The Blood Spell (Ravenspire, #4)(37)
“Yes, I’m alone, and you’re with a crowd of your friends, all of whom are probably wondering why the prince followed the merchant girl outside.” Her voice was brittle.
He rested his hands on her shoulders. “They’re used to me chasing after a beautiful girl.”
“Bet they aren’t used to you catching one who is immune to your charms.”
He gave her an exaggerated parody of the smile he’d trotted out for Jacinthe at the farmhouse. “Are you sure you’re immune?”
She rolled her eyes and lightly smacked his shoulder. “Rarely have I ever been so sure of anything.”
“You wound me.” He winked.
“Wink at me one more time, and I’ll wound you for real.”
He laughed. “There’s the Blue I know and almost like.”
She surprised herself by laughing with him.
He dropped his hands from her shoulders, and she wasted a foolish second wishing he’d touch her again, if only to keep her from sinking back into her loneliness.
Quietly, he asked, “Will you tell me why you came here?”
She looked away as the violins took up another merry tune, the notes tumbling over each other in a mad dash up and down the scale.
She should leave now. Tell him she was fine and send him back to his friends while she walked the long trek back to the farmhouse, where no doubt Dinah waited to discuss Blue’s disobedience.
But just like at Papa’s funeral, there was something warm and comforting about Kellan’s presence. When he wasn’t trying to flirt or charm or get himself killed, he was actually a very intuitive person with a generous heart. How she could’ve spent so much time in his presence over the years without seeing that was a mystery. Maybe she’d been blind. Or maybe he’d always been in such a rush to implement another madcap scheme that he’d never bothered showing her another side.
It didn’t matter. What mattered was that the hot, sharp grief within her had settled into a dull ache, and that instead of feeling irritated with him, she found herself telling him the truth.
“I wanted to dance. I thought the laughter and the music sounded so much better than walking home alone in the dark to a house full of strangers.” She lifted her shoulders in a tiny shrug. “I guess it was kind of foolish since I didn’t have a dance partner.”
He met her gaze and gave her the charming smile that usually made her want to smack him. Bowing low, he offered his hand and said, “You have one now.”
FIFTEEN
TIME WAS RUNNING out. Dinah had pressured every contact she had, but no one would loan her anywhere close to the amount of coin she needed. She had taken bold measures to kill Pierre de la Cour and forge a guardianship document that gave her control of his daughter and his property, but the girl had yet to even reach for the little pot, where Dinah knew for a fact the results of her experimental gold still lay. And she had less than a week before the estate’s debts were turned over to the royal magistrate for review, effectively ending her bid for the throne.
In truth, she might not even have that long. Rumors had begun to spread. People wondered why she wasn’t living in the Chauveau mansion, and even her lie about wanting a change of scenery for her daughters after their father’s awful death wasn’t enough to convince everyone. She could pack them up and move back home. It was still her house until the estate review was completed.
But if she did that, she put her daughters in close proximity to the odious Mr. Dubois, who’d taken to visiting all the business interests she owned, asking questions only a prospective owner would ask. True, he could ask the right staff members for her current location and find her easily enough, but at least her daughters wouldn’t be subjected to the daily injury of whispered speculation about their father, their finances, or their future.
Plus, if she returned to the Chauveau quarter, she’d have to either give up on her plan to get Blue to create gold for her or take the girl and her ridiculous cat with her, and Dinah was certain Blue would fight tooth and nail to stay at her farmhouse. She needed the girl on her side. Needed her to start making gold again because she wanted to, not because Dinah was forcing her. It was the only way to ensure the girl didn’t deliberately botch the experiment. There was a wide streak of independence in Blue, and Dinah needed the girl to feel like making gold for the Chauveaus was her own choice. Dinah just hadn’t quite figured out how to do it.
Meanwhile, she needed a distraction from the rumors that were swiftly spreading. Something that would grab the attention of the queen and the entire royal council so completely that they never thought to look into any silly little whispers about the Chauveaus.
Blue leaving the shop early gave Dinah the perfect opportunity. First, she double-checked the locks on both shop doors. It would never do for the woman who’d championed for the death of those caught using magic to be seen doing magic herself.
When she was certain no one could interrupt her, she pulled one of Blue’s pots onto the stove, lit the burner, and reached for some elfynrod, threffalk, mollywog, and charing root. A dusting of silver and a small thread of copper went into the pot next. Then Dinah stood over the mixture, stirred counterclockwise thirteen times, and whispered the words to a spell she hadn’t used in nearly two decades, praying the tiny spark of fae in her blood would be enough to infuse the mixture with magic.