Twenty-two
“Shit,” Jason breathed from behind them, moving into the shadows, Joslyn hot on his heels. Elaine stood frozen, staring at the space where Caius had been, as if by standing still, she could somehow will him into being.
What just happened?
“He disconnected,” Jason muttered.
“Is he coming back?” Joslyn asked.
Elaine’s heart kept hammering, heart in her throat.
Please come back. Please.
“I’m checking.” Jason’s gaze got distant for a few seconds, posture rigid as he stood next to Joslyn.
Suddenly, Caius was back again, gulping in a breath and pressing one hand against his temple, the other blindly groping for Elaine’s arm.
“Sorry,” he murmured. “Sorry, sorry.”
“What happened?” Elaine asked.
“It’s all right,” he said. “Don’t panic.”
“Too late.” Jason crossed his arms, staring at his brother. “What just happened?”
“We’ll talk about it later,” Caius said. “For now, let’s just—let’s just carry on.”
“Peter.”
“Not now,” he said firmly, glaring at Jason. “Please.”
Maybe it was the tone, or perhaps something in the look, but Jason sighed and looked away.
“Fine. Okay. It’s not going to happen again?”
“It shouldn’t.” Caius smiled wryly and shook his head. “I hope not, anyway.” He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, letting the hand he’d pressed to his temple fall away even as the other found Elaine’s arm and squeezed gently. “Just a little trouble. Nothing to worry about.”
There was nothing but concern in Jason’s gaze and voice. “Are you sure?”
“I’m never sure of anything anymore, little brother,” he said. “But I’m as close to it as I can get right now.”
“Okay,” Jason said quietly. “Then nothing happened.”
Caius stared at him for a moment before softly saying, “Thank you.”
Jason just nodded and took Joslyn’s hand, tucking her arm through his again. “Shall we go down?”
“Yes,” Caius said, glancing at Elaine. “I owe you a few turns on the floor, I think.”
“And mulled wine in your room after,” she said, reaching up to brush her fingertips along his cheek. Caius smiled.
“It’s a date.”
He looped her arm around his and led her to the steps and down, maintaining the appearance to all the world that nothing was wrong, that nothing had just happened up on the balcony beyond the sight of other eyes.
He was, if anything, a good actor. His hand covered hers where she grasped his arm, his fingers warm. Gone was the cold mask, replaced by something almost like joy. She wasn’t sure what she’d done to put that expression there, but she was glad to see it in any case.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd as she and Caius passed through them, the crowd itself parting before them like curtains on opening night. She could feel the weight of stares, hear softly spoken questions, statements, some less complementary than others.
It didn’t matter. Tongues could be left to wag. The only thing that really mattered was the man by her side and the fact that he had somehow chosen her just like that.
In the corner, the orchestra was warming up—how long they’d been there, she couldn’t say, since she hadn’t been looking for them when she had arrived. They’d probably arrived during the flood of other people and taken their positions quietly and unobtrusively. She smiled faintly and glanced at Caius, who glanced over in the same heartbeat and smiled back.
“Are you ready?” he asked softly as they reached the center of the floor.
“Always,” she said as he let go of her arm, letting her circle to stand in front of him. Onlookers formed a ring around them, as they had the last time, and Elaine’s heart began to beat a little faster.
I hope no one tries anything stupid this time. Don’t they know what a risk it would be?
She dropped into a curtsey and Caius bowed to her, taking her hand as the orchestra played the first few notes of a song. She squeezed his fingers gently as she settled her free hand on his shoulder, his free hand curving gently around her waist and drawing her a little closer than what was actually proper. The smile on his lips lit up his whole face, his eyes bright as he snared hers, holding her gaze as they began to move.
From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Jason and Joslyn standing at the edge of the circle around them, watching the crowd, each searching for threats. Each of them stole occasional glances at she and Caius, and when they did, each were smiling. If their approval had ever been a concern, it seemed they had it.
“Do you really think someone’s going to try to hurt you tonight?” The words were a whisper in his ear after a spin out and back to his chest, bringing them even closer than he’d drawn her when they’d started dancing.
