Christian settled upon the mattress next to her, lifted her hand
into his and marveled at the feel of her warm, supple flesh. Kissing her palm,
he whispered, “Contessa,” allowing his fingers to curl into the pulse point at
her wrist. It was comforting to feel the beat of her heart.
She did not stir at the sound of his voice.
“Tessa, darling, wake up.”
And when that failed to awaken her, he did the one thing he
wanted to do, the one thing that had worked before...Christian drew her
sleeping body against his chest, cradled her head in the palm of his hand, and
kissed her. Against her soft lips he wept with joy at the feel of her plush
mouth against his.
Yet when he pulled away, she still slept.
Chuckling now, he hugged her and rocked her, and muttered
words of love to her as he pressed her cheek to his.
After exhausting his creativity with every bit of romantic
wooing he could think of, he felt her tiny hands grasp at his torn
shirtsleeves, and he knew she was finally awake.
Leaning back he was met with, what he believed to be, the
loveliest green eyes ever. This close he could see the flecks of emerald shot
through with pale peridot. Like rare jewels they sparkled in the light coming
from the window.
She drew in a breath, crinkled up her cute nose, and said,
“You smell.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “Of course I smell! I’ve
only been to France, stormed a castle, attempted to rescue a maiden, battled an
evil prince, lost the love of my life only to find her again. Well not until
after breaking down a wall first—”
“He’s a king now, not a prince.”
“What?”
“Dominic. He’d murdered his parents and now—”
“That knave is not a king any longer either, because he’s
dead too.”
“Oh.”
“He fell upon my blade, after....” Christian found he
couldn’t relive that by repeating it.
“Oh!” She looked down at her chest, her eyes wide as she
recalled what he hadn’t wanted to.
“You’re fine.”
“I am?”
“Yes, thanks to that brilliant spell your parents placed
upon you.”
“Oh.”
She was so beautiful he simply had to brush his mouth
against every bit of her flesh he could get to. She giggled as his lips tickled
the sensitive place on her neck. And he swallowed the sound as he moved his
kisses back to her mouth.
“Welcome back, my—Your Royal Highness.” The words came from
Jackson, who was peering through the hole with Tabitha.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Should I draw up a bath, my lord?” asked Tabitha.
“A bath?” Contessa said, her kiss-bemused expression
clearing and brightening, “I would so love a bath.”
Christian looked at the witch and suggested, “I think two
baths are in order.” He showed Tessa his dimple because he knew she liked it.
“So I do not trouble you with my foul
smell
any longer.”
“I could wait, I do not wish to be a bother—” began Tessa.
“My father remodeled, remember?”
“Yes, but for two—”
“We have more than one tank for hot water, therefore, there
is plenty for both of us to enjoy a bath.”
He couldn’t help but return the smile she gifted him with.
After holding her gaze for a moment, Christian kissed her nose and then tugged
her from the bed, to the door, or rather the hole, and helped her through it.
Relieved to be clean and out of his ripped and bloody
clothing, Christian reached into the collar of his white shirt where his chain
was. He’d been informed that Tabitha had gone back out to the mist to free the
fey king and queen. Apparently she’d figured out the right combination of
spells to remove the magic.
His fingers caressed the engagement ring and he decided he
needed to have it back on her finger. After shoving his feet into a pair of
polished shoes, buttoning up a ruby-red waistcoat, tying a white necktie around
his collar, and shrugging into a velvet frock, he left his chamber for hers,
and knocked.
Hearing her soft call for entrance, he twisted the handle
and let himself in. When she saw who it was, she blushed furiously and turned
back to the fire where she sat brushing her hair to dry it. Running a hand
through his damp mess of hair, he realized he hadn’t bothered with the same. Not
that he cared.
“Christian, I am not dressed,” she said when she noticed he
was still standing there.
Undeterred by her words he came up behind her and straddled
the ottoman she was seated on. Leaning forward so his chest touched her back,
he whispered, “I’ve seen you in less than this modest dressing gown.” By the
way the thin material draped her body, he could see she wore nothing beneath it
and his voice came out huskier than he’d intended. He coughed into his fist,
hoping he hadn’t terrified her with his forward actions. But she was
his
betrothed and he couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty for it—for wanting her.
