His eyes take on a distant look. “I can’t imagine anyone disliking the snow. The smell of it, the feel of it. The almost imperceptible sound it makes as it falls. The feel of it crunching beneath my paws.” He looks down at our shoes, brow wrinkled. “Or feet, I suppose.”
“I can admire snow’s finer qualities,” I say, pulling my cloak close to my body. “I’m even getting used to the cold a little. Sometimes it feels cozy to be so bundled outdoors.”
He meets my gaze with trepidation in his eyes. “But you’ll never like this climate as much as a warmer one, will you? That’s why you want to move back to Isola.”
I don’t know if I’m imagining the sadness in his tone, but I hate what it does to my heart. It hammers in response to the idea that Elliot could be unhappy with the thought of me moving.It can’t be that,I tell myself, forcing my heart to calm. He’s the King of the Winter Court. If he’s upset with my preference for Isola, it’s because he has a vested interest in this snowy land. He’d be upset ifanyonefound the Winter Court less favorable than anywhere else.
Still, when I open my mouth, I don’t know what to say. I find that we’ve stopped near the front of the manor and are now facing each other. When did that happen?
Elliot takes a step closer, shifting his stance with his staff. His brows knit together. “Do you think you could ever be happy here in Winter?”
My heart causes a ruckus yet again, warring with my mind to form an answer. Our eyes lock, and I take in the deep ruby hue of his irises. I can almost see his question swimming in them, but am I imagining the significance attached to it?
The sound of horse hooves saves me from delving further, and we turn to face the drive. At the far end is a black coach coming this way.
Panic and realization strike me at once. “Get inside. Now! Hurry!” I rush to the front doors of the manor, hoping they aren’t locked, and Elliot follows quickly behind. Luckily, the doors open with ease and I slam them shut behind the king.
“What’s going on, Gemma? Who do you think is in the coach?”
I can’t know for certain, but it isn’t hard to guess. “We aren’t the only ones advancing our schemes. Now go get dressed at once.”
26
Ionly have a few seconds to spread word through the manor that a guest has arrived. The residents are quick to comprehend what this means and what’s expected of them. Just as the coach pulls in front of the manor, I catch my reflection in the hall mirror, finding my cheeks flushed and my hair in disarray. I tuck the errant strands beneath my hat and take a few deep breaths. Then, with all the composure I can gather, I step calmly out the front doors and down the stairs to the drive.
A well-dressed footman opens the carriage door and offers its occupant his hand. Just like I’d suspected, Imogen steps out of the coach, all smiles and grace. Who I hadn’t expected to see, however, is Ember. Imogen strides toward me, and the bonnet-clad girl follows just behind.
“Dearest Gemma,” Imogen says. “I do hope you aren’t too busy working today. I simply had to call upon you for a visit.”
Seeing her false, smiling face sends waves of anger through me as her words from last night’s dinner echo through my mind. Mirroring her expression, I squint my eyes and stretch my lips into an exaggerated smile. “I can always make time for you, my dear Imogen. And Ember, it’s lovely to see you again.”
Imogen doesn’t give Ember a chance to respond to my greeting. “Your employer doesn’t mind me calling on you here, does he?”
“Of course not,” I say. “Since I take room and board here, he knows to expect visits and allows me plenty of leisure time.”
“Oh, how good of him! But he’s not around, of course.” She does a poor job of pretending she isn’t looking over my head and around me before returning her eyes to mine with a look of disappointment. “Surely, he’s too important and busy to be present.”
“No, he’s present,” I say, watching as her expression regains its glow. “We may even cross his path.”
“How wonderful! Shall you invite us inside then?”
I hesitate. While I asked several fae to tidy up the parlor and main hall, I’m not certain they’ve had enough time to do a thorough job. I haven’t seen the state of the parlor after last night’s dinner. “I had actually just come out for fresh air when you arrived. Why don’t we linger out here a few minutes more?”
“Very well.” Her expression falters for a moment before she replaces her false smile. “Oh, dearest Gemma, I did want to apologize if I had you flustered last night. You must know I had no intention of doing so.”
It takes all my restraint not to turn my smile into a snarl. “No, of course you didn’t.”
She takes a step closer, lowering her voice. “I only wanted to help you, you know. As your dear friend, I want what’s best for you. I was simply drawing attention to something I felt needed a little more awareness on your part.”
This time, I can’t stop my smile from melting from my lips. “How good of you.”
Imogen doesn’t seem to notice. “I’m so glad you understand. You know I will always be an honest friend, even if it sometimes hurts.”
My fingers curl into fists, jaw clenched.I know something I’d like to make hurt…
The sound of the front doors opening distracts me from my violent thoughts, and the three of us turn to face the manor. Back in his prosthetic and dressed in one of his sharp suits, Elliot emerges from the doorway and pauses at the top of the steps. A look of uncertainty clouds his face before he says, “Good day.”
“Oh, Mr. Rochester!” Imogen says with a gasp before dipping into a curtsy. “I had no idea I’d be graced with your presence today. I came to visit my dearest friend.”
