Heartless(100)

“Catherine!” Her mother slapped her hand down and the hem fell, but not before Mary Ann’s hand had flown to her mouth. She had seen the damage at the theater. She knew the miracle of it.

Cath dared to turn her focus on the King. Her suitor. She gulped, but guilt over her mussed hair and swollen lips was barely a gnat pestering at the back of her thoughts. “Your Majesty, please. You can’t arrest him. He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

The King ducked his chin between the folds of his cloak. The crown started to slip on his head.

“Nothing wrong!” her mother barked, fluttering her arms. “He kidnapped you! Twice!”

Catherine’s breath snagged.

“I can’t imagine what spell this man has on you,” her mother continued, “but to steal you away … once, directly from beneath the nose of your betrothed—”

He’s not my betrothed.

“And even from our own house, your own chambers!” She wailed. She was crying again. Catherine’s father scooped her into his arms, but she pushed him away, turning her wrath on Jest, who was still on his knees, held firm by the guards. “You wretch! You villain! How dare you!”

Jest held her gaze, his jaw twitching, his expression unreadable.

“Mama, stop it!” Catherine clung to her arm. “It isn’t like that. He’s … He…”

Her thoughts skidded to a stop.

Her parents knew. They knew he’d come to her chambers. They knew they’d sneaked away in the middle of the night.

Her eyes drifted back to Mary Ann, chest aching with betrayal.

Mary Ann stared back, her eyes watering and hands clasped. I’m sorry, she mouthed.

“We were expecting a demand for ransom,” her father said, his voice gruff. “We didn’t know if we would ever see you again.”

“Yet here I am,” Cath said, still reeling. “Not kidnapped. Not ransomed. I can explain everything.”

“He stole you away from this very house!” her father bellowed. “Unchaperoned! Anything could have happened!”

“But nothing did happen—”

“You mean to tell me—” His voice had darkened. He was an ocean storm gathering on the horizon. “That my daughter, my angel, went with him willingly?”

Her cheeks flamed. “I … Father…”

“Did my daughter,” he continued, speaking as if every word were a strain, “sneak out of my house in the middle of the night, alone, with the court joker, and attend a gathering of strangers and ruffians and who knows what sorts of creatures?”

Her ribs collapsed inward, pushing the air from her lungs. How many of her secrets had Mary Ann told?

This was her last chance, she knew. To deny it all. To blame Jest for everything, to pass the consequences onto his shoulders. To maintain her parents’ perception of her forever.

She swallowed down the knowledge of how easy it would be.

And how impossible.

No, she could not betray him.

She squeezed her fists and opened her mouth, but it was a deeper voice that spoke.

“No.”

They all spun to Jest. His chin was high, but his eyes downcast. He didn’t look at Cath, or her parents, or the King. “She did not come with me willingly, though she might think it.”

Her pulse sputtered. “Jest!”

The chattering insects had silenced and for a moment there was only the burble of the creek behind them. Jest looked up and met her stunned expression with something dark and determined. “I used a charm to persuade her to come with me. It was a trick.”

“He’s lying. That isn’t—”

“Lady Pinkerton is innocent. She is not at fault for anything that’s happened.”

The Marchioness wilted with relief and gratitude, her faith in all the world restored.

“But, why?” stammered the King, his voice a squeak in the darkness. Cath could never recall seeing him so distraught, so unhappy, and the look of betrayal gave her a sharp sting of guilt. “Why would you do it, Jest?”

Jest fixed his eyes on the King, expressionless. “My loyalty belongs to the White King and Queen of Chess. I was sent to steal the heart of your queen and bring it back. I have been trying to woo her, so that her heart would be mine to take once you were married.”

The King stumbled back, a hand over his chest as if Jest had stabbed him. “How could you do such a thing to Lady Pinkerton?”

Cath tensed. “Jest. Don’t—”

“Hold your tongue, daughter of mine.” Her father’s firm hand landed on her shoulder. “It’s clear that he still has you under some enchantment.”

Jest’s gaze skipped to her. “It’s true. I have been using every skill at my disposal to mesmerize her.”

Goose bumps swept across her skin.

He had her heart, and she had his. Nothing could change that.

Nothing …

But he was making himself a villain. To her parents. To the King. To all of Hearts.

And what for? To save a reputation she cared less for by the minute?

Her mother nodded. “You see? He’s confessed his crimes, with us all here to witness it. What fortune that we discovered this now, before it could go any further. Thank heavens Mary Ann came to her senses and thought to ask for help.”