The Courtship of Julian St. Albans (43 page)

“It matters,” said O’Connor, shaking
hands readily. “Brothers-in-law shouldn’t clash.”

“Plus, this way we can foist most of the
work of the St. Albans estate off on you,” said Alex with a wicked grin.

“Ooh, and the
titles,” said Julian. “That’s brilliant!”

Everyone laughed, O’Connor looking frankly
surprised at Alex and Julian’s eagerness to be rid of the very prizes that had
drawn many of the men to him in the first place. “You’d want that?”
said O’Connor.

“Oh, yes, Emmy’s always done better with
those things,” said Julian happily. “And this way no one can give me
the stink-eye when I move to the city and live with my Alex.”

“You must call me Alex, by the way,”
he said. “If we’re to be brothers-in-law and all.”

“Phin, please,” said Phineas with a
grin. “Well, this has gone rather better than I’d hoped.”

Julian giggled. “Just as long as you still
let Emmy write to Whitby about their porcelain,” he warned.

“I wouldn’t dream of interfering,”
said Phin with a chuckle. “She might make me learn about it in his
stead.”

“Phineas!” she said with a laugh,
lightly hitting his arm. “I think the animal husbandry will be quite
enough to be going on with.”

That started a whole round of teasing between
the four of them, and they were all laughing and happy when Godfrey showed up
to scowl and led them to yet another parlour where a full tea was set out,
including the Benedict truffles.

“Oh, you brought sweets!” cooed Emmy,
delighted, and she made sure to take the seat closest to the silver tray of
them.

Alex laughed. “There’ll be a little bit of
Benedict in all of us, I suppose,” he teased, taking his own seat opposite
her. Julian sat on Alex’s right, and Phin on Emmy’s right, so the suitors each
faced off the siblings.

Tea was served, and the food was as exquisite
as Alex remembered, which made Alex assure Emmy that they’d visit regularly,
for any meal she wished to invite them to. That caused a great deal more
laughter and teasing, and Julian telling Emmy about their brownie, once he made
sure it was okay with Alex. That led to talking about Julian’s plans for
moving, and Phin’s intentions toward Emmeline, and back around to Alex assuring
Emmy that he’d eventually make an honest man of her brother, just as soon as
they’d taken care of any pesky lands or titles he might otherwise have to deal
with.

“Oh, that reminds me!” said Emmeline.
“I got curious and looked it up, it turns out there was a parcel of land
that Duckworth’s grandfather sold to our dad that held a natural magic source,
except neither of them knew that so dad got it for a song.”

“Do you still have it?” asked Alex,
surprised. That was a very valuable bit of real estate indeed, and Alex was
suddenly interested in the St. Albans lands for purely personal reasons.

She laughed. “We do, and there’s even a
cottage on the grounds that’s in woeful shape. I thought, well… I thought we
might renovate the house for your wedding present, once it’s that time.”

Alex looked a bit stunned.
“You’d let me work out there?”

Julian laughed. “We wouldn’t live there
all the time, but why wouldn’t we? It’s not as if we’ve another mage in the
family trying to get to it, and right now the whole plot’s lying fallow if it’s
the spot I’m thinking of.”

“It is, where we used
to go for fairy-ring mushrooms,” said Emmeline.

“Oh, there’s some great berry patches in
there, too,” said Julian, clearly excited by the prospect. “And this
spring that’s so clear you can see right to the bottom, with a little stream
and a waterfall by the cottage.”

“It sounds beautiful,” said Alex.
“You won’t mind us taking that bit of land, Phin?”

“Of course not,” said Phineas with a
chuckle. “If it wasn’t for Julian’s generosity, I might not have any land
at all to steward with Emmeline.”

They chatted a bit more, until the food was
gone and the teapot had been refilled far too many times, and it was dark outside.
They took their leave with Phineas still looking a bit stunned, though in the
happiest of ways.

“I think he really likes her,” said
Julian, as they cuddled up in the back of the car.

“She’s a remarkable woman,” agreed
Alex, “and he’d be an idiot not to. Or really very gay, as in my case, not
to mention desperately in love with her little brother.”

