Page 4 of Married By Scandal

My eyes go unfocused as I force myself to relive that horrid event. “It was during Bartleby’s showcase last week. I was set to present my line at noon, so I had some time to spare. Lydia Mangrove thought it prudent to fill my time with the offer of a new client.” My tone turns bitter as I mention the last part. I never considered Lydia Mangrove to be my rival, but I do now. She’s a half-fae fashion designer looking to break into the human market, just like me. I thought we were kindred spirits with the potential to become friends. I was wrong.

“I didn’t know at the time,” I say, “but Lydia had lost her account with the Vance family just before I secured the contract as Mrs. Vance’s primary designer. So I didn’t think anything of it when she told me Mr. Vance was seeking to have a suit made in the fae style for an upcoming event. She said he was in attendance and wanted me to take his measurements at once. I figured it would be brilliant to secure the favor of both Vances, so I approached him and brought him backstage into a changing room.”

“Oh no,” Evie says. I’m sure it isn’t hard for her to guess where my story is going.

“Oh no, indeed. Stupidly, all matters of propriety fled my mind and I had him strip down for his measurements. That’s when he declared his undying affection, said he’s been yearning for me since the first day I stepped foot into the Vance home. Then he tried to kiss me. Which is, of course, the exact moment Lydia Mangrove pulled aside the curtain of the dressing room, providing a perfect view for the reporter and photographer she’d dragged along.”

Evie’s mouth falls open. “You were set up! I’m willing to bet Lydia Mangrove was let go by the Vances due to Mr. Vance’s bad behavior and wanted you to suffer the same fate for replacing her.”

“What a dirty harpy,” Breeda says, her tone more fascinated than indignant.

I shrug. “It was my own damn fault.”

“No, Amelie,” Evie says. “How could you have known better? You’ve been working primarily with fae clientele since your career began. Fae aren’t nearly as concerned as humans are over matters of propriety.”

“That may be true, and I may not be guilty of what the scandal sheets insist, but my own naïveté is to blame.”

Evie doesn’t bother contradicting me. She knows I’m right. I was never the best at detecting ulterior motives.

“Besides,” I say, “if I want to make a name for myself in the human world of fashion, I need to remember how to play by their rules. Taking a married man into a dressing room at a public event and asking him to strip down was an obvious line I should have known better than to cross.”

“You didn’t ask him to kiss you. That wasn’t your fault.”

Her words ease some of the tension in my chest. “No, you’re right.”

Breeda sprawls out on her belly, a wry grin on her tiny lips. “If anyone is to blame, it’s Miss Most Idiotic and Rude Lydia Mangrove. Would you like me to pay her a visit? I’ll sneak into her studio and burn her clothes to cinders if you think that would help.” She says it in all innocence, batting her fiery lashes, but I have no doubt she means it. The fire sprite is full fae, which means she can’t lie.

I release a sigh. “As much as I’d like to fantasize about getting revenge on Miss Mangrove, doing so won’t help. My standing with Bartleby’s has been compromised. If I do anything else to fan the flames of this scandal, my chance with the department store could be irrevocably ruined.”

Breeda kicks her legs leisurely behind her. “If you change your mind, just ask. Or give me a signal. A wink, perhaps. No, a secret code word. I’ve got it! Just sayit’s a good day for a heatwave. I’ll know what you mean.”

I chuckle at the fire sprite’s offer, but my sister’s countenance remains stoic, brow furrowed. “Why is the opportunity with Bartleby’s so important?”

“You know why,” I say. “It could grow my career.”

“What I mean is…why are you so determined to garner human validation? You’re famous amongst the fae.”

I hesitate before answering. I don’t want to tell her that part of the reason is because the human side of my career is mine alone, unlike the fae side. She’d only feel guilty if she knew I harbored a smidge of resentment over the fact that my fame was spawned by my relation toher.

Instead, I offer a safer truth. “We may be part fae, but we’re human too. I want to honor both sides of our heritage. There’s a part of me that will always yearn for what we had when Mother was still alive.”

A lump forms in my throat at the mention of Mother—Maven Fairfield, the most heartbreaking casualty of the war. She was executed by humans for treason, and I wasn’t even there when she died. Instead, I was being manipulated and held captive by the man I thought I loved.

Evie’s lips turn down as she fiddles with the fraying hem of her skirt. Breeda, on the other hand, seems to have grown bored with our dreary topic and has drifted over to my armrest, where she tiptoes back and forth like a ballerina.

“Anyhow,” I say with forced nonchalance, “that’s the story. Now…why did you want to talk to me about it? Foxglove said it was urgent.”

She meets my eyes and chews a corner of her lip before answering. That’s how I know I won’t like what she’s about to say. “I think I can help.”

I hold up a hand. “I appreciate you wanting to help, but you can’t save me from this. If you use your title to force Bartleby’s to invite me back for the next showcase, it will only sow discord.”

“That’s not what I had in mind,” Evie says, sitting straighter. “Instead, you’re going to gain human favor and respect all on your own. Or…sort of on your own.”

“What do you mean?” The dread forming in my gut makes me wonder if I’m better off not hearing her answer.

Her lips pull into a grimace. “How do you feel about marrying a human prince?”

3

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