To Best the Boys(39)
It takes a minute of scanning the lawns to find the crowds of local folk. And then another moment to spot Sam and Will’s family at the bottom of one of the terraces. They’ve set up a small sleeping tent and seem to be settling into their place next to one of the larger fire pits for the long haul. I look around, but I don’t see Sam or Will. All the same, their family’s laughter and tones of anticipation carry over, and something in me wishes I could join in with them for a while.
That thought brings an ache to my chest with the awareness that without Mum and Da here, the festival is not quite the same. Unlike past years, there’s no specific place for me—no spot I belong. The twinge of that realization surges and I wait for it to settle. Then eat my bread and cheese and meander a bit more before Seleni turns and grabs my shoulder. “Come on. I see the boys.”
The “boys” means Beryll and friends. They’re seated up top with their backs to the hedges that make up the Labyrinth—as if claiming their spot to be first inside. Or maybe they’re using it for a full view of the festivities, because Beryll waves at us the moment we start making our way up. He and Lawrence are with a host of boys I’ve never met. Plus a few I wish I hadn’t.
“My dear Miss Lake, where have you been?” Beryll rises from his seat.
“We have a half hour,” I whisper to Seleni, before she saunters over to join him. I turn to see if Sam or Will is anywhere around.
“Nice hat, Rhen,” a male voice calls from a spot between two girls. I peer over at Germaine as the girls with him giggle and take sips of some type of bubbly drink.
“Looks like your plan to stay an old maid is on target.”
“That’ll make two of us then,” I say, and keep searching for the boys.
Germaine chuckles. He stands and brushes off the girls and then approaches me with a thick-eyebrowed expression of something between amusement and disdain. He reaches his hand out to tap the brim of my hat, and his black eyes flicker. “I can see why Vincent likes you. You’re something to tame.”
My hand instinctively goes up to push his fingers away from my hat—except he’s already dropped them, and his calculated expression turns cool as he looks behind me, then takes a step back.
I feel Vincent’s presence before I hear him. “Miss Tellur, I’ve been searching all over for you. I’m glad you’re here. After last night, I admit my mind began to wonder a bit.”
I frown and Germaine’s eyes glint at my obvious confusion. Wonder what?
Vincent moves to stand in front of me with his perfectly coiffed hair and smile. Which expands before it falters at my hat and clothes. He keeps his mouth shut, but the impression is clear that he’s not pleased with my choice of outfit. I smirk. The next moment his grin is back and he pulls me aside from Germaine and drops his voice. “I know your walk with Mr. Wilkes last evening was out of innocence, but may I suggest you be more cautious? My father, specifically, was rather concerned with the appearance of it.”
I raise a brow. “You’ll pardon me, Mr. King, but I believe—”
He presses a forefinger to my lips. “Shh. We’ll speak of it no further. Only please know the occurrence pushed me to make a decision. I had a long talk with my father, and I told him what incredible incentive you have and what an asset your brilliant mind can be to us. To me. And while hesitant, he has acquiesced.” He puts a hand to his neck to loosen his collar.
My frown expands. Acquiesced to what? What is going on? What does he want?
“Miss Tellur, all that’s to say—I am prepared to officially request permission from your father to court you after the equinox festival.” He breaks into a smile that is odd, and even a bit proud, while his cheeks turn the color of a beet.
I stare at him.
“I’ll take your silence as joy.” He lifts my hand and places a quick peck on the back of it. “And please know I’ve not forgotten your idea to finish your research on the lung illness. I plan to ensure you have access to all the lab equipment you need. In the privacy of our home, of course.” His breath speeds up as he continues—as if the very idea excites him. “Imagine how people will respond if you can offer them health. They will love us, Rhen.”
I shake my head. The lung-fluid illness? That research was from over a year ago. It took me two years to develop it only to find out it didn’t work. Something went wrong in the process and the cure began attacking itself. I heft my bag up and try to focus on what he’s been saying.
“So? What do you think?”
What do I think about the fact that he believes he’s officially going to court me?
My words stick in my throat. I think this is too strange and too fast. Or maybe it’s a year too late. Maybe I would’ve been thrilled even two years ago. But now?
I feel nothing but the world closing in.
His gaze has fallen on my bag. “Am I right in hoping you’ve brought me a token?”
I grip the satchel. “Actually, I think I left it with my aunt and uncle. I’ll have to go find it.” With that I whirl and hurry off—down the stairs that lead away from him and toward the space where the air and people and mindsets are clear enough for me to catch my breath again as I try to stop the spinning of an evening and event that just went off-kilter.
My future is my own, I repeat in my head as I run. I didn’t say yes. My future is still my own.