Chapter Twenty-Four
I smack Emmett on the shoulder, his jacket so wet it squishes under the force of my palm. “Fern?”
“It was the closest I could think to Ivy.”
“Isolde, Isabelle, Imogen?”
“You make a more believable Fern.”
I huff and go to throw another log on the weak fire.
Will I be kicked out of the competition immediately? I wonder. Publicly shamed like my sister, destined to spend the rest of my life crying into a pillow, alone in a dark room? Strung up at Traitors’ Gate like the rebels Eduart described? Or maybe the queen will keep me around. She does love to play with her food.
Emmett is silent as he takes a seat by the fire, soaked clothes and all. He drops his head into his hands and goes completely still.
He can’t so much as look at me.
The fire hisses and pops as I stoke it. “Since we’re here, we might as well not freeze to death,” I say.
I strip off my green velvet coatdress, my ruined shoes, my crinoline, my soggy stockings, then pause. I won’t be able to manage the corset on my own.
I glance over to where Emmett is standing in front of the fire. As if he can feel the weight of my gaze, he lifts his head and his eyes meet mine.
He pauses. “What?”
“I—” I can’t very well ask him to undress me. “It’s nothing.”
He rises and crosses the room toward me. I curse the way my cheeks turn scarlet red. Maybe I should have let the storm drown me.
“I know my way around a corset, Ivy.”
A million petty comebacks are on my tongue, but I bite it. With careful fingers, he undoes the knot at the small of my back.
His hands creep up my spine, tugging at the laces with deft skill. “You’re shivering,” he says after a tense second.
His fingers still, but the warm weight of them hovers over my spine. “So
hurry up,” I say.
Emmett sighs heavily and returns to his work on the corset. “There,” he says, with one final tug, and the corset falls to my feet. I step out of it, now in nothing but my soaked chemise and drawers made transparent by the water.
“Better?” His voice is quiet, tense.
“Yes,” I answer reluctantly.
Emmett is gentlemanly enough to avert his eyes. He picks up my soaked clothing and arranges it carefully by the fire to dry.nder the force With his back to me, I slip out of my undergarments and wrap myself in the quilt at the foot of the bed.
I settle into the wingback chair in front of the fireplace, and the warmth sends prickles up my body, every joint beginning to thaw.
“Are you trying to ruin me?” I say with a small smile. Emmett is now slumped low in the chair next to me, still soaked to the bone in his wetder. Publicly clothes. I hope the joke will get a smile out of him, but it only deepens thecrying into a crease between his eyebrows. I’ve never seen him look so upset.ke the rebels The fire crackles, and I wiggle my toes out from under the quilt to movee does love to them even closer to it. “You’re no use to the cause if you die of hypothermia,” I say to him.es and all. He He doesn’t answer, just keeps staring at the flames, his breathing ragged.
The storm outside howls like a banshee.
“Emmett—” I say more forcefully, and he blinks back to himself. “I don’tmight as well understand why you’re angry with me right now.”
This gets his attention fully. “Angry? I’m not angry with you. I’m angrycrinoline, my with myself.”t on my own.
“You can’t control the weather.”. As if he can “No, not that. I should have left you alone, let you be. The most selfish thing I’ve ever done is let you get involved in this.”
“It was my idea to sneak off today.”
“But you wouldn’t have had to if it weren’t for me.”y cheeks turn “Stop acting like you’re the only one with ideas! I hate her too. I want to unseat her too!”
“I didn’t mean to suggest you didn’t have ideas of your own.”With careful “You don’t own the market on being a person with radical ambitions. The only reason I’ve received any of Bram’s attention is because of your help. Iskill. “You’re agreed to this, remember?”
“I manipulated you. I manipulated Faith. I manipulated my brother. I’mmy spine. “So
horrible. Your sister was correct in her judgment of me. I’m a horrible . “There,” heperson.” of it, now in“I don’t believe that’s true.”
“I’m trying—” His voice cracks like he’s swallowing tears. “I’m trying so hard to do the right thing, but I can’t seem to manage it.”
“I know,” I say softly. The devastation on his beautiful face is obvious. p my soaked“I’ll protect you the best I can,” Emmett says, and I know he means money. I hate that he knows I need it. I can picture it now, being swept away rap myself into a far-off country house, not kept like a mistress, but kept like a secret.
