Bride of Fae (Tethers) (24 page)

He sat up and tweaked her nose playfully. “Good morning.” He locked his fingers behind his head and did some twisting stretches. When he turned away, she noticed the ridges under his shoulder blades. How did those huge wings fit in there?

Oh, yeah. Magic.

Nothing in her world would ever be normal again. She saw that now.

He rolled over onto his stomach and propped himself on his elbows. “I have to tell you something.”

Her heart sank.
Not yet.
He was too serious.
Don’t leave me just yet. Wait for the morning light.
She remembered something he’d said yesterday at Piccadilly Circus and again last night in the park.

“Why won’t Idris let Aubrey visit Tintagos?”

Dandelion reached for her hand. He kissed her fingers and grinned at her obvious ploy to change the subject, but he answered her question. “Do you remember I told you Idris was rejected by Elyse?”

“The human wyrding woman.”

“Half human. Aubrey is Elyse’s father. He loved her mother, Frona,” Dandelion said, “a wyrding woman who lived at the border of the faewood on the outskirts of Tintagos Village. When Frona died, all the light went out of him. He didn’t need Idris to embrace the dark.”

Dandelion let her hand go. Her fingernails were covered with sparkly polish that made her think of sunlight dancing on the ocean. Through the window, faint pink contrasted with the dark silhouettes of treetops. Day was coming.

“Every year on troop night,” Dandelion said, “Aubrey tries to recreate his feelings for her.”

“He has a perverted way of looking for love,” Beverly said.

“He’s on a fool’s errand. If love rarely comes to us once, it never comes twice.”

She wanted to ask
,
Has love come to you?
But she was a coward, afraid his answer would be no—and terrified it might be yes.

“Idris wanted to marry Elyse
,” Dandelion said. “He thought he could harness her wyrding magic to his power. She rejected him, and now out of spite he won’t let Aubrey near her. She still lives at Glimmer Cottage.”

“But her mother was human,” Beverly said. “Wasn’t that hundreds of years ago?”

“A thousand. Elyse is faeling. When she visited the realm of fae, she awoke to her fairy nature. If she’d stayed, she would have become immortal. In the human realm she won’t live forever, but a millennium isn’t out of the question. Aubrey is frantic to get her back before she dies.”

“He should have allied with you,” Beverly said.

“He’s become too enamored of the dark. He thinks he can trade the cup to Idris for Elyse without returning to the light,” Dandelion said. “But Idris is crueler than they realize. He’ll never let Aubrey be happy.”

“What are you going to do about the cup?”

“Get it back,” Dandelion said. “I have no right to happiness until I make things right.”

“Will you be happy when I marry Lord Dumnos?”
No, Beverly. Don’t go there. Don’t torture yourself.

He brushed the hair out of her eyes. “Yes.”

“Oh.”
Sun and moon, wrong answer.
She pressed his hand against her cheek.

“
My darling girl, I can only hurt you.” His voice was like warm honey by a crackling fire and so gentle it broke her heart. “Idris knows about you now, and at Faeview you’ll be safe from him. The mansion is a cold iron fortress. That’s what matters.”

“I’ll never love the earl,” she said. “You know he can never love me.”

“I have to tell you something.” Dandelion took her hands in his. “I’ve given you a child. A son. You’ll give Dumnos his heir without having to try…to try more than once.”

If any other man had said those words, she would have laughed. “You can’t know that.”

“I can. I do.”

This was too weird. She backed away and leaned against the pillows. Not likely.
She rested her hand on her belly. Not possible. But he was serious.
And it could be wonderful.

“The fae are possessive—I’ll
just put it that way—about faelings,” Dandelion said. “If anyone finds out about my son, they’ll want him.”

“Sun and moon, he’s my son too!”

They both laughed at the same time. She’d accepted his words as true. And he was right. She had to protect the child from Idris.

“He’s your son too. And everyone, human and fae, must believe he is Lord Dumnos’s child. Especially Lord Dumnos.”

“I don’t know.” It would be wrong to deceive the earl. “Even a marriage of convenience shouldn’t begin with a lie.”

“A marriage of convenience
is
a lie.” Dandelion squeezed her hands. “Told by both partners. Dumnos can’t know, so set aside any notions of false integrity. The earl would tell Goldy—and trust me, Goldenrod is the biggest gossip in the faewood.”

Beverly put her hand on her belly. “A fairy child…”

“Not fairy. Faeling. Only half fae. He’ll live a normal human life span, as long as he remains unaware of his fae nature.”

“But you love children. How will you bear to be without your own child?”

“He’s my gift to you, Beverly. You’ll love him for both of us, and I have no doubt Dumnos will be a good father.”

Dandelion held
out his hand, and his small pouch appeared. He retrieved a dark box decorated with dandelions and opened it. His tether was inside. “If someday you decide he needs to know the truth, give him this—but until then, never let him touch the jewel.”

