“I love you too,” he mumbled into his skin. Oliver’s hand lightly traced the strands of grey at his temples as he turned onto his side to face him. Through his lids, Felipe could feel Oliver’s gaze tracing over his features. “I promise, I’m tired from sex, not ill, Oliver.”
“I didn’t think you were, but if you are, there’s jerky and a hunk of cheese in my jacket pocket.”
Felipe opened his eyes expecting to find Oliver laughing, but his expression was earnest. They would have to discuss that later. “I’m fine. It’s your quilt and body heat that are lulling me.”
“Ourquilt,” Oliver corrected.
When Felipe gave him a quizzical look, Oliver reached past his shoulder and held up the corner of the quilt. Hidden in the pattern of the backing were a few lines of script stitched in white thread. To most, it would have been illegible in the darkness, but for Felipe, the firelight was plenty bright. It read,To my Oliver and his future love, May the work of my hands always keep you warm. Nana.
“See, it was meant for both of us.”
Felipe swallowed against the sudden thickness in his throat as Oliver smoothed the blanket back over his shoulder. He hoped it was too dark for his partner to see the moisture in his eyes as he ducked his head against his chest. The green carnations… of course, his grandmother knew.
“I read the letter from my parents by the way,” Felipe blurted, trying to keep the emotion from his voice. “No crises. Just a letter. I’ll reply to it later.”
“That’s good,” Oliver replied slowly, the silentI thinkhovering between them as he studied Felipe’s expression in the dim light. “I’m glad they’re all right. Felipe, since you briefed me about the case, does this mean we’re going to Aldorhaven?”
“Yeah, I’ll tell the head inspector tomorrow that we’re taking the case, though I do have one condition before we do.”
“You tormenting me wasn’t a condition?” Oliver replied with feigned exasperation. “I thought I was going to spend in my drawers for a minute there.”
Felipe laughed. “No, that was a bribe for the condition. My only condition is that we don’t leave for Aldorhaven until next week. I’d like to go to Louisa and Agatha’s for Sunday dinner and get my affairs in order first.”
Chapter Six
Familial Expectations
Walking toward Louisa and Agatha’s house on East 17th Street, Oliver watched Felipe from the corner of his eye. There were no lines of fatigue under his eyes yet, but if it hadn’t been for Sunday dinner, he still would have been running himself ragged at the society. Since Friday night, Felipe had spent most of his time in the library and archives trying to dig up anything he could on Aldorhaven, though there hadn’t been much in the newspapers apart from the announcement of a new mill and articles singing the praises of the town’s founding family. Then, that morning Oliver awoke to find boxes of bullets, rope, a series of throwing knives, a flare pistol with ammunition, and a wicked dagger with a horn handle Oliver had never seen before stacked on their dining table. With the other investigators disappearing, he understood why Felipe would be cautious, but he still didn’t like that they were taking half the armory with them.
Oliver thumbed his ring. He had hoped to whisk Felipe off to have a proper date before they left for the case, but between finishing up thepaperwork for Mrs. Ennis’s blessedly uneventful death, processing whatever evidence other investigators dropped off, and packing for the trip, Oliver hadn’t had a spare moment to himself. He could have pulled out the ring after they came back from getting bagels and lox that morning, but he didn’t want to propose for the sake of doing so. There would be plenty of time after the case was over to do it properly.
As they reached the stoop, Felipe winced at the eruption of shrill barking from inside the house. Kuchen’s black and orange head appeared through the curtains, followed by Pastel, who took one look at the men and howled like she was being murdered. Agatha Pfeiffer’s voice rose on the other side of the door only to be drowned beneath the dogs’ yapping. Felipe had just raised his finger to the bell when a harried Agatha opened the door with Pastel in her arms. While the orange Pomeranian tried to wiggle free and lunge at Felipe, Kuchen wagged her tail and pant-snorted at Oliver.
“Who needs a doorbell with these two?” she said with a roll of her hazel eyes as she shut the door behind them and put Pastel down.
A smile crossed Oliver’s lips as he knelt to pet each of the Pomeranians. Kuchen licked his face and tried to leap into his arms only to be tackled by her sister. The dogs tussled until, somewhere in the back of the house, Louisa yelled to them in Spanish. Pastel tilted her head before toddling off to find her with Kuchen in tow. Agatha shook her head and apologized as she took Oliver and Felipe’s hats and coats. While she prattled about the sudden cold snap with Felipe, Oliver studied her outfit to report back to Gwen. The gown Agatha wore reminded him of what the heroines in her paintings often wore. It appeared to be composed of shades of blue velvet with the cut of a medieval dress with a long, hanging belt and a collar of decorative lace so large it was more like a shawl. In her dark blonde hair, she wore two decorative combs with a chain between that complimented the floral motifs in the lace. It was a different silhouette than what Oliver had seen most women wear, but he liked it; it made her look ethereal.
“You look very nice, Agatha,” Oliver said as she hung up his coat.
“Thank you, Oliver. We attended a friend’s salon this morning, soI decided to stay in my Sunday best, unlike someone,” she replied in a stage whisper.
“Some of us prefer to be comfortable!” Louisa Galvan called a moment before she stepped out of the dining room with the Pomeranians at her heels. Seeing her in her old burgundy and cream striped tea gown with her long, black hair hanging in a plain braid, no one would have guessed she had visited a prestigious salon with her Aesthete partner only hours earlier. “I can only stomach being dressed formally for so long before I lose my temper. I’d have taken to furs by now if it wasn’t my turn to cook. Come and sit. Dinner’s ready.”
Following Felipe and the others into the dining room, Oliver drew in a long breath. As always, the food smelled heavenly. A loaf of freshly sliced bread sat in the middle of the table along with a long dish filled with chicken, peppers, and tomatoes. Beside it sat a ceramic pot with a lid. Using his handkerchief, Felipe carefully opened it to reveal a pot of orange rice.
“Arroz rojo,” Felipe said with a contented sigh.
“I thought it would pair nicely with schnitzel and red sauce,” Louisa replied as she sat down and motioned for Felipe to dole out the food. “I tried not to make it too spicy for you, Oliver, but I apologize in advance if it is.”
“I’m sure it’s fine.” It didn’t smell anywhere near as sinus-searing as the chili oil Felipe liked to add to his food. “It all looks delicious.”
“Doesn’t it? Louisa’s an amazing cook. For dessert, there’s shortbread from that little bakery down the street, so make sure to leave room,” Agatha added as she passed Oliver the butter dish and a slice of bread. “You know how we’ve been working with Theo Bisclavret and Bennett Reynard on their project to combat anti-magic prejudice? Well, the other day we stopped by the society to give them the money from the Lady’s Art and Performance Society fundraiser. Bisclavret was working in the greenhouse, so we went to give it to him since Reynard wasn’t in the library. When he saw how much money was inside the envelope, his eyes got wide, and without a word, he disappeared into the shed. For a moment, I thought he was going tofind Reynard or someone else, but then, he came back with half a dozen jars of tomato sauce and pickled peppers to thank us for organizing the fundraiser.”
“What’s the point in having wealthy friends and patrons if we can’t shake them down for money every once in a while?”
Agatha laughed and tossed a piece of crust to each dog. “I told Theo he didn’t need to give us anything as we were happy to help, but he insisted. I’ve been dying to make this sauce ever since.”
“He also gave us some of those delicious pickles he makes, but they’re long gone.”
