Page 31 of My Fae Lady

“Fae?” I suggested sweetly. I pulled the marriage certificate out of my reticule and waved it at him. “I did. I find Sylvan far preferable to the gentlemen of Windonbury.”

“He just threatened to eat me!”

I didn’t have to behave for my cousin. With Judge Matherson out of the room, my contempt wasn’t a liability. “That’s part of his appeal. Sylvan doesn’t lie about his nature or his goals. I’ll take rough honesty over the slick lies you and your ilk peddle any day. Declaring Father dead, Douglas, really?”

“He hasn’t been seen in over seven years.”

“He’s an immortal. A decade is a quick jaunt for him, and you know it. You didn’t have to—”

“If he isn’t going to oversee his estates—” Douglas cut off his speech with a squeak, the talons on Sylvan’s right hand suddenly pressed against his throat.

“My wife was speaking,” Sylvan told Douglas coldly, his claws digging in just enough to indent skin without breaking it. “Giselle, you were saying?”

It took me a moment to remember what I had been saying. I wanted to blame my distraction on the unusual threat of violence, but that wasn’t what had my mind spinning. Instead, all I noticed was how precise Sylvan’s control was. I should not be contemplating what he could do with those talons.

I would not.

“You already oversee the estates,” I said in a rush. “What do you want to do so badly that you can’t without declaring Father dead?”

Douglas swallowed, his eyes wide, but didn’t speak. I pressed a hand against Sylvan’s thigh, and his fingertips reverted to normal, though his hand remained at my cousin’s throat. “My wife asked a question.”

“I want the title! Otherwise, I’ll just be the heir until the day I die. Why should Uncle Percival keep the title when he doesn’t even want to move in society?”

Sylvan released him. “Then steal the ridiculous title. But it is time to forget about Rook Manor; it is beyond your reach.”

Douglas staggered back. “Oh no. I’m not forgetting this. The judge will hear about your threats. You can’t steal Rook Manor by coercing Giselle into marriage.”

Sylvan laughed. “I dare anyone to coerce Giselle into doing anything she does not wish. You’ve already lost, Cousin.”

Sylvan elbowed Douglas back across the aisle, then held out a hand toward me. I accepted it and stood, then slipped my arm through his and let him escort me out of the courtroom.

We walked past the lingering spectators, through the beige halls, and out into the sunshine. I tilted my face up, my free hand on my hat so it wouldn’t fall off as I increased the angle until the warmth bathed my face. I held the position for two breaths, then tilted my head forward again. Sylvan waited silently at my side.

Oddly, he asked no questions as I led the way down the street. We could have hailed a hansom, but I wanted to move and I suspected Sylvan needed the physical outlet.

Two blocks from the courthouse, Sylvan blew out a breath. “How badly did I blunder that?”

“What do you mean?”

“I forgot to behave like a cowardly mortal gentleman. How much did losing my temper damage your case?”

I patted his arm. “Sylvan, you did beautifully. Douglas had it coming. Will he tattle to the judge that you threatened him? Undoubtedly. But my relatives would have looked for a reason to invalidate our wedding no matter what. At least we know we can counter the argument that you coerced me into the marriage.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re not angry?”

“Oh, I’m angry that I couldn’t be the one nearly drawing blood from Douglas and calling him a lily-livered dandy. But I’m not angry with you. In fact, I do believe you deserve a reward. Why don’t we visit the premier chocolatier in the city? You may not be able to snack on any mortals, but bonbons are available.”

The corners of Sylvan’s mouth slowly turned upward. “Chocolate does sound appealing. Mortals aren’t actually all that tasty, anyway.”

Thirteen

Sylvan

⊱❀⊰

Giselle fed me well. She’d seen to my stomach during the long ride from Isthmuston to the busier streets of Windonbury too. The little jaunts into out-of-the-way places for the best salmon or fluffiest bread and creamiest butter made up for the sore neck from sleeping upright in a bouncing carriage. For a recluse who insisted on living alone in Faerie, she was quite knowledgeable about the human realm.

She was quite knowledgeable about a lot of things, actually, and she took it in stride every time I teased her for being an insufferable know-it-all. I was growing fond of the way she attempted to conceal her kindness by sniping at me while also insisting that I eat this or that treat from another favorite bakery. She hid herself behind propriety and civility, but she had an advanced sweet tooth of her own.