Page 24 of The Noldrin Witch

The duke nodded. “Give me a moment, Adelle.”

The woman returned to the coach with a huff, struggling to fit her wide skirts through the narrow door. The duke eventually stepped in to help her.

Elise did not see fit to wait. After thanking the city watch once more, she made her way into the crowd, securing the satchel to the same cord from which her dress pocket hung.

She could not help but feel a small prick in her stomach at the sight of the duke and his companion. They seemed perfectly suited to one another. Rather than dwell on it, she chose to make her way out of the crowd. She had mingled enough with the good people of Metz for one day.

She had just passed the first line of onlookers when she felt an arm catch hers.

A quiet heat rose within her at the touch, as persistent as it was inconvenient. She turned to find the duke’s handsome face close to her own. He held her with just enough strength to halt her. His lips parted as he looked into her eyes with an expectation she could not easily ignore.

Her body reacted before her mind could, and she faltered for a breath, becoming suddenly aware of herself at his closeness.

“You are in danger walking alone,” he murmured. “And with this.” Something sharpened in his gaze before he reined it in.

Elise thought to correct him, to speak of the potion and the thief. But the warmth between them caught her first. She looked down at his strong hand still holding her arm, his fingers nearly closing around it.

An instinct urged her to remain close, perhaps even to close the distance, but she was not as bold as Morgaine. She was still bound by some of Noldrin’s rules of propriety.

“I’m on my way out of Metz. I live by a clearing in the forest,” Elise said, as if to dissuade the duke from his offer.

He didn’t flinch, but as if suddenly aware of the shared warmth between them, he let go of her arm and cleared his throat.

“That would be no inconvenience.” He walked to the coach and opened the door, looking at her with an almost demanding gaze.

Murmurs and whispers rippled around, and Elise knew the attention would follow her, perhaps even beyond the city. She could no longer bring herself to refuse the invitation.

She stepped inside the carriage, fearing the kind of scrutiny that awaited her.

“So you are coming?” Adelle huffed, indignant, pressing her lips together before the duke joined them.

Kurt sat to Adelle’s side, just within arm’s reach of Elise. The road began to clear as the coach moved on, and Elise shifted in the cushioned interior, casting occasional glances at the two in front of her.

Adelle busied herself with the view the ample window afforded, while Elise gave the duke directions to Morgaine’s house. Once she had finished, he seemed to suddenly remember that no introductions had been made and that he did not have a name to call her by.

“And your name, madam?”

“I’m Elise,” she replied.

He managed a smile. “Kurt.”

“Duke of Dornheim,” Adelle grumbled. “It’s Elise alone, no surname? You must be from some exotic place, darling.”

“Elise de Varenne,” she said. Morgaine had already warned her there were De Varennes in Bromheim, but it was the only name she had the faintest association with, since using her real one would have been too revealing of her origins.

“Never heard of it,” Adelle rasped, settling back to admire the landscape once more, though not before casting a glance at Elise’s cleavage. “Quite a fashion of low necklines you’ve brought to Metz.”

Elise held her composure. Despite the added freshness the dress lent her, she was not about to let this woman pass judgment on her. She sat with her back straight and her chin high.

“It’s a personal preference,” Elise said. “I made it myself.”

Adelle huffed. “A good seamstress you are.”

“Is that what brought you to town…dressmaking?” the duke asked, looking carefully around her skirt, perhaps noting the lack of tools for such work beyond the satchel with herbs and her dress pocket at her waist.

“No. I’m an apprentice of witchcraft,” Elise remarked. She had no idea how well or poorly regarded the profession was, but since Morgaine seemed to go about without trouble, she saw no reason to keep it a secret.

“A witch!”