“Perhaps with your employer in town, Vernon will become open to more fae influence, like some of the other cities,” she says.
“One would hope,” I mutter, glancing back at the gossiping crowd.
Footsteps sound in the hall, and our final guests enter the parlor. It takes all my restraint not to moan. Mrs. Aston enters the room, eyes wide with wonder as she takes in the furnishings. Her husband is far more stoic as he assesses his surroundings, but their third member has his gaze locked on me.
For the love of the saints. It’s Gavin Aston, the despicable man I met at the bookshop. He strides over to me with a wide grin. Before I can react, he takes my hand and plants a kiss on it. “Miss Bellefleur, it’s been too long.”
His mother approaches just behind. “I can’t believe I’m in the home of a fae. I had no idea they were so civilized. I suppose we could have brought the children after all, Edward.”
Her husband huffs. “I daresay they would not behave.”
“Oh, you’re quite right,” Mrs. Aston says, then turns to me. “It’s so good of you to have taken employment from a fae creature, although I can’t imagine why you would have. I thought for certain you were heading for matrimony, not spinsterhood.”
Gavin releases my hand and pats his mother’s shoulder. “A woman can have a mind for both matrimony and employment, Mother. This is the modern era, after all.”
Mrs. Aston attempts a smile that looks more like a grimace. “I suppose that could be true, dear.”
Gavin turns his eyes back to me. “I, for one, think it’s marvelous you’ve sought employment. I find it encouraging when a woman proves herself my equal through hard work.”
A flicker of surprise ripples through me. That was actually…intelligent. Complimentary, even. Could I have been wrong in my first impression of Gavin Aston?
“You won’t have to work once you’re married, of course,” he adds. “But I think employment is a most attractive pastime for a young lady. A way for her to gain experience of the world outside of dresses and dances.”
Just like that, my fleeting reassessment wanes. I was right the first time. Gavin Aston is a moron. “You mistake me, sir. My work is not a frivolous pastime to dally with on my way to the altar but a legitimate alternative to marriage.”
Mrs. Aston gasps. Her son, however, shakes his head with mirth. “Cleverandfunny. Miss Bellefleur, you are a prize.”
I open my mouth, my shoulders tense with rage, but am saved from doing something marvelously stupid when a domineering figure appears in the doorway. My breath catches, draining both the rage and blood from my face.
It’s Elliot.
The footman stands at his side and announces him. “Mr. Elliot Rochester.”
The parlor falls into silence as Elliot takes a few slow steps into the room. His pace makes him seem confident and calculated, his limp barely distinguishable as he walks with his prosthetic. His hair has been combed in a neat, modern style. His dark green suit and gold waistcoat are impeccable, setting him apart from the black and white the men wear and giving the distinction that this creature is fae. The cut of his jacket accentuates his broad shoulders while his slim trousers reveal the musculature of his thighs.
“Good afternoon,” he says, his voice low and deep, yet far gentler than I’ve ever heard it. His gaze slides over his rapt audience, then locks on me.
My heart hammers against my ribs beneath that stare. It’s enough to empty all thoughts from my mind, making me forget why I started this night angry at him. Although, clearly he still hasn’t mastered his lesson about not staring—Oh!Remembering my duties, I shake my head and rush to his side. “Mr. Rochester, please meet your gracious hostess, Miss Imogen Coleman.”
Imogen’s eyes are wide, nearly glittering with stars of smitten attraction as she approaches Elliot and dips into a curtsy. “Mr. Rochester, thank you for trusting me with inviting tonight’s dinner guests. I am so pleased to be of service to you.”
For a few tense moments, Elliot does nothing but stare at Imogen, his expression unreadable. Then his lips twitch. Once. Twice. Finally, they pull into a modest smile. His words come out smooth and practiced. “Thank you for being so generous in helping me host my first dinner with Vernon’s prime residents.”
Imogen beams, then stands at his side, all but pushing me away to take my place next to him. “Allow me to introduce my mother, Mrs. Maddie Coleman, and my sister, Miss Clara Coleman.” The two curtsy, then Imogen introduces the rest of the guests, leaving Ember for last. “And this is my stepsister, Miss Ember Montgomery.”
I’m taken aback that Ember has a different surname from the rest of her family until I remember something Imogen once told me. Mrs. Maddie Coleman is thrice a widow, and after the death of her last husband—who I assume was Ember’s father—she and her daughters reverted to Maddie’s maiden name. It makes sense that Ember wouldn’t have followed suit.
Ember curtsies, keeping her eyes downcast, her face passive, and quickly moves to the side.
Imogen turns to face Elliot. “Shall we continue to dinner?”
His gaze flicks to me, and I give a subtle nod, hoping my eyes convey what I wish I could say.Offer her your arm!If he read my instructions, he should know it is now time to escort Imogen to the dining room.
To my relief, he holds out a stiff arm, bent at the elbow. “Allow me to escort you, Miss Coleman.”
Fluttering her lashes, she places her hand in the crook of his elbow, then looks at the other guests expectantly.
As they begin to pair up, I’m horrified to find Gavin heading straight for me. “May I?” he asks, arm extended.