Queen Mor will continue ruling, and all will be as it has been. Only Emmett d the warmthand I will know the truth of what could have been.
I can’t bear to talk about it anymore. “Please change out of those wet mmett is nowclothes. It hurts to look at you like this.” And it does. It hurts in an aching e in his wetsort of way I can’t ignore anymore. y deepens theEmmett tears his gaze from mine and finally slides out of his wet boots. I turn away to stare at the fire but hear his clothes fall to the floor in quilt to movesuccession. you die ofWrapped in another blanket, he joins me again by the fire. The color is already returning to his lips, and I am relieved to see it. thing ragged.He arranges his clothes next to mine to dry, and now all we can do is wait. The storm outside shows no signs of slowing down, and judging by the mself. “I don’tband that has now struck up downstairs, neither does the party below us.
“I’m sorry about your father,” I say to him. What Eduart said has been ou. I’m angryweighing on me all day, and I have a desperate need to talk about something other than the two of us.
“It would be easier if I was mad at him, I think,” Emmett says. “But I’m most selfishjust sad. It’s strange, loving someone you don’t know. It’s even stranger knowing that they live just down the hall. I have these . . . memories of him. I remember reading books on his lap and him teaching me to skip stones on the pond behind our house.” oo. I want to“Did he ever try to contact you beyond the hidden messages in the library?”
Emmett shakes his head. “The terms of her bargain seem to forbid it. No mbitions. Theletters. He can’t even pass messages using someone else; their voice goes your help. Isuddenly mute. Nearly gave my old governess a heart attack the first time it happened. It’s one of my earliest memories.” brother. I’m“Are you still close to your governess?”
m a horribleEmmett shifts uncomfortably. “I was. She died just over a year ago. I think she would have liked you. You’re tough like she was.”
I shake my head. I’m stubborn, which is different and not nearly as I’m trying soadmirable. “I don’t think I’m tough.”
Emmett just chuckles. “Well, she would have seen what I see.”
“I would have liked to meet her,” I say. I have a feeling that the list of ow he meanspeople Emmett loves is small. He keeps them tucked away, close to his chest. g swept away“She was a walking contradiction. Tougher on me than anyone, but the like a secret.closest I ever got to parental love. I was a lonely child, spent all my time on Only Emmettthe floor, making up stories with my toy soldiers. She loved the ballet, so I loved the ballet; we went every chance we got. It was the only time I ever left of those wetthe palace grounds.” in an achingThis room feels removed from reality, a bubble of only two.
“That’s actually where I met Faith,” Emmett continues. “It was last s wet boots. Isummer, after my governess died, and I was sitting in the audience alone. the floor inFaith took pity on me.”
The warmth in my chest dissipates into something cold and petty. “That The color issounds just like Faith, so beatific. A saint, really,” I say sarcastically.
“Are you jealous?” Emmett raises a brow, and I think of his earlier we can do isconfession, the tenderness in it. I don’t feel tender at all, I feel scared of this udging by thewell of emotion I can’t control.
I paste a smile on my face. “That’s hilarious. You should try comedy aid has beenmore often.” ut somethingEventually our clothes dry enough that I’m able to slip back into my chemise and drawers. The thin cotton doesn’t offer much in the way of ays. “But I’mmodesty, so I keep the blanket draped over my shoulders. Emmett pulls on ven strangerhis half-damp breeches and goes downstairs to get us some dinner. The sun ries of him. Ihas long since gone down, but the storm is still raging. stones on theHe comes back up with a tray of cold cuts, crusty bread, hothouse peaches, and watered-down ale. “I turned down the mysterious stew,” he sages in thesays, laying the tray on the small card table by the window.
“What if mysterious stew is my favorite food?” forbid it. No“Then we’ll have to refine your tastes before you become a princess.” r voice goesWe eat in ravenous silence, and Emmett places our now-empty tray out in e first time itthe hallway. The party downstairs has quieted some, though the storm has not done the same.
“We ought to try to get some sleep,” Emmett says. “I want to be off at
a year ago. Ifirst light. We can think of our excuse on the way back to camp.”
