AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The scowl dissolved as if he hadn’t realized he’d been wearing it. “Nothing is wrong. I only came to inform you that your sister has sent out word and she’ll be hosting the first event for suitors tonight.”
So Ophelia was eager for another win.
Ambrose clasped her hands in her lap. “Will I be provided a proper gown or shall I be my own seamstress again?”
“What sort of dress would you like? I’d be more than happy to pass along the information.” Burke clasped his hands.
The queen couldn’t help but frown. She doubted Burke was eager to be running her errands for her.
Ophe—eee—liaaa.
She breathed through the press of voices in her head.
“Would you like a remedy for a headache too?” Burke sounded bored.
“Why are you attending to me and not some servant, Burke?” Ambrose blurted.
He snorted and stepped further into the room. She felt his eyes trace every bit of her as she sat pretty on the bed. Her curls were messy, her cheeks flushed, her lips red and freshly kissed. She hoped he didn’t look at her too hard.
“Would you believe me if I said it was a cruel joke?” His eyes were so dark they were nearly black. It was much different than the caramel hue she and her sisters shared.
“I haven’t known Ophelia to do much that isn’t cruel.”
He dipped his chin. “I think she’s taking great pleasure in watching the two of us squirm. She finds it funny that we used to be engaged. Did you ever tell her about that night—”
“No.” Ephram was somewhere listening and Ambrose was weary to talk about the night she lost her virginity. “I did not.”
“I wonder if she knows.”
“Are you going to tell her?”
Another rasp of a laugh. “Not unless you want her to have more to use against you. I wouldn’t advise that.”
She didn’t want that. Honestly, she was surprised that Ophelia hadn’t tried to get that information from Burke. Certainly, he would have given it to her should she have asked. Or would he have lied for the sake of an old friend?
“I want a red dress.”
“Red?” He nearly choked on the word.
“You don’t like red?” Ambrose folded her arms over her chest.
“Red is a fine color but it’s Ophelia’s color.”
“She owns colors now?” Farah had been the first to use the color as a weapon and it seemed useful enough.
“No. A red dress it is then.” He swallowed.
Ambrose pressed her toes to the cold floor, Ephram’s presence still tickled at her senses. Desire to glance back at him was a bothersome urge she had to fight to ignore.
“Is there anything else?” Ambrose asked.
“No.” Yet he didn’t turn to leave though, merely bounced on his toes.
“Are you waiting for me to dismiss you?”
“No.”
“Can you leave?”
