Quinn braced himself on the threshold of my door. “You mean if you were in my chambers, on your knees, using every trick at your disposal to seduce me?”
His grip on the frame tightened, like he was physically holding himself back from entering after me. His eyes were dark, traveling over me. I realized with horror that I’d left the robe back in Nicolas’ room, that he’d been toodistractedto remind me to put it back on. Only a white silk chemise separated my body from the world. No wonder the guards had stared.
“I’d have locked the door.” The words were almost a purr, like the thought delighted him. “I’d let you do whatever it was you’d planned on doing while I took fistfuls of your hair and forgot how to say my own name.”
My throat was dry, yet my mouth watered. I tried to swallow.
“And after, I’d have carried you to bed and shown you exactly how little I cared about the Queen Mother’s warnings. That’s what I would have done, Nightingale. What any man with blood in his veins would’ve done.”
I took a step back to the bed, almost fearing that Quinn would lunge. But he just stood there like some supernatural being that required invitation. He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing slowly.
“It’s like trying to hold my ground in an undertow, keeping myself from you. And I’m here telling you exactly how I’d have my best friend’s wife, because when it comes to you, apparently I have no sense of self-preservation left. Gods help me.”
Shameful heat forced my gaze to falter, but not for long. The moment he spoke again, my attention was his.
“Your husband is either a saint or a fool, and I think we both know which,” Quinn said. “Now lock your door before I prove I’m neither saint nor fool, and for the love of the gods, don’t use whatever magic you used tonight ever again.”
“Magic?”I shakily replied.
Quinn scoffed at my attempted denial. “I’ve known for a while. Heed my warning: don’t enchant yourself thusly around me, because next time, I might not remember that you’re not mine to want.
Marcy’s footsteps sounded her return. Quinn leered at me for one last hungry moment, then backed away casually, the muscles in his arm relaxing.
He departed with a good-night to her, warning her to keep the door well-guarded. Marcy gave me an uncertain frown before shutting me in, and at last my back met the mattress.
Thank the gods for Quinn’s restraint.
Because if he ever looked at me that way again, I’d gladly forget I wasn’t his.
Chapter 44
We’d gone alltheway to the beaches of Norsomber, and not once did my husband come to my bed. Now Castle Altaigne bloomed around us, blessed with early Sumor growth. My dresses hugged just a little tighter around my bust and hips. Soon the gestation would be as public an affair as our marriage.
Ten weeks. That’s how long it had been since I’d married Nicolas. Nine weeks since the last time he’d touched me beyond perfunctory kisses…which was why I found myself outside Adelaide’s chambers within an hour of our return to the palace. I had only gone to my room briefly to change before I knocked on that door, hoping I’d be able to find her alone, or at least with only Dierdre.
Fortune was on my side. Dierdre answered, and I came in, finding Adelaide hunched over at her writing desk, letter in-hand.
“Your…” I began, not sure whether I still needed to wait for permission, or how I should even begin to address her. It felt strange, but I went with, “…Mother.We need to discuss—”
“The letter,” Adelaide said, lifting up her parchment. I squinted, recognizing my own handwriting. Was she only just finding the warning I’d written about ceruse? “Yes. We certainly do.”
Dierdre pulled out a chair for me. Adelaide’s face was uncharacteristically bare, the way it might look during a hunt. In fact, she was undone in many ways; her hair was loose and frazzled over her shoulders and her bodice was unlaced, causing the rest of her garments to sit loose around her figure.
“The royal physician has retired.”
I sat down. “Because of the letter?”
Adelaide didn’t answer right away. She set the paper down, massaging her temples. Dierdre poured a glass of wine and handedit to her, and the former queen guzzled it down. “Eight.That’s how many children I lost, Alana. It is not uncommon to lose a baby, but I blamed…I blamed my body. I put the poison on every day. I’ve had relatives and courtiers lose their minds, and the royal physician blamed it on hysteria.”
She stuck out the glass and Dierdre refilled it.
“Eight children,” I whispered. My hand slid unconsciously to my stomach. “And he never investigated the cause?”
Adelaide laughed. “Men who’ve never felt life quicken within them presume much about how our bodies work.” Then she looked at me, and her expression firmed. “Your parents are apothecaries. Would they consider serving as Royal Healers?”
“I believe they would be honored.”
My mother would kiss her feet for the opportunity.
