“Bastion, you carry Sothbridge, and I’ll carry Colby.”
Since I can’t talk, I struggle in Eban’s grip as a way to express my displeasure at this plan. But he just makes soothing noises.
“I know it’s overwhelming Colby, but we have got you now, everything is going to be okay. Nobody is going to hurt you anymore.”
Hurt me? Oh lord, this is terrible. Please don’t tell me my parents are involved in this misguided intervention. But I can just picture them telling Eban about my black eye.
I’m all out of options, I’m just going to have to go with them. Once we are wherever they are taking me, they will feel safe and calm down and remove this stupid silence spell. Then I will be able to talk and explain everything.
Bastion picks Harry up and throws him over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift. I wince. These people hate Harry and he is completely vulnerable. Defenseless. No, not defenseless, he has me. I won’t let them hurt him.
Lord Garrington strides towards me but I shake my head and dart to the open window before he can scoop me up. Eban’s sigh of relief makes me feel all sorts of conflicted. As does voluntarily leaving with mine and Harry’s abductors.
I can only pray that this disastrous misunderstanding is all sorted out soon and nobody is left with any hard feelings. But the look of betrayal on Harry’s face before he went down, doesn’t fill me with much hope. He is not a man who trusts easily. Will I ever be able to win it back?
My throat tightens. How has everything gone so wrong?
Chapter twenty-three
“Idon’thaveStockholmSyndrome!”
Saying it louder doesn’t seem to convince Eban anymore than the thousand times I have said it quietly. I huff in frustration and cross my arms.
“I know it is confusing,” Eban begins again.
“It’s not confusing!” I interrupt. “Just because your husband was an asshole, doesn’t mean that mine is!”
The flash of hurt on Eban’s face makes me feel awful. He has gone to so much effort to help me, and as misguided as it all is, he does not deserve my rudeness.
“Sothbridge is not a nice person. He molested Fen and tried to claim him as his own. Xander had to fight him in a duel to stop him taking Fen away. He gave you a black eye. He flew into a rage at a ball, dragged you away and you weren’t seen again for the rest of the evening. Just because you were dancing with someone.”
I’m just staring at Eban. I know I am. But I can’t find the words. Everything he said is true. Sort of. Just not in the way he is thinking.
“It’s not like that,” I mumble uselessly.
Harry had motives for trying to steal Lord Garrington’s vessel. Not very nice ones and probably just revenge. But he had a reason. And my black eye was an accident, and at the ball he had been furious at Baxby, not me, but I don’t really know why.
Even just saying it in my head, it doesn’t sound very convincing. How the hell am I going to fix this? This first step of my plan - getting my friends to let me and Harry go, is turning out to be impossible. Nevermind the second step of talking Harry out of smiting everyone the moment he is free.
“Where is Harry?” I ask morosely.
“In the basement, warded and in magic binding cuffs. He is not getting free.” Eban pats me reassuringly on my knee and pours some more tea.
The thought of Harry like that is as far from reassuring as it is possible to be. Is he scared? Furious? Does he think this was all my idea and that I have betrayed him?
“Can I see him?” I wince at how whiny I sound.
Eban shakes his head and hands me my refilled cup of tea. I take it and have a sip. It feels all kinds of wrong to be doing something so normal while Harry is imprisoned. I’m sitting here, in a lovely drawing room, while he is in a cold, dark basement. I can’t stand it.
“What about when I am ripe?” I challenge.
Eban winces. “We thought of that, don’t worry. Archie is hosting a small dinner party here tomorrow to introduce you to some nice mages.”
I stare at Eban in horror, but he is deadly serious. He really just expects me to choose someone else to sleep with? As if it’s nothing more than shopping for a new pair of shoes? He squirms uncomfortably under the force of my glare.
“I’m sorry, darling. I know it’s not ideal. But Xander and Archie are very devoted to their boyfriends.”
My tea goes everywhere. I can’t believe Eban just said that. As if sleeping with Lord Garrington or Earl Hathbury would be any better.