“Agreed.” The panic-induced nausea has mostly retreated. My life may not nearly asvery well be ruined, but today has been so long, I’m too exhausted to truly consider it. I’ll save the worry for tomorrow.
We both stand awkwardly, not knowing what to do. Our glances flit to the hat the list ofbed, impossible to ignore in the middle of the room. to his chest.“You should take the bed,” Emmett says. “I’ll sleep on the floor.” yone, but the“You paid for the room, that hardly seems fair,” I protest. l my time on“I’m a gentleman,” Emmett argues back. e ballet, so I“Is that what you tell all the girls you seduce?” me I ever left“Are you feeling seduced?”
“I wasn’t talking about me!”
I cross to the far side of the bed in a huff and slide under the covers. The “It was lastlinen sheets have been washed nearly to death, but it smells clean, and the dience alone.mattress is soft enough to sink into.
I toss the other pillow to Emmett, and he lies down on the floor on the petty. “Thatother side of the bed. I blow out the lantern, and the room is drenched in darkness, the only light coming from the flickering embers in the fireplace. of his earlierI can’t get settled. I’m too acutely aware of Emmett’s warm body on the scared of thisfloor, just feet away from me. From the sound of blankets rustling, he can’t get comfortable either. d try comedyI lie still and listen to Emmett and the tapping of the rain on the windows until my whole body feels electric. After a few minutes, I can stand it no back into mylonger. “Oh, for goodness’ sake, just come up to the bed. It’s big enough for the way oftwo.” mett pulls onThe mattress creaks as Emmett climbs up and settles in next to me. He ner. The sunlays his head on the pillow and then turns to face me, both of us on our sides.
He’s so close I can feel the heat of his breath, see the fringe of his dark lashes ad, hothouseand the way his hazel eyes glint in the low firelight. stew,” he“I bet you wish I was seducing you right now,” he whispers, a ghost of a smile on his mouth.
“What would you do if I were one of those girls you take out into the garden during balls?” ty tray out in“I took you to the garden during a ball.” storm has not“You know what I mean.”
Emmett looks at me for a breath and then slowly extends a hand, laying t to be off atit, featherlight, on the side of my face, his thumb at my jawbone.
A shiver goes through me. “Your hands are cold,” I whisper.
My life may“The girls I seduce aren’t usually this critical of me.” usted to truly“Am I not one of those girls?”
If I were, this is the part where they’d kiss, right? I bet he’d cradle their ces flit to thejaws in his hands, really gentle, and tip their heads to taste them better.
If we were anything but friends, we’d probably be kissing by now.
“You belong to my brother.”
“I don’t belong to anyone.”
He sighs heavily. “You know what I mean.”
“What would you do, Emmett?” I ask, even though I know I shouldn’t. I have a perverse need to push him to reject me outright so I can extinguish this stupid, insufferable fire in my rib cage that ignites in his presence. e covers. The“You’re being mean, Ivy.” lean, and theThe rain on the windows mirrors my own frantic heartbeat. Just the heat of his body next to mine sets me on fire. floor on theI roll over on my back, terrified I’ll lean in and kiss him if he keeps drenched inlooking at me like that.
“Have you ever kissed someone?” His voice is so quiet I can hardly hear body on theit over the sound of the storm. ing, he can’tThe image of him and Faith, their lips touching, the way his hand fell to the swell of her hip, flashes through my mind. the windows“Yes. Bram,” I answer, deliberately petulant. n stand it no“You know what I’m asking.” g enough forI hesitate.
“No one is going to want to kiss you if you can’t look at them,” Emmett xt to me. Hesays. on our sides.“I’m not looking at you, and you want to kiss me.” I want him to deny it, is dark lashestell me I’m wrong.
“I want to kiss everyone,” he says, and that stings more. , a ghost of a“And everyone wants to kiss you, how lucky.” I try to make it sound like a joke, but I can’t manage it, my voice comes out brittle. out into the“But not you,” he says quietly.
“No, not me.”
“Did you kiss him back?”
“Yes.” Did I? I tried to. laying“You looked beautiful that night,” Emmett adds almost guiltily. “I’m not surprised he kissed you. You’re doing your job well.”
“There’s no need for flattery,” I reply.
“It’s not flattery if it’s the truth.”
