Thalia gave a little pout, but then smiled again. “It would doubtless not have been pleasant in winter. This has been so delightful, my dear boy, but now I need to retire. Such a long day.”
Lord Rothgar was there first, but Genova hurried to Thalia’s side, grateful for escape, and that Thalia had cut short that exchange, surely on purpose. Even so, she still prickled with awareness of a circling storm.
As they followed a footman upstairs, Thalia chattered of apricot crisps and tapestries and mazes and nothings. Genova was shocked by an urge to scream at her to shut up.
Oh, for a private space, no matter how mean, and peace and quiet in which to think!
Chapter Sixteen
Ash followed Thalia and Miss Smith out of the room, but not up the stairs. He had no desire for talk or scrutiny, though Thalia’s intervention had been as well. A duel to the death, even a verbal one, would be inconvenient.
“Are you accepting the olive branch?”
He turned to find Rothgar behind him. “Was the invitation here an olive branch?”
“What else?”
“A call to battle?”
One of the elegant hounds had accompanied its master, and Rothgar idly stroked its silky ears. “The enmity has always come from the Trayce side.”
“Has it? What was your purpose in inviting my family here?”
“How distressing,” Rothgar said, apparently to the dog, “to have a reputation that makes an invitation to Christmas revelries a matter for suspicion.” He looked up. “This is Boudicca, by the way.”
Ash was aware of being given a breathing moment, but took it. “What sort of dog is she?”
“A Persian gazelle hound. We have persuaded her and Zeno not to pursue the deer. It doubtless causes them frustration, but in a civilized world we cannot follow our rude natures. Perhaps you would like a pup from the next litter.”
After a moment, Rothgar added, “I make that offer only to people I believe know how to value a gift.”
Ash snapped his guards in place. “You cannot know me well enough to judge.”
“I have observed you. Having—I apologize for the unfairness—over ten years advantage on you, I have witnessed many stages.”
“So you baited your hook, and I took it.” Damnation. He was being pushed into leaving.
Rothgar’s brows rose. “I sent an invitation. I didn’t think you would come.”
“I wouldn’t have except for Genova, and the great-aunts.” Ash launched a dart. “You could have visited them anytime during the past thirty years.”
“I confess, I never thought of it. Given their fond memories, I’m slain with remorse.”
“Not apparently.”
“Perhaps I’m a walking corpse. How would you know?”
“I could stab you to see if you bleed.”
“But how embarrassing if I did.” Rothgar picked up a crystal dish from a nearby table and offered it. “Apricot crisp?”
Bemused, Ash picked one up and nibbled. “Very tasty.”
“And I haven’t had any since I was a child. You see how the disagreements between our families harm us all. You can have more if you stay. Having breached the portals it would be a shame, don’t you think, to leave with treats as yet untasted?”
Ash felt as if he was being entangled in gilded whimsy. “What if I’m here to seek out your weaknesses and use them against you?”
“Like Loki?”
