The Bride Tournament (Hexed Hearts Book 1)(41)

Finished with her portion of the competition, Ellie made a hasty retreat to the outskirts of the crowd, intent on watching Lady Olivia. She hid in the shadows.

“I’ve spoken to the hexed women,” Gerard whispered.

She squeaked and turned. “Warn a girl before you sneak up on her.”

“My apologies.” He bowed his hooded head.

“How many are there?” she asked, worried.

“Seven.” Gerard slid a hand around her waist and led her out of the ballroom.

Swiftly, the duo made their way into the royal suites.

“Taking me somewhere private?” She mocked Gerard’s earlier tone.

“Ha.” He cleared his throat. “The billiards room requires a key to enter.” He held up said brass skeleton key. He opened the door and ushered her in first. The door shut on a soft click.

“Why bring me here, Gerard?” She gave an appreciative sigh for the wide felted table at the center of the room.

“I’m sorry.”

She spun.

Gerard hung his head, brown locks spilt across his forehead.

Breath shook in her lungs. “Sorry for what?”

“Sorry that I never told you my identity.” He toed the ground with a leather boot.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thank you.”

His head jolted up, hazel gaze searing her to the bone. “Thank you? You’re not angry?” He crossed his arms, the look of chagrin replaced with unease.

She turned toward the table. “Not at you…”

“Why not?”

His footsteps padded close. His soft breath tickled the hairs on her nape. She was hyper-aware of his nearness, his presence behind her. Electricity buzzed down her back. I’m angry with myself. She’d vowed never to marry, never to take a man as her own, never to promise her independence away.

But she found herself thinking what marriage to Gerard would be like.

Marriage meant leaving her father and her home, the last shred of her mother Ellie had to hold on to. A husband would expect her to move to his estate. Care for his ancestral home. She’d be miserable, knowing the whole time her father slipped further and further into oblivion while the Burbes ignored him and the manor. Only fixing what they intended to show to the public or selling it.

Lady Irene would marry off her daughters, move in with the wealthiest, and then the manor would no longer be Elbourne Estate. She shuffled her serviceable boots. The thin carpet squelched under her feet.

“Why aren’t you angry at me?” Gerard bent his frame, wide shoulders eclipsing the light from the oil lamps.

She stared blindly at the collection of pool cues, warm male at her back. She closed her eyes.

“I understand the need to pretend you’re someone else. To hide from the burdens of your station.” The clock tower struck four. The sound reverberated through the castle. Deflated, tired, and emotionally confused, she ducked out from under Gerard’s outstretched arm and ran from the billiards room.

***

Gerard glared at the missive in Edward’s hand. “No.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but someone saw you with Ellie and they’ve demanded impartiality.” Edward shrugged and swept Gerard into the courtyard. The valet took an old cigar from his pocket, rolled and scented it with an appreciative sigh. “For Strategic Maneuvering, you must make yourself scarce. No interference, no prying eyes. Queen’s orders.”

“Hers or MAM’s? I’m supposed to be cheering on my future wife.” Hostility hunched his shoulders; a tense ball of stress worked its way under his shoulder blade.

Edward raised a brow and lit the cigar. A sweet-scented cloud curled outward from the valet’s lips. Gerard shook his head at the words he’d left unsaid. I was cheering on Ellie.

He clamped his mouth shut.

“So, you’ve picked Ellie, then.” Disapproval tensed Edward’s features.

“No.” The words slipped from his stiff jaw. Merry sunshine beat the flagstones. He squinted and avoided Edward’s gaze.

“The onlookers think you favor her. Do you or do you not?”

“We’re friends, she’s helping me prove that Lady Olivia is cheating. That’s all.”

“Perhaps…” Edward stubbed out his cigar and pocketed the remains. He pushed off from the wall, dirt spiraling at his boots.

“Perhaps, what?” Gerard fisted his hands.

“Nothing, sire.”

“Dammit, Edward. What?”

Edward stared coldly into Gerard’s face, devoid of emotion. “Perhaps Ellie is playing the informer, keeping you close, ensuring her place in the competition. Cheating, as Olivia is. Only this is worse; she’s using you to bypass the rules.”

Edward, his wisest confidant, walked away.

Gerard stood there, watching dirt float in the sunshine, replaying every word, every glance, every touch. She wouldn’t…would she?

***

Ellie tugged her black velvet mask further down her face to cover her cheeks and the crest of her nose. The orange glow of sunset slipped past the high window frames in the great hall. It was dark here, and the candles offered no comfort.

The mob of women in taffeta dresses left sparkles and froths of magic on the floor. She tiptoed to avoid it. She’d always wanted magic, wanted to experience the acceptance so long associated with the gift.