“Depends on how bold they are,” he murmured back, gaze roaming for a few seconds before he looked at her again. “We’ve gotten nothing from the one who tried initially. Utterly refuses to speak—a tough nut to crack.”
“Maybe he was working alone?”
“Doubtful,” Caius said, then smiled briefly. “But a nice hope, isn’t it?”
“It is,” she agreed, then let him spin her again. Her skirts swirled around them, enveloping his legs as she returned to his embrace. “I just don’t want to see you hurt again.”
She regretted the words as soon as she said them, but Caius simply shook his head slightly.
“That, I think, will be unavoidable—though we can try our damnedest to make sure those moments are limited.”
Elaine nodded hard. “Yes,” she said, practically breathless. “Yes.”
The song drew to a close and they paused there in the center of the floor. Caius smiled at her faintly. “Another?”
“Please.”
“All night?” He suggested.
She laughed. “If you’re up to it.”
“I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”
She liked the sound of that.
“Seems that the bait you laid didn’t bring anyone to the trap,” Jason said as they retired to a sitting room overlooking the sea after the guests had gone. It wasn’t Caius’s private sanctum, but another comfortably appointed room elsewhere in the keep at Weatherstone. A servant trailed them, carrying a tray of coffee and pastries for the four. He set the tray on a low table before making an unobtrusive exit.
Caius settled into an easy chair with a quiet groan, putting his feet up on the corner of the table. “It could either be a good or bad thing, that. Was anyone watching too closely?”
“More than a few people,” Joslyn said, pouring coffee for each of them and passing the mugs to Elaine to hand out. “But I think they were mostly fascinated by the idea of the two of you as a pairing than any sort of malicious intent.”
“Maybe next time I shouldn’t come,” Elaine suggested as she handed Caius his mug. He startled slightly at the suggestion, his eyes widening.
“No,” he said, perhaps a little too quickly. He checked himself, relaxing a fraction. “No,” he said again, this time more slowly, deliberately. “I said I wanted you with me, Isolde, and I meant it.”
She nodded, sitting down in an adjacent chair. “All right. Then how do we flush them out?”
“You might have been right,” he said. “They’re not entirely foolish. They’ll bide their time for a little while before they make another move. Maybe they’ll wait until I leave Weatherstone to make it.”
“Might be easier for them to get close to you outside,” Jason said, frowning as he took a slow sip of his coffee. “More variables under their control than ours.”
Caius nodded. “Not a bad thought there.”
“So what do we do, then?” Elaine clutched her mug in both hands so tightly her knuckles were turning white. “Do we just wait?”
“For a little while,” Caius said, sounding thoughtful. “It’s not as if I’m going to be leaving Weatherstone anytime in the next week or so, not until I’m fully healed. That gives us some time and perhaps a little breathing room. We can drop rumors later this week that I’ll be in town for something—we’ll come up with a good excuse—and give a few different days for it and see what crops up.”
“If anything crops up,” Jason murmured, rubbing his temple. “I don’t like this, Cay.”
“That makes two of us, brother,” Caius said. “I know you said I have more enemies than I’m aware of, but this is uncharacteristically bold for anyone, don’t you think?”
Jason nodded, getting up and starting to pace, pausing to stare out the window at the sea. The world beyond the glass was dark, lit only by the fading moon.
Caius absently reached for Elaine’s hand, gently disengaging it from her mug. “We’ll get to the bottom of it, Ascalon,” he said, watching him. “You know that.”
“I do.” Jason sighed, glancing back over his shoulder. “But at what cost, Cay? At what cost will we get to the bottom of this one?”
“Hopefully not one that’s too bloody high,” Caius said.
“On that, I think all of us agree,” Joslyn said, leaning back on the couch she’d settled on. “But I do hope we unravel it quickly—for all of our sakes.”
“Agreed,” Elaine murmured, squeezing Caius’s hand. He squeezed back and gave her a reassuring smile.
“It’s all right,” he said. “Or at least it will be soon enough.”
“I’m only worried,” she said. “That’s all.”
“I know,” he said, then squeezed her hand again. “But it’ll be all right. I promise.”
There were few promises she’d ever hoped were kept more than that one, right then.
