Page 25 of My Fae Lady

I arched a brow. “It hardly matters that your opinion differs, as no one of any importance cares about your opinion.”

Sylvan smirked, not at all put off. “No one of importance, is it? Is that your way of saying you care, cupcake?”

“I only care as much as any lady who worries that her intended is about to make an utter fool of her by association.”

“Shouldn’t that be my fear? After all, I’m the one about to marry a woman with a flock of ostriches on her head.”

“You strutted around the manor in a waistcoat festooned with feathers!”

“My feathers. There’s a difference. Besides, wasn’t it you who insisted that feathers can’t be worn in polite company?”

I looked at the empty spaces directly on either side of him. “I don’t see any polite company.”

Sylvan’s lips quirked up, and a hint of sharp teeth appeared. “But company is so much more interesting when it isn’t polite, don’t you think? You are certainly more interesting when you aren’t hobbling yourself with propriety.”

“A lady isn’t supposed to be interesting,” I said as haughtily as I could manage. It was the truth, and one of the main reasons I never spent much time in Alidra. That and the lack of magic on this side of the border.

“What a shame for ladies. And the men who are stuck with them.”

I lifted my chin. “Thankfully, we aren’t stuck. We’ll get married, surprise Douglas at the courthouse, secure Rook Manor, and part ways in no time.”

As soon as the solicitors were satisfied, Sylvan could return to his woods. We might not even journey back to Faerie together. I’d have the carriage all to myself. I could resume my experiments in Rook Manor without anyone around to interrupt me. I’d have my peace and solitude.

The prospect had never sounded more like loneliness. I looked away from the brown eyes that brightened to green toward the edges of the iris and wondered how many things would remind me of Sylvan in the coming years. Just the smell of the forest outside would do it, I feared.

But that was fine. A few memories would add interest without disrupting my life. The manor was more than enough company for me.

I kept my eyes on the floor, worried what they might be betraying. It wouldn’t do for Sylvan to think I was doubting my plan. The plan was perfect. Only what came afterward needed a few tweaks. Perhaps I could entice Caro to visit me at Rook Manor.

Caro, who was already back at the hotel, standing just inside the door watching Sylvan and me. How long had she been there? She realized I had spotted her and approached us.

“Is everything in order?” I asked. I hoped she hadn’t hesitated because she had bad news.

“Um, yes?” Her answer was less than reassuring as she studied me with an odd intensity. Then she shook her head and held out a sealed letter. “Yes. Mr. Hilferty is on his way.”

I slid a finger under the purple wax, cracking it. “How long do you think it will take him to track down a clerk willing to sign the necessary license?” I’d suggested that he do that before joining us for supper, just in case. “I don’t want to leave him waiting long, but Sylvan’s suit still hasn’t arrived.”

Before Caro could answer, I unfolded the letter. It was short and told me that my father’s old friend wasn’t stopping at the courthouse but coming directly here. I looked over at my fiancé in worry. I had counted on Mr. Hilferty’s respect for my father to secure his help, but now I’d have to deal with the fact that he considered me an honorary niece.

“What?” Sylvan asked, crossing his arms.

What if Mr. Hilferty arrived before the new clothes? “You need to go upstairs. I’ll help you get dressed as soon as the package arrives from the tailor.”

His eyes narrowed. “What’s going on, Giselle?”

“I’ll explain upstairs. Just go.” I pressed my lips together. “Please.”

Sylvan studied my face for a long moment, and I feared he would argue, but then he spun on his heel and marched to the stairs. No mincing, genteel steps for him.

“Oh dear,” Caro whispered beside me.

I looked away from Sylvan’s retreating form. “Don’t tell me Mr. Hilferty is here already.”

Caro’s eyes were wide, but she wasn’t looking in the direction of the hotel entrance, all her attention on me. Her wings quivered. “Are you certain about this, Giselle? You are about to marry Lord Sylvan of Gremyl Woods.” She said his name as though it held extra significance. Significance I didn’t understand. Not that it mattered.

“I am certain I have no other choice at this point. Father isn’t going to return from Deep Faerie in the nick of time. Douglas won’t let me stay in Rook Manor after he inherits, even if he never wants to step foot there himself. He is exactly the type of bastard to pull me from my home just because he knows I am happy there. Even if I found someone else to marry me, without the bargain, I would have no assurance they’d then leave me be afterward.”

“Do you want to be left alone?” Caro bit her lip. “From what I’ve seen, you actually like Lord Sylvan.”