Page 77 of Of Masks and Fury

“I’m here a lot already, other than when they give me a different assignment,” Lexie said. “No one will be suspicious to find two of Isi’s ladies talking together.”

Mae smoothed her skirts and stiffened her spine. When she glanced between Trew and me, understanding flickered across her features. Her gaze lingered on him, taking in the way he stood close to me, the protective set of his shoulders. “I’ll do anything to help Isi.”

“Thank you.” I squeezed her hands. “Just…be careful.”

“I will.”

“Would you please fetch the rest of my ladies? I need to dress for lunch with Lord Alfred.”

An entire meal with a loathsome suitor. I hated that I had to spend any time with him.

She curtsied and slipped from the room, closing the door behind her.

“I need to return to the kitchens,” Kerralyn said. “I’ll collect the plates in the adjacent room.” She hurried into the sitting area.

“I’ll go prepare your bath, my lady,” Lexie said with a wan smile, striding into the bathing chamber.

The moment she was gone, Trew checked his ward, verifying it still worked. Then the careful distance he and I had maintained shattered. He pressed against the wall with his hands braced on either side of my head, his body pinning me in place.

“Do you have any idea how frightened I was when I heard you needed me right away?” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “I keep picturing Crestin’s knife, too close to your chest. How everyone’s watching you, waiting for you to slip and reveal something vital. Then seeing you comfort her while knowing I can’t touch you the way I ache to do?”

My pulse jumped. “Tell me more about how you want to touch me,” I croaked, leaning closer.

His eyes darkened. “I want to map every scar and every curve. I need to kiss every place you’ve been hurt until all you feel is my mouth and my hands. I think about it constantly. When I’m supposed to be standing guard, I’m imagining what sounds you’ll make when I get you alone. When you bite your lip, I’m thinking about biting it myself.”

Heat roared through me.

“We can’t,” I gasped out. “My ladies will arrive. They’ll come looking for you soon.”

His forehead dropped to mine, and I felt his restraint like a living thing between us. “Tell me I’m not the only one going mad with this.”

“You’re not. When you stand nearby during meals, all I can think about is kissing you. When you adjust your sword belt, I watch your hands and imagine them on my skin.”

He held me longer than he should, and I made no effort to back away. But the world was determined to intrude on us.

“Someone pushed my mother,” I whispered against his tunic. “All these years, I thought it was an accident, but someone murdered my mother for some horrible reason.”

His arms tightened around me. “We’ll find out who did it and why. I promise you that.”

Lexie strode into the room and cleared her throat. “Not to interrupt, but we need a strategy for Lord Alfred.”

I pulled away from Trew’s embrace. His gaze burned into mine, a silent promise.

“We should come up with our plan before the rest of your ladies arrive,” Lexie said.

Kerralyn appeared in the open door to the sitting room, the tray in her hands. She kicked the door shut and leaned back against it. “He’s already suspicious after last night.”

“Crestin was a zealot,” Trew said, his voice still husky but tightening with each word. “Alfred comes across as foppish, but I sense he’s always watching. I’d bet anything he’s as calculating as Crestin. If I was him, I’d test you throughout the meal, looking for ways to either win your hand or expose you in one way or another. If he can get you to slip and reveal something, he could use it to manipulate you into marrying him.”

My pulse quickened, and I reached out a hand to Trew, holding it. “I’ll give him nothing.”

“Not nothing,” Lexie said. “That would be suspicious. You give him carefully crafted pieces of truth. Enough to seem genuine but not enough to reveal anything that would endanger you.”

“Play the grieving sister when he mentions Addie,” Kerralyn said. “Let him think you’re exactly what you appear to be, a sheltered princess struggling to navigate dangerous times.”

“But don’t be too perfect,” Trew warned, squeezing my hand. “Let small emotions through. A flash of anger. A moment of grief. He’ll expect those.”

I nodded, my mind already racing through potential scenarios.