Did he?
How…delightful.
Nay, horrible.
Aye, delightfully horrible of course. To have a man get drunk over her! How delightfully horrible.
But deep inside, a part of Ember gave a little shiver of excitement. A man had liked her company enough to drink when she was gone. How intriguing.
“Of course, we couldnae stay long enough to confirm my hypothesis,” Bonnie murmured, lowering the book just enough to cut a glance at Vanessa.
Ember turned to Vanessa. “Ye three were home earlier than I expected. What happened?”
She’d ripped both her stockings, running home last night like a crazed fox— Mare? A crazed mare? What sort of animal ran pell-mell—Och, never mind.
The point was, she’d made it home just before her stepmother and stepsisters and had jumped beneath the covers on her bed, just moments before Machara had unlocked the door to check on her.
It had been hard enough pretending to be asleep, but it had been almost impossible to pretend when she was wheezing from all the exertion to get home first. Somehow though, her stepmother hadn’t noticed.
Vanessa, however, didn’t know any of that and waved her hand dismissively as she languished against the well’s upright post. “Mother objected to the way I chose to spend my time.”
“Ye were hiding behind a pillar with a knight, Vanessa,” Bonnie murmured from behind her book.
“I was standing beside a tree with the most eligible bachelor in attendance,” her sister snapped in return.
Ah, so the man dressed as a knight had been one of the Prince brothers.
“Really?” Ember prompted, just to be polite.
“It was Roland Prince; I just ken it.” Vanessa sighed. “He danced with me, twice, and I noticed how close he held me as well.”
In armor? That must not have been very comfortable.
“Well…congratulations,” Ember hazarded, “but I thought yer mother had her eye on the heir for ye.”
“The Beast of the Oliphants?” Vanessa shuddered. “Have ye seen him? Like some sort of wounded beast with all those scars. He was there at the beginning, scowling at everyone, but no’ for long, thank the Lord. Roland is no’ only more handsome, but far more charming.”
Ember grinned as she collected the rest of the washing accessories. “A real charming Prince, ye might say?”
Behind her book, Bonnie snorted once, then twice, as if trying to hold in her laughter. Vanessa’s eyes widened before she too began to giggle.
“Prince Charming!”
Bonnie dropped her book and covered her cheeks with her palms. “Then Phineas would be Prince of Books!” she giggled.
“And the heir would be Prince Beast!” Vanessa was laughing, and Ember allowed herself to join in.
Tilting her head back to the sunshine, she shut her eyes and forgot about the fact she hadn’t had enough sleep last night, or that she’d missed her chance to sell Mr. DeVille her design, or that she’d lost a shoe.
She just stood with her sisters and laughed.
Chapter 4
“We’re closer, dearies! This is the point in the story he finally tracks her down.”
“Does he have the shoe, Grisel? He has to try the shoe on her, does he not?”
“Hold on, let me check my notes. Hmm. Actually, nay, he’s got the shoe—the one she lost—wrapped up in a towel in his drawer.”
“He doesnae have it with him?”
“Dinnae fash, Willa. He’s likely just testing the waters now, eh? I’m sure the story will be right back on track before too long.”
* * *
“Where is that girl? Ember! My pillows are no’ arranged correctly. Ember!”
The screeching from the front hall brought Max to a stop. Cautiously, he tilted his head to one side and listened. Yep, that was Baroness Oliphant, the harpy who ran the inn. She must be searching for one of her servant girls, and Max had no interest in walking in on her in her current mood.
Wasn’t there a back stairway? He’d use that to get up to his room instead.
Decision made, he spun on his heel and hurried toward the back of the building where the corridor ran alongside the kitchens. But a surprisingly familiar sound distracted him, and he found himself frowning in confusion.
It was the delicate sound of a graver chipping away at a piece of metal.
He’d gotten used to it over the last few days at Oliphant Engraving, the sounds of the engravers in the warehouse almost omnipresent, but he hadn’t expected it here at the inn.
He took a little detour and came across a small room beside the kitchen; the close stone walls causing the sounds to echo. Since the door was slightly ajar, he stepped in, and his brows rose in surprise. It was another workshop, though a much smaller version of the artists’ studio at Oliphant Engraving. The larger machines—the presses and the drills and lathes—were missing of course, but on one wall hung an assortment of gravers and scribes and mallets.
“What’s all this?” he murmured.
It wasn’t until the figure hunched over a workbench startled and began to straighten, that he’d realized he’d spoken out loud. He began to apologize, but when the person turned completely around, and he realized who it was, something else entirely escaped his lips.
“You!” Of course, then he winced, realizing how accusatory it had sounded. “I’m sorry, I just hadn’t expected…”
Max shook his head, knowing he was making a hash of things. The serving girl—because it most definitely was the pretty servant who’d run into him the day of the ball—stood gaping at him, her dark eyes wide, a graver in one hand and a curved piece of metal in the other.
“I’m sorry for barging in.” He offered his most charming grin. “I was curious about the noise and couldn’t help but investigate.” He shrugged. “I guess I should learn to rein in my curiosity. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“What? Nay!” She shook her head, then spun back around and placed the