“I’m not so sure about that. I’m pretty sure I froze up. He didn’t try to d cradle theirkiss me after that fight at the club. Maybe he didn’t want to.”
“You asked what I would do if you were one of those girls I take to the garden at parties. You want the truth?” Emmett asks. “I wouldn’t do anything, not if you don’t even know how to kiss.”
“Now you’re the one being mean.”
He’s silent for a moment, and it’s as if I can hear the wheels turning in his I shouldn’t. Ihead. There’s an unceasing heat where his eyes bore into the side of my face. xtinguish this“I could teach you,” he says.
The excuse is gossamer thin. He knows as well as I do, I’ll be kicked out of the competition, or worse, upon our return to camp tomorrow. I’m never
Just the heatgoing to kiss Bram again.
I should say no. But it’s Emmett. m if he keepsIt’s Emmett, as in, I have no control over it.
I turn to look at him, our faces only a breath apart. And his eyes, his eyes n hardly hearThe peculiar hazel color dances gold in the moonlight.
His gaze pins me like a shadowboxed butterfly. s hand fell to“All right,” I whisper. I’m flushed all over, like the knowledge that he’s about to touch me is as good as the touching itself.
I push myself up so I’m sitting cross-legged on the bed. Emmett rises and places a warm hand on my knee.
He leans in, but just as I expect his lips to brush mine, he pulls back and em,” Emmettmakes me chase it.
For a moment, there is just warmth, and pressure. m to deny it,I press my lips to his, harder, but don’t know what to do next. Emmett stills against me. I pull back and huff out a sigh of frustration.
Emmett chuckles, and I slap his chest. it sound like“You’re too stiff,” he says.
“I know. So teach me how to do it better.”
His gaze flicks down.
He presses his thumb to my bottom lip. Automatically, my jaw unhinges and my lips drop open. “Relax,” he whispers against my mouth.
It’s softer this time. He weaves one hand through the tendrils of unbound tily. “I’m nothair on my neck and another around the small of my waist. The heat and the weight of him is everywhere, as if my body is covered with a cascade of
sparks.
My hands scramble for purchase. I wind them through his hair and tug didn’t try tojust a little too hard. “Easy,” he murmurs.
His tongue darts between my lips, and I freeze.
I take to the“Let me in,” he breathes. “Take it.” wouldn’t doI open to the velvet pressure of his tongue, his mouth soft but unrelenting.
He tugs hard at the hair at the nape of my neck, tipping me back onto the bed. He hovers over me, caging me in with his tall frame. turning in hisI move, desperate for some relief, and he pulls me against him until I can feel every hard plane of his body. I gasp, desperate for air, and he trails his tongue along the jackrabbit beat of my pulse until he reaches my earlobe. His be kicked outteeth close around the tender skin, not hard enough to hurt but enough to w. I’m nevermake me arch against him.
He kisses the exact opposite of his brother. He’s not polite at all, it’s like he’s starving for it.
His hands wander even lower down, ghosting over my breasts, then his eyes.grasping the soft part of my waist hard enough to bruise. I want him impossibly closer. He’s unlocked something in me. I didn’t know kissing could feel like this. I didn’t know anything could feel like this. dge that he’sSuddenly he pushes me away. I raise my hand to my kiss-swollen lips.
“Did I do something wrong?”
mett rises and“No.”
“Then why—” ulls back and“Ivy,” he says in that peculiar, exhausted way of his.
“What?” I whisper.
He stands suddenly, backing away from the bed. “You’ve done perfectly next. Emmettwell. I think the kissing lesson is over.”
I’m feverish with jealousy of the girls who got to have him before me, for real, without the veil of pretense and denial.
“Perfectly well?” I try to keep my voice light. It’s taking all my strength not to reach out to him and beg for more. “Top marks in His Royal Highness Prince Emmett De Vere’s school of kissing? Will I be valedictorian?” jaw unhingesHe laughs humorlessly. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
I’m just another in a long list of girls. I would be foolish to let myself s of unboundthink I was special. “I wouldn’t dare.” heat and theI wrap my arms around my middle and hug myself tight. I try to think of a cascade ofBram and his easy smile. He’s such a lovely boy. Emmett isn’t lovely at all.
