ALICE
The marquis watches me with the strangest expression. He looks like I’ve flummoxed him.
It’s been a strange meeting, even disregarding the sudden downpour. Though Lord Ambrose claims he wants to get to know me—that we should be cordial—his expression is shielded.
He seems leery of me, unsure and hesitant. It’s as if he’s here against his better judgment. But why?
Even after he lowers his hand, rain continues to fall around us, making my job obsolete.
I stare at the rain-drenched flowers as the shower begins to let up. With a sigh, I say, “Now what am I going to do with my afternoon?”
“Whatever you’d like,” he answers, perhaps thinking he’s doing me a favor.
“While the sentiment is appreciated, I’m not sure there’s much for me to do here, my lord.”
“Brahm.” His eyes meet mine, and they hold. Lowering his voice marginally, he says again, “Please, call me Brahm.”
“Brahm,” I say slowly.
He nods.
“All right…” I frown. “If we are now on a first-name basis, then perhaps you will permit a question?”
He looks unsure, but he nods once more.
“The last time I spoke with you, you were gruff and abrupt. Why are you being nice now?”
“I’ve come to terms with the fact I cannot get rid of you.” He softens the words with a weak smile. “So, we might as well make the best of it.”
“If you free my brother, I will leave,” I can’t help but point out.
Slightly amused, he says, “I’m not that benevolent.”
Not yet anyway, but I cannot help but feel that my goal to win him over might not be so impossible.
As if bracing himself for something unpleasant, he clasps his hands behind his back and says, “You haven’t left the manor in several weeks. I imagine you are growing restless. Shall we go into Kellington and see a show?”
“You would take your garden maid on an outing?” I say skeptically.
“You are not a garden maid, Alice. You are the daughter of Lord Gravely, born of noble blood. I am merely humoring you by allowing you to tend the plants. We are equals.”
“But…I am human,” I remind him. Never mind the fact that he is actually a royal, though he doesn’t bring that up.
Brahm almost smiles. “I haven’t forgotten.”
I study him, remembering the bandit’s warnings. After a moment, I set my hands on my hips. “I know what this is.”
“What is it?” Brahm asks, his brow furrowing.
“You’re going to trick me into following you across the bridge, and then you’re going to leave me.”
“While that is certainly a tempting idea, I have no intention of it.”
“How can I possibly trust you when you’re desperate to oust me from your house?”
“Because lies do not come easily to the Fae of West Faerie—our magic does not allow it. Surely you’ve heard that?” His dark eyes earnestly meet mine. “I will bring you back, safe and sound, at the end of the night. You have my word.”
I look for a loophole, a way he could be twisting his words. But it doesn’t matter. I won’t go with him. What if the bandit were to finally visit and find me gone? Worse, what if he were to see me together with Lord Ambrose?