“So Cosette is in love with Monty?”
“Yes, and…” His jaw shifts side to side before he continues. “I admit, Cosette and Monty once courted. While she clings to her feelings for him, he has no serious interest in her. He will never marry her and has told her time and time again. I assure you, it’s true. But because of her feelings, I anticipate she may try to come between the two of you.”
My guilt abates. At least I know my actions aren’t compromising a true love match. I resume climbing the stairs and this time Thorne keeps pace with me.
“I won’t let her interfere,” he says. “I will keep my part of the bargain and do what I can to ensure your wedding commences as planned.” That same bitter note I heard when he introduced me to his butler as Monty’s fiancée returns, sharpening the edges of his words.
Perhaps we could use a change of subject, but there’s only one other thing at the top of my mind. I keep my tone casual as I say, “Miss Phillips seems like a lively girl. The two of you are very close.”
“I said as much.”
“Yes, but…” I bite the inside of my cheek. His relationship with her is none of my business, but for whatever reason, I’m desperate to know if they are romantically involved. I’d like to say it’s my burning curiosity, but there’s something darker lurking in my interest. A simmering anxiety.
“She’s like a sister to me,” he says, answering my unspoken question. “She’s the same age my youngest sister would be now if she were awake. When I befriended Monty—at the behest of our fathers—I befriended Angela too. We’ve been as close as siblings ever since. She considers me a second brother as well.”
Relief uncoils inside me and that dark feeling dissipates. We reach the top of the stairs where Minka grooms her lower belly, one leg stretched toward the sky. She freezes mid-lick and shifts into a more refined posture. The second floor is lined in plush ivory carpet, and I’m once again sorry for my sodden state, cringing at every drip my skirt makes. Thorne’s taunt about forcing me to undress before coming upstairs seems somewhat practical now. He guides us away from the stairs and down a hall lined with tall windows on one side and mahogany doors on the other. We stop at the second to the last door. “This is the second-largest suite in the manor. You have a private bath, a separate bedroom, and a full living space. My suite is at the end of the hall.”
I glance at the last door, a mere dozen feet from mine.
“Take your time getting ready,” he says, hands in his pockets. His posture has grown slightly tense. Perhaps he too has realized our sleeping quarters are side by side. “I’ll keep Monty at bay and send word for you as soon as I know when and where we are to commence this game of his.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll leave you to it.” He proceeds down the hall toward his own room. I’m about to turn the handle and enter my suite when he pauses halfway toward his door.
“It was a nice sound,” he says, back facing me.
I blink a few times. “What was?”
“Your laughter.” He glances at me over his shoulder. The light from the windows catches on his lenses and obscures his eyes. “I hope after all of this is done, you can do that more.”
28
BRIONY
Three hours later, I stand before the closed doors to the parlor, gathering my nerve to enter. Mr. Boris pauses with his fingertips on the handle, awaiting word that I’m ready. I can at least say with some confidence that I meet Monty’sdress pretty for meterms. I’m in the indigo spider silk gown Thorne suggested. Well,suggestedmight be too generous of a word, but he said he liked it, so I had to assume it would do for tonight’s game. It hugs my curves perfectly, the low V-shaped neck revealing just the right amount of cleavage to keep it in the realm of human fashion. The back dips low too, then gathers at my waist in flowing pleats. The way the skirt rounds my hips before flaring out above the knees creates a pleasing hourglass effect on my figure.
Minka arranged my golden-blonde tresses to perfection—while she was in seelie form, of course, for she quickly learned paws had no place in hairstyling. The top half of my hair is piled on top of my head in dainty curls while the bottom half cascades over my shoulder. Human propriety favors full updos for formal occasions, but Minka insisted I try the style. Once I looked in the mirror, I couldn’t resist keeping it.
But now every inch of me stands to be judged by my future husband. And whoever else might be in the room. This isn’t at all how I wanted my debut in society—however private—to go.
It’s for my family, I remind myself.I have a bargain to fulfill. A curse to break. A throne to save before Nyxia’s promised time is up and my sleeping family is taken to the catacombs.
The reminder serves to harden my heart and steel my resolve all over again.
Mr. Boris arches a russet brow, fingers flinching on the door handle. “Highness?”
I inhale a deep breath, then force a well-practiced smile on my lips. “I’m ready.”
Mr. Boris opens the door, and we stride inside.
The parlor is a large yet cozy space, with dark wood floors, several seating areas, and a pianoforte. The curtained windows reveal a setting sun, dipping behind the towering hills. Two girls sit on a couch facing away from me, their heads close together as they exchange animated conversation. One I recognize as Angela Phillips, which means the other must be the infamous Cosette Dervins. I can’t see her well from here, but she appears to be tall, pretty, and slim with black hair and an enviably long neck. I assess the other side of the room. A fire roars in the hearth, before which Thorne sits, reading his papers in his usual manner. Upon my entrance, he lowers his broadsheets and begins to fold them, expression impassive.
Then his eyes lock on mine.
He freezes mid-fold, and his face goes slack. Behind his spectacles, he blinks once. Twice. Then he sweeps his gaze down the length of me. My breath catches at his assessment, my skin heating under the weight of his stare. As his eyes reach mine once more, his lips flick in the slightest hint of a smile. A soft one. A desirous one. An arrogant joy brightens in my chest as there’s no doubtIput that smile on his lips. Or the dress did. Whatever the case, I feel like I’ve won a round ofwho can make the other flusteredat last.
I lower my eyelids slightly, shifting my grin into a sly one, so he can see that Iknow. That I’m fully aware of my victory.
