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Rubbing at the runestone, I became aware of several eyes on me. Derrick’s hand was on my shoulder, though he at least wasn’t looking at me. He was staring at his grandfather, and there was a clear warning in his voice as he told Lord Malcolm that I was his personal guest this week.
“She’s here helping Delilah with the wedding,” Derrick said.
“Yes, so I heard,” Malcolm’s blue gaze settled on my face, and I suppressed another shiver. “A little early for marital counseling, don’t you think?”
“On the contrary, when two lives are about to be cemented together in oaths as sacred as marriage, pre-marital counseling is highly suggested,” I said, the words automatic as I tore my attention away from Derrick’s mother.
Lord Malcolm had a blunt face, strong and handsome despite his age, and his smile was a cold thing. “And how many marriages end in divorce these days?”
“A few,” I said. “And when those oaths are broken or rescinded, they leave a lasting impact on the Bright creatures involved, up to and including a loss of magic.”
This made our little company of unfamiliar faces go quite still. Only Derrick smirked, and that was still aimed at his grandfather. It was to be expected, nobody ever spoke of what happened when Bright creatures divorced, not in public.
Oaths were sacred to the Bright. To break one’s binding word diminished not their honor, but their very being. Some lost their magic entirely. The purer a Bright’s blood, the more pronounced the repercussions would be for breaking an oath.
“So you must understand the importance that Miss Delilah Leslie and Mr. Brock Norton be of an equal and clear understanding before they approach the altar on Saturday,” I said, glancing at the circle of men surrounding us.
All eyes turned to Lord Malcolm, whose narrowed gaze was fixed on me. I tried for a smile, but it felt wobbly on my face, so I looked to Derrick, praying the man had a plan.
“Speaking of,” Derrick said, his smile turning sharp, “I believe it’s time you met the groom, don’t you?”
I smiled at Derrick, more than pleased to leave his grandfather’s company. “I think that would be wise.”
He gripped the handles of his mother’s wheelchair and with a final nod at Lord Malcolm, we turned away, making a steady retreat from the beach.
Chapter Twelve
Derrick led us away from the lake and down a small dirt path that was in no way meant for a wheelchair. The thing rattled and jostled over every little pebble, its inhabitant tossed against the armrests with less than gentle care. Her baby blue blanket remained tucked around her legs and I couldn’t help marveling at this small miracle, but Derrick’s mother remained unresponsive and unaware of her surroundings.
Seeing her was so much worse than merely knowing what happened. Her hands were folded in her lap, a loose knot of boney knuckles and thin fingers that looked far too old for the woman. She might have been in her fifties. Her neatly groomed blonde hair had barely begun to grey and her features, gaunt as they were, had not aged far. She was cracked pottery, ready to crumble under the slightest pressure, and my breath hitched at the sight of her.
“Are you all right?” I asked Derrick.
It was a stupid question. Of course, he wasn’t all right. I didn’t need my empathic abilities to know that.
Maker help me, I wished I could break his grandfather’s nose!
Derrick’s grip on the handlebars loosened a fraction. I could see blood returning to his knuckles once more, and he took a deep breath before slanting a smirk down at me. “You’re being remarkably kind to me now. Decided it was time to forgive me?”
I huffed a laugh. It was not an answer, but if avoidance helped him cope, I was not going to be the one to break that. “I suppose your story has been corroborated. And Nana Bess did say she was spending the down payment for my services already, so I’ve lost the self-righteous position.”
“You wound me, Miss Grayson,” he said with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. “My word shouldn’t need to be corroborated.”
“Agree to disagree.”
We walked in silence for a moment before he sighed, slowing his feet. In the distance were voices and I could see where the path led to a wide, open field. Several people were milling through the space, and a pair of men tossed a football between them near the center of the field. Picnic blankets were spread out at the edges, with more sun-umbrella’s peppering the view with oranges and pinks like massive, frilly flowers.
It was disorienting to go from somber to cheerful in the space of two steps and I had to remind myself that behind the façade of this wedding were true dangers. Not every blithe smile and pleasant wave sent between party goers was true. There were warlock traffickers nearby who would happily kill me for my finger or toe.
The chilling thought had me speculating on a cluster of elegantly dressed women as they arranged their picnic blanket. They were all dressed well, in a mishmash of human dresses and what could only be described as Gothic leather corsets and frilly lace blouses. One woman even had a bodice that cinched her waist to a needle-fine point, and I had to imagine this was yet another tradition from Fairy that Bess and Martin hadn’t taught me. We always shopped cheap or, in recent years, bought everything online and had it delivered.
Most of the outfits I was seeing looked like they’d come out of one of those reenactment societies or renaissance fairs.
I was so engrossed in my surveyance of the group that I hadn’t noticed Derrick step closer. He bent down and I flushed crimson, my heart thundering as his mouth neared my ear. Maker help me, I needed to get a hold on that.
“Brock is going to be predictable and order me to play,” Derrick whispered.
I glimpsed at the field again, realizing at last that there were two clusters of people on either end of the grassy space. American football was nothing new, but I had not personally witnessed a game before, especially not one conducted by Bright creatures. Several wives complained in my study about their husbands being engaged in all manner of shenanigans regarding the sport. For their part, the husbands insisted it was the best thing to come from the human world since rugby and they wished their wives could be more understanding of the pastime.