“I understand.” Beverly accepted
the box, fingering its carved designs. “But how will you get back without your tether?”

“The old fashioned way,” he smiled. “There’s a portal in Hyde Park.”

“Ah, that’s why you were there,” Beverly said. She got out of bed and walked over to the corner window. The morning sun was up, and the city lights were twinkling off. “If not for me, you’d be in the fae realm right now.”

“I would.” Dandelion joined her at the window, and she leaned back against his chest.

“You’d still have the cup.”

He kissed the top of her head. “But we wouldn’t have had last night, or all the nights to come.”

The traffic going by on Park Lane looked so normal, yet everything had changed.

No. The world was as it had always been.
She
had changed.
Something
had touched her, opened her to her true nature. Her eternal self. For the first time she felt called by something beyond earning a living and mundane obligations to Marion. She had to know what it was.

She loved Dandelion and wanted to be with him, but for now
that was impossible. He had to leave her, and she was fine with that. For now. He had to set things right in his realm, and then they would see.

Dandelion kissed her. “This isn’t over,” he said. “We aren’t over.” And he was gone.

D
ANDELION MISSED BEVERLY ALREADY
, but he was relieved to be home. Smoke billowed from Mudcastle’s chimney. Cissa must have come to chew him out. He braced for a lecture on how impossible it was for him to be with a human.

Well, he wasn’t going to be with Beverly, was he? He’d done what he could to make her short life happy. As Countess Dumnos, she’d be secure. She’d have a child to love. When this was all over and the Dumnos fae were safe, he’d look in on her and the faeling.

There might be a flaw in that plan. Fae time was different to human time, and by then they could both be long dead. The thought made him sick with heartache. If this was love, love sucked worse than disco.

He didn’t need Cissa to tell him who he was. Last night had changed him. He’d begun
by wanting to save Beverly from the fae in Hyde Park and ended with wanting to save the fae from themselves.

This was the purpose
he’d intuited when he first held the cup. This was his destiny. Not to be king as a matter of privilege, deferred to and obeyed. But to be king as a matter of honor. A matter of service. To create a better world for all the Dumnos fae.

He wouldn’t let a human change that, and he wouldn’t hear lectures from Cissa on the subject either.

In this foul mood he opened the door to a cheerful fire and the aroma of brewing peppermint tea, but Cissa wasn’t there. Beside the teapot were hot scones laid out with clotted cream and strawberry jam. She meant to soften her scold with a lovely breakfast. She must be out picking winter roses or late rhodies for the table.

He fixed a scone, poured a cup, and sat down by the fire. He would erase thoughts of Beverly from his mind. He would.

He pushed against the grate to rock the chair. The fire crackled and popped, and the little treat Cissa had made for him was great. If he could, he’d trade every drop of his royal blood to stay here.

Unseelie.
It was depressing just to think the word. To so many fairies it was now a lark to wreak havoc on the human world. They’d forgotten the pleasure of doing unexpected good for its own sake. What fun it was to spark a love affair in an otherwise miserable human heart. To inspire art. To replace a poor family’s crusts of bread with a savory feast.

In another life, where the Dumnos fae were light and Idris was a good leader, Dandelion could have been happy here at Mudcastle, solitary but for the occasional visits from Cissa and Goldy and Max. Glory would be with them too. And there was plenty of room for Beverly and their faeling.

Who knows? She might have turned fae. It had happened before with humans. Her family name was Bratton, a name from the time of King Jowan. There was a real chance fae blood flowed through her veins. If she spent enough time in the faewood, she might turn fae. Immortal. He would never lose her.

The fire blurred, and he blinked and rubbed his eyes. He was dreaming now of the truly fantastical, of things that would never be.

He should get some rest, though he’d slept at the hotel. He lost his balance, though he was sitting in the chair. The room spun, and he tried to stand. The teacup shattered on the grate, and he pitched forward toward the floor.

His first awareness
was of pain splitting his head. It was like an ax was buried in his skull. His hands flew to his throat. “Ach!” The sudden movement made the pain worse. He clawed at the collar, but it wouldn’t budge. It was metal. Cold iron, he could feel it. He was so weak.

He seemed to be in the back of a goblin’s pony cart. A
blanket covered his entire body, so sheer he could see through it. He writhed in agony trying to get out from under it, but it would not let him go. Glimmermist.

He stopped struggling and tried to make sense of his surroundings. It was dark and there was the smell of clean damp earth. A goblin tunnel.

The cart rolled by a wall torch that illuminated his captor.

“Max?”

What in a thousand hells was going on?

“Be still, my prince.” The goblin sounded miserable. “The more you fight it, the more it will hurt.”

Great gods and low, he’d been drugged again. And by Max. This had to be a dream. A nightmare.

The cart rolled to a halt at a huge round door guarded by two goblins. Max stepped down and spoke in gentle tones to his pony then came around to the back of the cart. He hoisted Dandelion over his shoulder as if the weight were nothing.