Contessa offered no reply as she quietly continued dragging
the brush through her hair.
He decided he couldn’t take the silence any longer and said
with the gentlest tone he could find, “Here, let me.” And he carefully took the
brush from her hand to begin performing the task for her.
Christian watched the bristles rake through the strands of
hair that looked more like strings of warm honey against the firelight,
becoming more like spun gold as it dried.
When he finished, he set the brush aside and settled his
chin on her shoulder. “I was so terrified I’d lost you.” After expressing the
fear that still left an unsettled panic in the pit of his stomach, he brushed
her hair out of the way and touched his mouth, using soft pressure, from the
linen-covered roundness of her shoulder, along the column of her slender neck,
up to the juncture at the base of her jaw, where he lingered at her pulse. “Did
it hurt when the blade—?” he muttered against her skin while running his palm
down the length of her arm and back.
A shuddering breath escaped her lungs. “Nay, I felt naught.
But I was surprised and quite confused when I looked down and saw it protruding
from my chest.”
“I about died when I found that you weren’t breathing.”
After another quivering intake of air, she said, “All is
well now. Let us not dwell on it anymore.”
“A wise suggestion, my darling.” Christian wrapped his arms
around her, pulled her closer and twisted her around a little. Her bent leg
slid along his thigh and stopped as it bumped against his belly. He cupped her
jaw in his hand and searched for the eye contact he wanted. Her beautiful
cheeks were flushed with color and her bottom lip was moist and red from her
nibbling at it. That was a little too tempting. He only had so much
self-control and seeing her firelight-gilded face was just enough to push him
over the edge. “Here, let me distract you.” And he kissed her without holding
back what he had in the past.
When she melted in his arms, he was inspired to let loose
the remainder of his inhibitions.
“Did you run off to Gretna Green and get married without us
around to congratulate you?” asked a deep male voice.
Christian was so surprised he lunged away from Tessa with
such haste he landed hard on his rump upon the stone floor.
“Has the honeymoon begun?” asked a woman. “I thought he
would have taken her somewhere special and exotic.”
Looking over his shoulder, Christian saw the king and queen watching
him with eyebrows raised and knowing grins. Scrambling to his feet he
straightened his waistcoat and bowed. “Your Majesties, I....”
“No need to apologize, Son, we completely understand.
However it is our wish that you will refrain from...loving her until after the
wedding.”
“Yes, Sire,” he said, as his hand rose to the hotspot on the
back of his neck.
He looked to Contessa and she took one look at his face and
bubbled over into a fit of giggles. Were his cheeks as red as he suspected his
nape was?
Unfortunately he’d managed to forget the reason he came to
her in the first place, which, of course, he remembered now. “My Lord, may I
return her ring to her? It, um, kept falling off.” He lifted the chain from his
shirt so they could see it. Glad that he’d chosen one with a large center
diamond.
“Hmm, not a bad choice for her,” said King James. “You may
proceed.”
He knelt upon one knee before Contessa, unclasped the
necklace, slid the band from it, and then looked up into her face. She smiled.
He paused, feeling a bit unnerved because the future in-laws were watching.
Could he come up with something moving to say?
He mused about saying,
You stole my heart with those
bewitching green eyes of yours, always transporting me to a summer day when I
gazed into them. Without you in my life I’d wither and perish like a rose
without water and the warmth of the sun
. But he didn’t say that fearing it
was far too thick with syrupy sweetness. Deciding to tone it down with a little
jest, Christian took a deep breath and gave it a go. “I love you,” he said,
“and I would be pleased if you would stop dropping this....” He winked at her.
“Will you marry me?”
She laughed at his teasing, and said, “Oh, Christian, you
are a poet! Do I really transport you to a summer day with my eyes?”
Staring back at her with his mouth gaping for a moment, he
cringed inside, realizing that he’d just said aloud what he hadn’t meant to.
