Give Me (Wyrd and Fae #1)(23)

The way Bausiney spread the jam over the scone made Lilith want to be that scone.

“Only to hear her call out another man’s name at the crucial moment.” He handed the plate to Lilith. As she took a bite, he winked and said, “Poor bastard.”

“There’s another romance at Tintagos Castle.” Bella broke the spell of the scone. “The one the inn is named for.”

“Indeed, yes,” Bausiney said. “The lovers of the tragic fall. And a sadder love story was never told, but this isn’t the proper setting. You’ll hear all over a pot of Earl Grey at Glimmer Cottage tea shop.”

When they returned to the Tragic Fall, Bausiney handed them each out of the carriage and air-kissed everyone’s cheeks. He held Lilith back. “I’ll pick you up at nine tomorrow night. Casual dress. Something that can withstand a bit of dust.”

“Bausiney, you intrigue me.”

“It’s all part of the service, Evergreen.”

When the carriage driver said walk on to the horses, Lilith realized it would be more than twenty-four hours before she saw Bausiney again. It felt awful. How had she let this happen? He’d slipped in way too close to her heart and was in danger of becoming essential to her happiness. She was glad for the time apart. She didn’t want Bausiney or anybody crawling inside and taking over her life. Not again—not ever.

She wasn’t going to spend tomorrow with the French girls either. They were inside with Marion at the front desk. When they saw her, their conversation broke off abruptly.

“You’ll be dining with us tonight, dear?” Marion said.

“Looking forward to it,” Lilith said. “I’ve never had beef Wellington.”

It was a good thing Bella and Cammy couldn’t really shoot daggers from their eyes, but Marion seemed upset too. That was unexpected. Lilith didn’t give a flying banana peel for the sisters’ opinions, but it would hurt if Marion thought she wasn’t good enough for Bausiney.

“So,” Bella said. “Dinner with his lordship tomorrow?”

“All part of the service,” Cammy parroted, smirking. They walked away to the lift.

“Stuff them,” Marion said as soon as the lift closed. “If Cade wants to take you to dinner, who are they to judge?”

“You don’t mind then?” But no matter what Marion thought, Lilith had no business flirting with Cade Bausiney. Lord Tintagos, great gods.

“Of course not, dear.” Marion patted her arm. “Only…”

Lilith knew exactly what she was thinking. He deserved someone like—she hated the thought—but someone rich and classy, beautiful and well-born. Someone like Jenna Sarumen.

“Only I’d hate for you to break his heart,” Marion said. “He’s more sensitive than he lets on.”

“That’s your worry?” Lilith said. She threw her arms around Marion in a big hug.

“You won’t be with us long, you know.”

“Great gods.” Lilith let Marion go. “Countess Dumnos. I didn’t notice it before.”

In the photograph on the wall behind Marion, Bausiney’s mother stared not into the camera but past it, her eyes wide and soft, her lips slightly parted, unreservedly available to the one behind the lens. “She’s in love.”

“No,” Marion said. “A stranger took that picture. A street vendor, she told me. But she does look…entranced.”

“Not a complete stranger, I don’t think.” But whoever took that picture, it wasn’t Lord Dumnos. “She looks positively enchanted.”





8

Hobnobbing



Since Cade was a kid, he could always tell when Moo wasn’t happy. This last week she’d been all over the map, giddy and nervous. Even afraid, which was disturbing; nothing scared Moo. But up or down, she hadn’t been happy since the Handover was announced. Maybe others couldn’t tell, but her natural cheerfulness had been an act. He and Ian were both worried about her.

This morning she wasn’t afraid. She was upset. She’d knocked about, making too much noise, her signal that she had something to say and Cade had bloody well better hear it. He’d come down to the kitchen and sat at the worktable bench with his back to the old open bread oven and waited for her to say what was wrong.

She’d made a fire in the oven and put the kettle on—as ever, making things cozy. She rinsed out the gruel jug at the sink, keeping her back to him and her shoulders rigid. The biggest tell was her silence. Moo always had plenty to say when she came up the hill with Dad’s breakfast, and she hadn’t said any of it.

The light finally dawned: his aunt was upset with him.

“Ian found the liver all right then?” That would get her going.

She sniffed but didn’t take the bait. Silently she dried the jug and dropped it into her bag. At last, she relented.

“I just don’t know why you have to date one of my guests.”

“That’s what this is about?” He relaxed. “You’ve never cared about that before. And it’s not a date.” That wasn’t exactly true. With everything he had in mind for tonight, it was a date.

“She’ll be gone after the ceremony tomorrow.” The kettle started to whistle, and Moo automatically went about making tea. He preferred coffee but had never said. It would break her heart.