He’s reckless and mercurial, and he will never be mine. hair and tugI felt his body against mine. I’m not foolish enough to think I’m alone in my want. Emmett would give me more, I know he would. All I’d have to do is push a little harder, and he would have me pinned to this mattress in seconds. unrelenting.But I am alone with this stupid, throbbing ache in my rib cage that longs back onto thefor something like love. Emmett can’t give it to me, and it wouldn’t be mine to take anyway. m until I canHe disappears into the attached washroom and is in there for so long, I he trails hisbegin to fear he’s sleeping in the bathtub, but finally I hear the squeak of the y earlobe. Hisdoor and the soft padding of his footsteps. The bed sinks as he lies down next ut enough toto me.
Emmett’s ragged breathing slows after a long time, and I think he must be t all, it’s likeasleep. It gives me the bravery to ask a question that’s been weighing on me.
“Were you always on the lookout for the perfect May Queen?” breasts, thenI roll over again to face him, but he stays on his back. I stare at his I want himprofile, silhouetted in the moonlight streaming in from the window. know kissing“I hoped you were asleep,” he replies.
“You have quite the reputation. Was it all subterfuge?” swollen lips.“A lot of it,” he admits. “But not all.”
I hate that it stings to hear him say it.
“Would you like to know the truth?” he asks.
“Always.”
“The Tremaines’ youngest daughter was meeting up with the scullery maid. I was simply providing lookout, and then a cover story when the two one perfectlyyoung lovers were almost caught.”
“And Christine Cambere?” efore me, for“Got her shoe caught in a trellis trying to climb the garden wall to return to her bedroom unseen. I was only helping to get her unstuck. Parties bore strengthher.” yal Highness“So none of the rumors are true?” I ask.
“None of the more popular ones. I’m not a saint, I’m just not clumsy enough to get caught. The tryst I had was actually with Christine’s sister to let myselfGeorgia, though we were quite good at keeping that one under wraps. I’ve had my fair share of lady’s maids, barmaids, milkmaids.” ry to think ofI can’t tell if he’s joking. “And Faith,” I add. lovely at all.Emmett goes quiet. “And Faith.”
“You said you didn’t love her.”
I’m alone inHe wrings his hands in the sheets before he answers. “Faith and I hurt ’d have to doeach other because we weren’t what the other wanted. I was too self-obsessed s mattress into give Faith the respect she deserved, and she didn’t love me in the way I was hungry for. We were clumsy, and things got broken, but it doesn’t mean ge that longssome great love story was ruined. Faith and I have talked, we’re friends now. dn’t be mineI can assure you she does not love me, nor I her.”
I expect to feel jealous, but instead I just feel sad for him. or so long, I“I was only eight when my father gave me up,” he says. “I so desperately squeak of thewanted love that I searched for it everywhere. They had to switch out the es down nextmaids who built my fires daily, after I started growing too attached to them and asking them to stay with me. At night, when I was supposed to be nk he must besleeping, I’d sneak out to the stables and read stories to the horses, like they were my friends, even though the grooms told me they weren’t. I spent the first few years after my father’s separation writing him letters at night, I stare at hisdetailing every single thing I did that day. I thought one day we’d be reunited and he’d want to know all I had done in his absence. But I stopped believing that some time ago.”
I want to reach out and touch him, offer some comfort, but I can’t.
“My confession is this,” Emmett continues. “I grew up without a family, in drafty palace rooms with nothing but a governess, a tutor, and a battalion of toy soldiers for company. I’ve spent my whole life on my hands and knees, clamoring for crumbs of love. I don’t know if there will ever come a time I the sculleryam not hungry for it.” when the twoEmmett’s sullen nature, his recklessness with his heart, it’s all coming into focus now.
I offer him a confession in return. “Sometimes I’m afraid that I was too wall to returncoddled. I think my parents and sister loved me so much, I’m not prepared Parties borefor a world that doesn’t love me the same way.”
“The only person on earth I’m certain who loves me is Bram,” he replies.
Like a girl possessed, I reach out across the expanse of our shared bed t not clumsyand grasp his cold hand in mine. He squeezes, and I squeeze back. I could stine’s sisterlove you. Let me love you, but I can’t, and he knows it as well as I do. r wraps. I’veI will be Bram’s or I will be no one’s.
And now the only thing I can do is live with it.
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