Heartless(56)

Jest’s eyes widened with surprise, then softened. He settled his free hand onto their entwined fingers, encasing hers completely. “I don’t know. Once our mission is complete … perhaps I’ll have a reason to come back, and to stay.”

“Won’t…” Her voice caught and she had to clear her throat to continue. “Won’t your queen need you?”

“She appointed some replacement Rooks in our absence.” His gaze shifted to some spot over Cath’s shoulder and he frowned. “Bizarre little men, the Tweedles. Always fighting over a rattle, but … I suppose they fit the role well enough. Maybe she won’t need me anymore, or Raven.” He looked back and said, with more hesitation, “If I had a reason to stay, that is.”

“Naturally.” Her lips had dried and she licked them instinctively.

Jest inhaled and dropped her hand, taking half a step back. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I apologize, Lady Pinkerton. I’ve kept you out too long.”

“No, I…” She folded her hands against her stomach, wondering how her fingers had gotten so cold so quickly. “Thank you for telling me your story. I promise your secret will be safe with me.” She hesitated. “Or at least, I think it’s a secret. Does the King know?”

“No one knows. Only you, and Raven of course, and Hatta and Haigha.”

Her eyes widened. “Are they from Chess too?”

Jest rocked on his heels. “Of a sort, but their secrets are not mine to tell.”

She nodded in understanding, although her curiosity gnawed at her insides.

“Anyhow, being the protecting sort, my job won’t be finished until you’re returned to your chambers.” Jest took off his three-pointed hat and set it on her head. “Hold that, if you would.”

“I should have known the hat would play a role.”

“Actually, it just gets in the way. Besides, I was right. It does look better on you.” Reaching overhead, Jest grabbed on to a low-hanging branch and pulled himself into the tree. Catherine backed up to peer into the shadows. He was pleasant to watch, so nimble and fast.

Crouching on a low bough, he held his hand toward her. “Now give me your hand.”

She traced the limbs of the tree up to her window, apprehensive. “Have you run out of magic?”

“Some things, like climbing trees, are best done without. Your hand, my lady.”

She twisted her mouth to one side. “You don’t understand. I’m not … like you.”

His hand started to sag. “Like me?”

“Graceful. Strong.”

Jest’s expression warmed.

“You might be surprised how often I’m compared to a walrus, actually. And walruses do not climb trees.”

At this, his growing smile vanished. He hesitated, momentarily speechless, before retracting his hand. “Of all the nonsense I’ve heard tonight, that’s the worst of it. But suit yourself.” He straddled the tree branch, his boots kicking at the air. “Go ahead and use the front door, if you prefer. I’ll wait here.”

Cath pressed the hat down tighter to her head and scanned the tree branches again. She considered his proposal and could already hear the loud squeak of the front door that she’d been hearing all her life.

Huffing, she held her arms up toward him.

His grin returned and he shifted into a more stable position.

A flash of panic flickered through Cath’s mind as he latched on to her wrists—what if she was too heavy for him to lift?—but moments later Jest was pulling her up without any apparent difficulty. He waited until he was sure she had her footing and one hand clasped around a branch before he let go.

The climb was easier than she expected, though Jest was doing most of the work. He instructed her where to place her hands, which branches to grab hold of, how best to leverage her weight. It felt like being a child again, scrambling through the trees, make believing she had been born into a family of chimpanzees. She had to stifle her laughter so she wouldn’t wake anyone in the house.

Her bedroom window was still open. Jest stepped inside before turning to help her over the gap. It was the most daring part, trusting that her legs could span the distance, and she had to hold her breath until her toes were on the windowsill and Jest’s hands were on her waist, pulling her across.

Catherine gasped and fell into him, hat bells jingling. Jest’s arms encircled her and he turned, catching her mid-fall. Cath found herself hanging in his arms, her fingers digging into his shoulders, one foot still on the windowsill and the other scraping against the carpet. Her heartbeat danced between them and a tea-drunk giggle threatened to intrude into the chilly quiet of the morning.

Jest was grinning, and though it was too dark to see the color of his eyes, she could picture exactly what shade they were.

Gulping, she removed the hat and returned it to Jest’s head. “Thank you,” she murmured, hoping he knew it wasn’t just for helping her up the tree and through the window. Hoping he knew it was for everything. The thrills, the laughs, the secrets he’d shared. The night may have had moments of panic and terror, but it had also been an entire night when she didn’t have to be the daughter of a marquess.

He didn’t set her down. Didn’t let her go.

“When will I see you again?” he whispered.