“Please don’t.”
“I can’t help it. She’s my family. I have to take care of her. The Trusted Few have called.”
“She better be here when he wakes up tomorrow,” he growled.
“We shall see,” she breathed.
“Young love,” he said with a laugh that sounded forced, even to his own ears.
“I don’t remember what that’s like,” Milly whispered.
Ronald did. He turned to pull Milly to him, but she was gone.
Nine
Cecelia closed the door and leaned heavily against it. She raised a hand to her lips and smiled. No one had ever told her that kissing in the garden could leave a person with aching lips. Among other parts. Marcus had pulled her into his lap and proceeded to kiss her senseless. He’d licked and nibbled and sucked, and then he’d done it some more. She laughed lightly to herself and spun around.
“Had a good night, did you?” a voice said from her window. Cecelia raised a hand to her heart, startled at the sudden interruption.
“Milly,” she breathed. “Thank goodness it’s you,” she said. “You’ll never believe what happened.”
“I’m quite aware of what happened, miss,” Milly said. “I stopped in the garden to find you.” The gnome glared across the room.
“What?” Cecelia asked, as heat crept up her cheeks. “We didn’t do anything wrong.”
Milly ground her teeth. “Wrong is in the eye of the beholder,” she warned.
“It was just a kiss,” Cecelia grumbled. “You could pretend to be happy for me.”
“I would be happy for you if I thought your relationship had a chance to flourish.” Milly’s frown was disturbing.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re needed at home,” Milly said. “There’s no time to pack your things. We’ll be traveling tonight.”
“What?” Cecelia gasped. “I can’t possibly go home now. I’m not supposed to return until the moonful.”
“It’s your father,” Milly said quietly. Her eyes filled with tears. Milly had been with Cecelia’s family her whole life. She sniffed the tears back and straightened her spine. “Your father is unwell.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s unwell,” Milly said with a shake of his head. “And he’s unable to fulfill his duties as one of the Trusted Few.”
“Is he drinking again?” Cecelia asked. Of course he was. Milly’s face revealed every thought that entered her pretty little head.
“He’s unwell.”
“He was fine when I left. Dry as a desert in summer. He hasn’t drunk for more than a month.” Her father had been surprisingly healthy, not the way he was in the months following her mother’s death.
“He took your leaving hard,” Milly admitted.
“But he knew I would be back.”
“Your father doesn’t like to be alone,” Milly said.
That much was true. He never had liked to be alone. When Cecelia’s mother was alive, he’d drink occasionally. But he was a funny drunk. He wasn’t angry or mean. He simply drank, had a really good time, and then went to sleep. Her mother would tuck him into bed, and then she would apologize to the community for whatever he’d done or said, and then he would not drink for a few days.
After her mother died, he’d changed. Drinking no longer made him amusing. He was cruel. He did things that were disturbing, like break things. And he got into a fight or two. To tell the truth, Cecelia was relieved when they’d asked her to go to the other world to help out with Marcus. She’d assumed Marcus’s grandmother had called for her specifically to give her some respite from her father. Everyone who lived among the fae knew how desperately she needed a holiday. Was that too much to ask?