“Eleanor? Dear, are you joining us for breakfast?”
The voice made her sit up with a startle. Her head was swimming, a dull ache forming behind her eye, the result of the previous evening’s tears. She had nearly cried herself sick before pulling herself together and returning to the ballroom.You’re not doing this for you.
She’d made plans with the orc lord to go riding after breakfast, Master Bow swooping in with the excellent news that he would hunt down a riding habit for her to borrow. After tea, she was meant to row on the lake with the rabbit-eared lordling whom she’d mentally dubbed Lord Hops-a-lot, a moniker she was certain he’d not appreciate. First though, was breakfast on the verandah with the countess and the other guests, to which she’d enthusiastically agreed . . . not remembering that normal people had breakfast at an ungodly early hour.
“Eleanor?” It was Penelope, her sweet, bookish neighbor.
“Yes,” she croaked. I-I’m just finishing dressing. I’ll be along in a moment.”
Trilby came bustling in then, pulling back the covers. “I didn’t think you were getting up today, miss. Sleeping like a stone, you were.”
By the time she made it out on the verandah, the sun was high and blinding. Her head ached. She had no idea how people did this each day. It certainly couldn’t have been healthy. She’d feel her retinas searing in the morning light, wondering why they couldn’t simply move breakfast to a more respectable time, say, half two.
“I’m looking forward to riding with you this morning, my lady.” The orc lord was upright and formal. A stiff upper lip, her grandmother would have said. “I have a rather impressive stable back home, so if riding is one of your passions, you’ll be well-provisioned.”
She was positive she had mentioned to this lord the previous evening that she had not been on a horse in some time, so it was hardly appropriate to assume that riding was one of her passions. “Are you a fan of music, my lord?”
“I can’t say that I am, no. After a long day overseeing my land and men, I prefer a quiet house in the evenings before retiring.”
He would be a perfect match. After all, according to Silas, you dress like an 80-year-old woman, and he behaves like an 80-year-old man.
The sun was worse once they set out on the horses. Her head was throbbing, the pain behind her eye all-encompassing, and with each bounce against the saddle, it seemed to lance into her brain. The pain became so severe at one point she was certain she was going to fall and required the orc lord’s assistance in keeping her seat on the return trip. Eleanor could tell she had not impressed him, but at the moment, she didn’t care.A silent home and a bridegroom that smells like his horse groom. You’ll do better with Lord Hops-a-lot.
She was meeting him at the lake, and once she had changed into one of the lovely day dresses Maris Stride had provided, Eleanor set off, shaded beneath her parasol. She was early and decided to take advantage of the shade beneath the tree not far from the lake. Sitting in the grass, she decided her headache might go away if she rested for a bit. Now it was dusk. The sun was puddling into a smear of crimson at the horizon over the water, above a wash of indigo, and a stripe of apricot above the bleeding sun. She had missed rowing. She had missed rowing and whatever other activities were planned for the early evening.
The only consolation, small as it was, was that her headache was gone. The grounds seemed deserted, and she realized everyone was likely already in their rooms, dressing for dinner.And here you are, just waking for the night.
She knew exactly which building he would’ve chosen to make his perch. She’d taken note of it while they were riding. It was set back, well behind the lake, nearing the cliffs. She thought it must’ve been a lookout at one point, but it would’ve served his purpose admirably. The nearby forest was far enough to prevent any shade from touching the rooftop of the structure, and it was far enough away from the main house for him to sleep peacefully.
She couldn’t explain why her feet carried her down the hill, past the lake where she was meant to row with the other lord, down the pathway that took her through the sculpture garden and around the hedge maze, skirting on the side of the forest, until she approached the stone edifice.If you’re wrong,she thought, eyeing the circular staircase warily, once she had forced the door open,you are going to get stuck, and no one will find you.Fortunately, for the first time that day, luck was on her side. The inner doorway pushed open easier, and then she was on the roof, standing before him.