Julian mmed and kissed him, cuddling up
practically in his lap. “That was a good save,” he teased.

“You’re worth
saving,” said Alex, stealing another kiss.

~ ~ ~

It took more than a bit of shopping to get
Julian all moved in, and when it was all done Alex’s mismatched furniture had
been replaced with the most comfortable of the St. Albans antiques. The
kitchen, living room, and bedroom were all redone, though Alex had to admit it
was an improvement. Even if he had spent a lot of the time hiding in his work
room while Emmeline and Julian discussed paint chips.

They had a little housewarming party when all
was said and done. Emmy brought Phineas, now her fiancé. Lapointe came with
Smedley and even the overeager Thomas, plus Dr. Geoff and Jones, Jacques and
James, and Master Stephen from the Temple. The Benedict siblings made
appearances here and there, though Mother was back in Paris and sent her
regrets, much to everyone’s relief.

Mary Margaret from the nursery came and brought
him a bigger pot for his butterfly plant as a housewarming gift, then repotted
it right there in the kitchen, much to everyone’s amusement. The brownies
helped cater but stayed hidden, though Nat had assured Alex that telling people
about them wouldn’t violate their bargain. The butterfly fairy swooped and
giggled and generally enjoyed the attention, especially since the pot Mary
Margaret brought had little wells around the side for honey, milk and tea.

Alex was actually rather enjoying himself when
Smedley came over, drink in hand. “So, you’re coming back to work someday,
right?”

Alex laughed. “Yes, of course I am, I’m
almost done with the last of the amulets and whatnot, and I’ll be available
once again for cases. Dr. Chesterfield assures me that I’m back to normal. I’m
not even on the maintenance potions anymore.”

“Good, Armistead’s getting all full of
himself without you around to take him down a peg,” said Smedley with a
grin. “Oh, that reminds me, they gave me back your keys, said the residue
from the dead guy was all gone.” Smedley fumbled in his jacket for the
little evidence baggie, handing it over to Alex.

“They won’t do any good, we changed the
locks again. The brownies insisted when they found out I used to have a human
cleaning lady,” said Alex with a laugh. He lifted up the baggie to look at
the keys, whistling to see how they felt after being stored in evidence for
weeks.

There was still something tainted, Alex
thought, though it didn’t sound the same as the curse that he’d been hit with
originally. He whistled again, and then his eyes went wide and he nearly
dropped the baggie when words began to form on the surface of the metal.

NEXT TIME was spelled out on the head of each
key, the letters glistening a sickening red as though whatever had scratched
the metal caused it to bleed.

“I, uh, think you may want to keep
these,” said Alex, showing Smedley the writing.

Smedley’s eyes went big. “Yeah,” he
said, taking the baggie back. He pulled a pocket-sized magic-proof box out of
his left jacket pocket and put them inside with great care. “I think we
might.” He snapped the box shut and returned it to his pocket.

“You’re learning,”
said Alex, impressed.

Smedley chuckled. “Some
things, I don’t have to be taught twice.”

Julian came sidling up to Alex, Horace perched
on his shoulder and much-admired by the crowd, and stole a kiss. “You’re
not trying to steal away my boyfriend, are you?” he asked Smedley
teasingly.

“Oh, no,” said Smedley with a smirk.
“He’s yours, creamy mounds and all.”

ABOUT THE
AUTHOR

Amy Crook
has made her living for the past 15+ years with art and design. She lives in
San Leandro, CA, with two cats, a roommate, and a pair of custom-made tentacle
pillows. She’s a dilettante geek and non-practicing goth. That means that she
loves in-jokes and things with skulls on them, she tends not to go too deep
into most geeky pursuits, and she rarely dresses up as a Goth (though she does
use her purple tentacle parasol to ward off the sun). Strangers stop her on the
street to tell her that her hair is long. She loves tea and gin, and she hates
it when the trees try to have sex in her sinuses. She’s a real geek girl, for
certain values of “real,” “geek,” and “girl.”

This is her
fourth novel written, but the first one that she feels is polished and ready to
unleash upon the world.