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He tucked his hair behind his ears, irritated. The sooner it was finished, the sooner he could get back to work. The whole event was a waste. Occasionally, those who were brave enough approached to give congratulations. He waved them away as quickly as possible.
Charlotte leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “What’s that dance? I don’t recognize it.”
Her words caught his attention. The dancers stood shoulder to shoulder in orderly lines. They moved four steps to the left, then right, back, forward, and turned. They clapped and gestured to the music. Despite this, he recognized the dance immediately. “It was old in my time. The hand…thing…is new.”
“How fascinating.” She turned in her chair to face him, eagerness written in bold on her face. “Would you care to dance?”
“I do not dance,” he said coolly. She wilted at his words. “This dance does not require a partner. Anyone may join,” he added, because that was factual and not because he disliked seeing her disappointment.
“I think I shall.” As she passed behind his chair, she brushed a hand on his shoulder and said, “Try not to flirt while I’m away.”
“I do not flirt.”
“Oh, stop it. You’re shameless.” She flashed him a smile and winked before joining the dance line.
Had the poison affected her inhibitions? She did not act like the prim and proper lady from last night. Then again, a prim and proper lady would not have accepted his proposal.
He glared at the partly filled wine glass by her plate. How much had she had to drink that evening?
“You were late to your wedding,” Lemoine said, appearing at his side.
“Nonsense. The wedding started precisely the moment I arrived.” Draven leaned back in his chair, as if he had not a care in the world.
Lemoine made a noise that conveyed she wasn’t impressed with his logic but couldn’t be bothered to disagree. Sensible. That’s what he liked about Lemoine. She knew when to keep her mouth shut.
“There was an incident in the lower levels. I was otherwise occupied,” he said.
“Should we raise an alert? Cancel the celebration? This level of noise will attract attention but canceling the revels too early will hurt morale.”
“A very sensible thought. It is contained. All is well.”
While they spoke, Charlotte joined the dance line. A few awkward minutes passed as she attempted the steps, missing the beat and turning a second too slowly. She laughed, tried again, and soon had the maneuvers down.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She glowed as if lit from within by happiness. A trick of the light. She hadn’t looked happy when they exchanged vows at the altar. She looked resolute.
There was something that pulled him to her. He could admit an attraction. It had drawn him to her at Sweetwater Point, when she had been sorely out of place in the frontier town. Pretty, yes. Out of her element but resolved. The way she had regarded him with suspicion, intelligence shining in her eyes. Once again, he was struck by her resemblance to a bunny. He wanted to both protect her from the horrors of the world and consume her because he was one of those horrors. The oldest horror.
Absently, he rubbed his chest, just over his heart. The ancient organ still functioned, although some days it was easier to imagine it a lump of coal or gone altogether.
Charlotte bumped into the person beside her. A blush darkened her face as she laughed.
Yes, there was something there.
His focus did not go unnoticed. Lemoine made various noises of disapproval and mutterings about spectacles.
“You dislike Charlotte,” he said.
“My opinion is of no consequence,” Lemoine said in a flat tone.
“I would not be discussing the issue if that were true. Why have you taken such a dislike to her?”
“I do not dislike her, personally. I’m sure she’s lovely and charming and all the things a useless city lady is meant to be. I dislike that she will inevitably fail and that will hurt you.”
Draven took another drink of wine, making no immediate reply. Lemoine was a loyal hound, obedient and faithful to the point of obsession. Her opinions of his bride would always be low because she had seen too many of them fail year after year. “Your concern is commendable.”
“But not asked for.”
“She consumed wormwood. How did a useless city lady smuggle that past your inspection?”
