this morning she was…not. She had been standing at the window for far too long and I felt something squeeze tight in my chest. I knew exactly what she could see fr
om that window. I had stood there a time or two myself, especially in the last few days. I had a horrible thought that maybe Margaret had developed a little crush on a certain horse trainer. That window looked directly down into the stables and I knew standing there would give her a clear view of Jed as he went about his work.
“Margaret,” I said, a little harsher than was probably necessary.
She turned to look at me, her cheeks flushing. “Hmm?”
“These dresses. They’re awful.”
She turned back to the window. “They’re the ones you ordered.”
“How can you even tell? You’ve been staring out that window all morning. I could be showing you a rack of potato sacks.”
“Chill, Savannah,” Margaret said, and her soft rebuke was enough to shut me up on the spot. Margaret never talked back. I shut my gaping mouth with a click. “I signed for the dresses when they arrived. I unpacked them and hung them for your inspection. I know those are the dresses you ordered.”
I huffed out a breath, completely lost for words. Where was the mousy little Margaret who cowered under my tyranny? She turned from the window and smiled a big, bright smile at me.
“Seriously,” she said. “You need to relax. You’re like this every time there is an event. You are good at what you do…no you’re great at what you do. You just need to take a breath.”
I sucked in a deep breath and closed my eyes, trying to find my calm. Margaret might be right that I over-thought every single detail of the outfits I pulled together for the queen, but it would only take one slip up and I would be out on the street. The last two years had been a dream for me and I was determined not to do anything to jeopardise my position here. Archer and Papa counted on it.
But that wasn’t what had me all discombobulated today, not that I was going to tell Margaret that. I couldn’t tell anyone the real reason I felt like a cat on a hot tin roof. It wasn’t the dresses or the upcoming Winter Ball that had me feeling out of sorts and grumpier than usual. That honour belonged to a certain six foot four cowboy and the kiss that had made me forget my own name.
