Page 28 of My Fae Lady

My house. My house was on the line.

Mr. Hilferty had said something to me then, but I’d missed it. Giselle pulled off her gloves one finger at a time, revealing those slender digits of hers which had combed through my hair what felt like ages ago . . . fingers she’d used to help me heal, to clean me and soothe me and feed me . . . Her skin was golden and without a mark, smooth as glass and dewy soft, and I had the most uncanny urge to reach for her again. Those were the hands of the woman who had pulled me from my tomb.

“Sylvan, dear,” Giselle said, her tone concerned.

I snapped back to reality as she tucked her gloves under the cloth napkin on her lap. Finally, I claimed the seat beside her and quickly cleared my throat. “You were saying?”

“Charmed to meet you,” Mr. Hilferty said, though he didn’t sound the slightest bit sincere. His eyes, which were the smallest, tightest feature on his face, narrowed further at Giselle. “Unseelie?” The word was packed with concern. Out of habit, I ran a tongue over the sharper points of my teeth.

Giselle lowered her lashes, but not before the lavender hue in her gaze had turned to nervous amber. “Well, yes, but . . .” she floundered. Whatever practiced response she’d had in mind shriveled up under his bird-like stare.

“Only half,” I interjected. It wasn’t entirely a lie. Before there was Seelie and Unseelie, there was only Fae. I was just old enough that both bloodlines flowed through my veins to some extent. Half was certainly a bold exaggeration, though.

His gaze flitted over me, hovering for a moment above my shoulders. My lack of wings helped my case. The notion brought out the old ache at my shoulder blades. My mouth went entirely dry. I’d never had a reason to be grateful my wings were taken from me before, and frankly, I didn’t like that turn of events one bit. It put a hollowness in the center of me.

His tongue poked at the inside of his cheek a moment before he sniffed at me. “Hm.”

A warm creamy soup was served first. Giselle had reminded me during her quick etiquette lesson while she dressed me that it wasn’t polite to discuss business during the first course. I let the soup warm up my stomach as intended, careful that I didn’t slurp from the spoon.

I didn’t realize not discussing business meant that the three of us would sit in abject silence, sipping our half-full spoons. Thankfully, it was also polite to only eat most of the soup and not all of the dull mixture.

Roasted quail was brought out next. There were far too many utensils for me to determine which one to select. I did my best.

“Oh, you’re right, darling,” Giselle said, snatching the small fork out of my hand. “That one does have a spot on it.” She crooked her finger at the staff, and a server came running to take the perfectly clean item from her. Subtly, she picked up the correct utensil and slid it into my palm.

“It concerns me that you’re demanding such a quick end to your engagement,” Mr. Hilferty said at last.

“Time is of the utmost importance to us both,” Giselle said.

The former magistrate’s small eyes drifted down toward her stomach.

“No,” Giselle rasped. Her cheeks flushed. “I’m not with child.”

Mr. Hilferty let out a relieved sigh. “Then what is the urgency?”

“My cousin is up to no good. If I don’t act quickly, he’ll have everything and I’ll be homeless. Could you imagine? The daughter of a duke, destitute? Furthermore,” she said, placing her hand over mine on the table, “my marriage to Lord Sylvan is quite inevitable anyway, even if we would have preferred a proper engagement. We belong together.”

An uncomfortable flutter tightened my stomach.

“I see,” he said stiffly, frowning at our joined hands.

Her skin was warm, and the pressure over my knuckles was just right.

“The lesser courthouse closed hours ago,” Mr. Hilferty said.

Only the smallest twitch in her cheek gave away her worry. “But that shouldn’t be a problem for a man of your influence, former mayor.”

“It’s not.” Leaning back in his chair, he crossed one leg languidly over the other. The corner of his lip curled. “I’ve convinced Magistrate McCall to see to your request tonight, so long as I am present to sign as witness.”

“You’re willing, then?” Giselle said, scooting so far to the edge of her seat that she nearly knocked her napkin off her lap. I caught it for her and righted it.

“I’m not . . . unwilling.” He aimed his words in my direction, and his blond brows rose toward his hairline.

“What else do you need to know? It’s not as though we have all the time in the world to debate this,” Giselle said. Then a voice called her name behind her and she twisted in her chair. “Oh, there’s Caro now. She’ll ride with us to the courthouse. We really shouldn’t leave the magistrate waiting! I’ll be right back.”

In her absence, I poked at my quail with the tines of my fork, feeling the full force of Mr. Hilferty’s bird-like eyes peering into me.

“What is it you gain from this arrangement?” he demanded.