the light behind him warmed to pearl. After a moment he
set the claret back upon the secrétaire with a snap, untouched, and
moved to the four-poster, tugging at his jabot until it fell into folds.
“Where are you staying?” he
asked, his eyes averted again.
She only watched him. He shrugged
out of the waistcoat, tossing it over a chair. The lawn of his shirt stretched
taut over his shoulders as he moved; his braid ended in a silken fan down his
back. He perched upon the edge of the bed and kicked off his fine buckled
shoes, one at a time.
“Actually…”
“Not a chance, my heart.”
Lia rose from the desk with as
much dignity as she could muster. “I am posing as your wife. It would be most bourgeois to share the same room with you.” She swept to the bed for her things and then
to the connecting door, oak-framed, modest amid all the glory of the rest of
the chamber. The key was at the very bottom of her reticule.
“Lia,” Zane said softly, a
perfect echo of her dreams. She glanced back. He had stretched out atop the
covers, propped against the pillows, his fingers laced over the flat of his
stomach and his ankles crossed. With his plait and the loosened shirt, he looked
like nothing so much as a corsair, tanned and rough and perilously unknown. She
was granted half a smile.
“How did you know which
hotel I’d be in?”
“King’s View is by far the best
in the city. It wasn’t hard to conjecture.”
“And the room?” he asked, softer
still.
“I paid the clerk to put you
here,” she lied. “Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t figure that out.”
His smile never changed. Lia
busied herself with unlocking the door.
“Think twice about refusing my
help,” she said, to cover his silence. “No matter what else you think of me, I
do know how to get to the diamond. Since I’m not returning to Darkfrith without
it, you need to consider the very real possibility that I will reach it before
you do. Do you truly think you’ll get any reward from my people without handing
them Draumr yourself?”
She closed the door quickly
behind her, before he could ask her anything else.
Then she locked it again.
She’d
already ensured that he wouldn’t have a key.
“Lia.”
“Yes?”
“Come to me.”
“Yes, Zane.” His arms around her.
His lips upon her cheek. “Tell me of tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow the Duchess of Monfield
will wear a brooch of pink rubies shaped as a rose on her kerchief. She’ll be
alone in her garden picking lavender at ten.”
“Very tempting. But perhaps we
might leave the duchess be for the moment. I want to know, my heart, about your
kin.”
“They’re
in the hills. They’re making plans.”
“What
plans?”
“Plans to kill you. Plans to
steal me. They’ll amass three days hence. It will be raining. No one will
glimpse them in the sky.”
His breath drew into a sigh. She
shifted in his arms; the diamond on the cord around his neck was a dark endless
poem, a song that never ceased. His voice was an echo of it, low and unbearably
sweet. “What to do,” he murmured. “What to do…”
“Use Draumr, ” Lia said to him.
“They’ll hunt two by two. Set them to fight one another when they come. The
papers will report it as footpads. No one need know the truth.”
“Hmmm.” She felt his lips again,
a caress, slow and silken along her throat. “Clever girl. You’ re full of plans
yourself, aren’t you?”
“I am full of you,” she replied
truthfully, and was rewarded with the pleasure of his kiss upon her mouth.
She came awake in a square of
sunlight, hard and bright against her lids. For a moment Lia only blinked
against it, her arms flung out, her fingers clenched in linen and the puffy
down of the coverlet. The air smelled of feathers and river; she inhaled again and
remembered where she was. And why.
She sat up in the bed, warm and
tired and gritty-eyed, not even noticing the man seated by the door until he
leaned forward in his chair, a slim
set the claret back upon the secrétaire with a snap, untouched, and
moved to the four-poster, tugging at his jabot until it fell into folds.
“Where are you staying?” he
asked, his eyes averted again.
She only watched him. He shrugged
out of the waistcoat, tossing it over a chair. The lawn of his shirt stretched
taut over his shoulders as he moved; his braid ended in a silken fan down his
back. He perched upon the edge of the bed and kicked off his fine buckled
shoes, one at a time.
“Actually…”
“Not a chance, my heart.”
Lia rose from the desk with as
much dignity as she could muster. “I am posing as your wife. It would be most bourgeois to share the same room with you.” She swept to the bed for her things and then
to the connecting door, oak-framed, modest amid all the glory of the rest of
the chamber. The key was at the very bottom of her reticule.
“Lia,” Zane said softly, a
perfect echo of her dreams. She glanced back. He had stretched out atop the
covers, propped against the pillows, his fingers laced over the flat of his
stomach and his ankles crossed. With his plait and the loosened shirt, he looked
like nothing so much as a corsair, tanned and rough and perilously unknown. She
was granted half a smile.
“How did you know which
hotel I’d be in?”
“King’s View is by far the best
in the city. It wasn’t hard to conjecture.”
“And the room?” he asked, softer
still.
“I paid the clerk to put you
here,” she lied. “Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t figure that out.”
His smile never changed. Lia
busied herself with unlocking the door.
“Think twice about refusing my
help,” she said, to cover his silence. “No matter what else you think of me, I
do know how to get to the diamond. Since I’m not returning to Darkfrith without
it, you need to consider the very real possibility that I will reach it before
you do. Do you truly think you’ll get any reward from my people without handing
them Draumr yourself?”
She closed the door quickly
behind her, before he could ask her anything else.
Then she locked it again.
She’d
already ensured that he wouldn’t have a key.
“Lia.”
“Yes?”
“Come to me.”
“Yes, Zane.” His arms around her.
His lips upon her cheek. “Tell me of tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow the Duchess of Monfield
will wear a brooch of pink rubies shaped as a rose on her kerchief. She’ll be
alone in her garden picking lavender at ten.”
“Very tempting. But perhaps we
might leave the duchess be for the moment. I want to know, my heart, about your
kin.”
“They’re
in the hills. They’re making plans.”
“What
plans?”
“Plans to kill you. Plans to
steal me. They’ll amass three days hence. It will be raining. No one will
glimpse them in the sky.”
His breath drew into a sigh. She
shifted in his arms; the diamond on the cord around his neck was a dark endless
poem, a song that never ceased. His voice was an echo of it, low and unbearably
sweet. “What to do,” he murmured. “What to do…”
“Use Draumr, ” Lia said to him.
“They’ll hunt two by two. Set them to fight one another when they come. The
papers will report it as footpads. No one need know the truth.”
“Hmmm.” She felt his lips again,
a caress, slow and silken along her throat. “Clever girl. You’ re full of plans
yourself, aren’t you?”
“I am full of you,” she replied
truthfully, and was rewarded with the pleasure of his kiss upon her mouth.
She came awake in a square of
sunlight, hard and bright against her lids. For a moment Lia only blinked
against it, her arms flung out, her fingers clenched in linen and the puffy
down of the coverlet. The air smelled of feathers and river; she inhaled again and
remembered where she was. And why.
She sat up in the bed, warm and
tired and gritty-eyed, not even noticing the man seated by the door until he
leaned forward in his chair, a slim
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