Helpless to change it now he slid the gold upon her ring finger, wishing he’d
remembered to do this before he had an audience.
“I love you too, you silly fool,” Contessa said, looping her
arms around his neck. “Yes, I’ll marry you.” She settled her hand upon his
chest and took a moment to admire the ring. He touched her back and then
removed his hand, letting it hang awkwardly at his side. She wasn’t wearing
much and he was touching their daughter....
“Are you willing to don yet
another
wedding gown?” he
asked, fearing what she might say.
She groaned, pulled away, smiled bashfully at her knees, and
said, “For you I am.”
Deciding he didn’t care about making a goose of himself
anymore, Christian touched two fingers beneath her chin and kissed her,
although it was a chaste one.
Tessa blushed prettily, then queried, “When is the wedding
and where are you taking me on the honeymoon?”
“Tomorrow?” He checked expressions for approval.
The queen chuckled, shook her head and said, “We’d prefer a
week or two from now. We need some time with our daughter, and we need to
remove the spell before she again turns into a spirit, as well as restore her
memory. And let’s not forget meeting your parents.”
“Ah,” he agreed quickly. With all that had happened he had
forgotten about his mother and the wedding she was already planning. “Ah,” he
muttered again as realization struck him, “I’m afraid my mother and father do
not know who you are.”
“Then we must invite them for supper to remedy that.”
Wondering how they were going to react to the shocking
knowledge that the in-laws were not actually a human lord and lady but fey
royalty, Christian raked a hand through his hair.
“We will be staying with you here at Krestly, Lord Sparks.
We do hope you’re okay with that. Whilst we do love our home, it is such a
relief to get a long awaited holiday from it.”
“Yes, of course.” Christian adjusted his collar which had
somehow become uncomfortably tight all of the sudden. He turned his gaze back
to Tessa because just looking at her always quieted many of his concerns. “And
for our honeymoon, well, darling, that is a surprise.” Mainly because he hadn’t
decided where to take her yet, but he planned on making it as exotic and
romantic as possible, else the fey king and queen just might have his head.
Epilogue
Part
One: Painting with Light
She took a breath and relished the fact that she
could
actually feel it entering her lungs. It was also a pleasant feeling to have the
corset gently squeeze her ribcage as she did so. Brushing her fingertips over
the silk of her fawn-colored gown, she drew another intake of air. The aroma of
honeyed tea and warm scones sweetened the experience of being alive. Tessa
smiled as she smothered her scone with a thick layer of clotted cream which
began to melt right away. Her mouth watered at the sight.
In contrast to her current delight, however, were haunting
memories of what it was like to be cloaked in the glamour of death. A shudder
at the thought worked its way over her body. Of course, Tessa knew the spell
that had been cast by loving parents had only been done to protect her. As she
considered their reason for weaving such a spell, the uninvited memories of
Dominic attempted to spoil her joy as well. Taking in a sharp breath, she
resisted the temptation to gaze into those bleak thoughts that were best
forgotten. Dominic was dead....
Forcing herself to mentally seek more uplifting ideas, Tessa
recalled the fey magic from her childhood that had been restored to her memory.
The familiar words of the musical language danced through her mind like a
beloved nursery rhyme, comforting her soul. And while parts of her past were
tainted with darkness, her future was immensely bright, just like the magic of
her youth—she could actually see it as though it were as visible as sunrays.
Her parents’ castle, where they now sat, shimmered with gleaming fey spells
that etched the walls, floors, and furnishings. She’d even been able to see
remnants of it at Krestly as well.
The sound of a teacup clicking against its saucer snapped
her back to the present and the tea they were enjoying with both sets of
parents. Wondering if anyone had noticed her shudder a moment ago, she
considered those around her. Christian’s mother was chatting excitedly with her
mother about her favorite millineries and tea parlors like they were a pair of
ladies who’d known one another for many years. She was very pleased they were
getting on so well. The men were connecting just as cordially, it seemed, as
they made plans for the upcoming fox hunt. Her papa’s expression was filled
with delight at being freed from his long prison and able to enjoy a bit of
masculine sport.