Alora spun back toward him. “Thank you,Bash, but I’ve had enough of your vague advice for one day.”
“Fine, then. No more advice,” he said, and held up his hands in frustration. “At least allow me to walk you home.”
Alora’s mouth dropped at this uncharacteristic suggestion. She sputtered, “What? Why?”
“Because you seem out of sorts and it’s nearly dark.”
“I can manage alone.”
“My company is better.”
“Is it though?”
His answering smile, a full one, not some half-thought smirk, left Alora wondering if this was what it felt like to be struck down by lightning. He’d a dimple in his right cheek.Good god.
“Have you been taking the potion?”
“The potion?”
Bash’s brows dipped at her confusion. “The one I made for you.”
“Oh.” Alora shook her head clear. “I did. The once. Though now I wish I hadn’t. I wish to forget everything about this day.”
In a baffling turn, the shopkeeper appeared to hesitate. Eventually, he said, “I can’t promise it’ll matter at all…but do you want to talk about it?”
“Oh no. Certainly not.”The idea!She stumbled away from him, dragging hapless George along. “Goodbye. As you wisely said, everything can be sorted out in the morning.” She didn’t mean for the dark and threatening edge to tinge her words, and yet so it did.
William,she seethed, picking her way along Mugwort’s poorly lit street. He’d regret ever tricking her into those satin-sheeted beds. And the Urchin.Well, he’d… He would…
It didn’t matter. She’d decide what to do about those conflicting emotions later.
When she arrived home, she found her Opulence-gold cloak folded and set at her door and was immediately sick.
Chapter Sixteen
Alora had vowed long ago to avoid any and all distraction. Yet, she’d never had more to contend with than now. It was the following evening, and the third outfit she’d tried on, when she remembered:
“Brother!”
Mrs. Flops, alarmed, thumped furiously and bounded from the room.
William and the Urchin,brothers? They were different in build, it was true, but similar in height, and while one’s eyes were dark and the other’s light, that didn't mean anything. They both worked for Master Merridan, for one. Did that make William an Urchin as well? He was certainly devious enough for it.
Oh, what a mess! She’d half a mind to appear at the mansion tomorrow, imagine the room to completion in a moment and be done with the entire thing. But that wouldn’t be right. It wouldn’t be honest. Hell, at this point it wouldn’t bewise. Who knew to what lengths the Urchins spied upon Enver, becausethey must, especially their leader, who could mimic deep shadows and move about unseen. She’d have the shop she’d purchased wallpaper from as an alibi, but no one else, and she’d already let slip she was capable of more than simple, good taste.
She turned in the mirror, eyeing the silver dress from every angle. It was longer than she usually wore, flowing below her knee, the corset bodice free of straps. The hem’s stitched flower stems twinkled in the lamplight.This will do, she thought, and began the quick process of twisting the hair from her face. The rest she left long and draping down her back.
She fixed gems in her ears and red to her lips. She puckered them in the mirror and frowned immediately after. Maybe she’d made a mistake. Maybe she should cancel—
The knock on her door told her that line of thinking had come far too late.
Alora slipped on her shoes, blue, with a thin strap slid over her heel, and hurried from the bedroom.
“Hello,” she said, only a little breathless.
The stable hand grinned in reply. “Hello.”
Alora didn’t find Timothy Lofte near as beautiful as Bash nor as mysterious as the Urchin nor as devious as William—all of which made him ideal. A fine dinner date. And if she used the situation to learn more of what the ‘young people’ of Enver gossiped about in regard to the Urchins and their dealings, it would take a fine date and elevate it to perfect.
