Twice Upon A Time (Unfinished Fairy Tales #2)(47)

“Well.” I give a nervous laugh. “Maybe we should practice dancing after dinner instead. Your garden is too compact.”

“No.” His voice is deep, husky. “It is enough trouble trying to keep my hands off you in the evening.”

Slowly, he approaches me. My heart pounds. Surely, he isn’t going to kiss me—I’m like a bedraggled rat that was caught in the rain. Well, not that soaked, but still . . .

Edward brushes my damp hair from my face and leans in.





23





Someone knocks on the door. Pounding, more like it.

Both of us freeze. Edward halts a few inches from my lips, his expression soon turning from shock to annoyance. I glance at him for a second, my heart still beating fast, and move away from him. Part of me is disappointed, yet another part of me is relieved. I have a feeling that once his passion is ignited, it’s going to be really hard to stop him.

The pounding starts again, more urgently this time. Edward strides to the door, muttering something like “wring Bertram’s neck.”

But it’s Amelie who’s standing outside, her cheeks flushed and her shoulders heaving. It’s so rare that she runs.

“Apologies for the interruption, Your Highness. But Lady Elle sent a message. Miss Poppy went into labor this morning and gave birth. She’s asking if you’d like to go down to Miss Poppy’s house and see the newborns.”

“Newborns? As in plural form?”

“She gave birth to twins.”

“That’s awesome.” I brush past Edward. “Of course I’ll go! Please ask Bertram to prepare the carriage.”

“Not before you change out of your dress and dry your hair,” Edward says firmly. “You’ll catch a cold if you run around like this.”

“Hey, I’m not a little girl anymore.” I wag a finger at him. “Trust me, I can take care of myself.”

His response is to pick up his coat and drape it around me. I look up at him, and am touched by the concern in his eyes. “Kat, let’s go.”

Since I’m only visiting a friend, I have more liberty in choosing what to wear. Amelie and Mabel help me into a light cotton dress of soft, pastel colors, though there’s still no way around the corset, and I wish they could invent bras in Athelia.

“There.” Mabel twists my hair into a low bun and places a string of real forget-me-nots around the bun. “Isn’t it convenient that we have loads of flowers in the room?”

“Thanks, Mabel. You did a great job.”

When I emerge from my bedroom, Edward rises from the sofa in the sitting room. “Ready?”

“You’re coming as well?” He’s supposed to attend a meeting with the king. I know that, because at breakfast the king had mentioned he wanted to talk to Edward about renovating some areas in the capital.

“I already informed George to re-schedule.”

“Edward, I know how busy your schedule is.”

“Meetings occur daily, but a birth does not. Poppy is your close friend, and I’ve also become acquainted with her husband. An honest, decent man with whom I’m pleased to be friends.” He lays a hand on my shoulder. “When you married me, you had to deal with my many relatives. I would also take part in your circle of friends.”

I don’t know what comes over me, but I rise on tiptoe and peck his cheek. He freezes, as though I were Elsa in Frozen.

“Did you just . . .”

“Is that Bertram over there?” I point at the hulk-like figure in the courtyard. “He already has the horses saddled. Come on, let’s not keep him waiting.”

“Kat.”

Ignoring his request that I ‘repeat the action I did to him,’ I find our carriage and clamber inside. I shouldn’t have kissed him. Yet, deep down inside, I know that sooner or later, I won’t be able to stop myself from reciprocating his affection. The question is how long I can wait until Krev appears.



* * *



Poppy lives in a brownstone townhouse that wouldn’t look out of place in a colonial-style residential area in Virginia. It’s quaint and cozy, a far cry from the overwhelming splendor of the palace. If Edward and I ever get a holiday, I would like to stay at a place like this.

A housemaid opens the door and does a double-take when she sees us. Then she tries to do a deep curtsy, but without constant practice, she wobbles so badly that I reach out and steady her. “Is Poppy upstairs? Can we go and see her now?”

“Certainly, Your Highness. They’re all upstairs—the master, Lady Elle, and the parents.”

Edward and I mount the narrow staircase. Following where the voices are located, we enter a room specially set up for childbirth. It looks crowded, what with several people surrounding the bed and two cribs against the wall.

Elle is the first to see us. A huge smile lights up her face, and she waves us over. There, Poppy is lying against two pillows, Mr. Davenport stroking her damp hair, and two bundles are placed on her abdomen.

“Hello, new mommy.” I hasten to her side, while nodding to the others saying Your Highness to me.

Poppy smiles up at me. She looks weary, but she looks just as I remember—straw-colored hair, freckles, and a round face. “I’m so happy you’re able to come, Kat. It means a lot to me.” She pats the flannel towels wrapped around her babies. “Aren’t they the cutest things ever?”