“The itinerary is nearly all daytime events,” she told him, seating herself on his knee. “There’s dinner and dancing every night, of course, but after that . . . Well, we’re either supposed to retire to our beds like good little septons or else we’re meant to be wanton, I suppose. It doesn’t seem fair. Some of the couples played croquet together today. It’s a beautiful lake for rowing; that’s what I was supposed to do this afternoon. I went riding this morning with Lord Gorthund. He’s a fine rider, and he seems very . . . well, he seems very orc-like. I heard more about horses than I ever cared to. He’s pleasant enough, I suppose. If I had to marry him, I could make myself be happy, eventually, but he was not impressed with my riding skills, so I’m sure that’s no longer an option. But then, after riding, my head ached, and I was so tired, so I went to sit under a tree to rest. I fell asleep, and I missed rowing. We had to be up so bloody early this morning for breakfast, and the sun hurts my eyes. I’m supposed to be back in the room getting ready for dinner right now because it’s already that late, and I’m only just wandering back from my tree. How am I supposed to live in the daytime world, Silas? Things are so much prettier at night.”
She wasn’t sure when she had begun to cry, but it all seems so futile and hopeless. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now. You ruined me, Silas. How am I supposed to go back to a life in the sun? How am I supposed to make myself be happy?”
She shuddered when his fingertips brushed the loose tendrils of her hair away from her face. “It’s alright, little moth. The moon is lovelier than the sun, and you deserve only lovely things.” He had been hard and unyielding when she arrived on the rooftop, but now he was warm and alive beneath her, his lips hot against hers. Despite her anger and hurt, she did not pull away. She loved him, and denying it was pointless.
“Would you like to join me this evening after dinner, Miss Eastwick, to row on the lake?”
The sob that broke from her was embarrassingly noisy. His arms were steady around her, his scent warm and familiar, and at the horizon, the sun had disappeared.
“I would like that very much, Lord Stride.”
Silas
Whenhewasanadolescent, he and his brother had had a great row over whether or not he could go sailing for the night. The sea had been rough, and all evening long, great white caps had slammed into the base of the cliffs, inky black and angry. It was a dangerous sea, not one that anyone had any business traversing, not that night. But his brother was going out, and he couldn’t understand why he could not go as well.
“It’s too dangerous for you, you can’t even swim. Besides, you don’t need to know how to traverse water like this. I do.” Cadmus had always been the rational one. He favored their father, both in looks and temperament, while Silas and Maris looked like their mother. Silas had inherited her capriciousness as well, their father had been known to mutter.
“You can’t tell me what to do. If I say I want to go out on the boat with you, I’m going to. There’s no reason I can’t do anything that you’re able to —“
“Stop acting like a child, for once in your life!” His brother’s voice was hard like steel, sharp and thunderous. “You’re going to be the Marquis, Silas. You need to start acting like it. I get to go, because my life isn’t worth anything. Yours is. You don’t get to have it both ways, Silas. You don’t get to have everything you want. So either grow up and start acting like a man and get the respect you deserve, or keep acting like a child forever.”
It was a completely different situation, but he had the feeling his brother wouldn’t see it that way. He was still acting like a child. Was still trying to have it both ways. He thought he could have everything he wanted, and in the process he had lost her, the only thing that mattered.
He had no idea what the building had been used for originally. Rounded walls on one side, buttresses on the other, and arched windows of winking clear glass. It did not appear to be a chapel, nor was it a military installation. Regardless, it was far enough from the main house to serve his purposes.
His heart was heavy when he’d ascended the roof at dawn. The sight of her dancing with the other monstrous men in attendance had been a lance to his heart, not as stony as he had originally thought it to be, but nothing could have prepared him for her words, for her bitter hurt and anger, and the part — her tears, and knowledge that he was the reason. She was going horseback riding that day, from the sound of it. Horseback riding and rowing and croquet and whatever other frivolous nonsense they did in the sunshine. Most importantly, Silas thought despondently, she would be doing it without him.
