Curse of the Wolf King - Tessonja Odette Page 0,77
I’ve heard how seriously fae take promises. “What would you have me promise?”
“If this all goes wrong, if the curse isn’t broken, will you see to the children? I’m not asking you to take them in yourself, but will you see they are cared for? Given homes amongst your kind, perhaps?”
Tears prick my eyes at the sincerity in her voice, the pleading in her gaze. “Gray, that’s not even up for debate. Nothing could stop me from caring for them if such a terrible thing were to come to pass.”
Blackbeard gives a dark chuckle. “Be careful thinking too sweetly of them. Some of them bite.”
A corner of my mouth quirks, but my mood is too somber to feel any true mirth. “I can handle a couple bites.”
Elliot remains where I last saw him out my window, eyes trained on the rose. He must have returned indoors at least once since last night, for I see he’s traded his prosthetic for his staff. I enter the courtyard, the king not bothering to look up. Seeing him like this makes a part of me yearn to rush to his side and sit next to him, to take his hands in mine and offer comfort. But I don’t think that’s what he truly needs right now.
Standing tall, I put my hands on my hips. “Get up, Mr. Rochester.”
Slowly, he slides his eyes to mine. “Why?”
“Why? What do you mean, why? Because sitting around here watching petals fall won’t help you. Action is all that can. So, come on. We’re advancing our scheme to the next level.”
He sits a little straighter. “How so?”
“It’s time for phase three,” I say. “We’ve snagged Imogen’s interest. She’s seen what you have to offer—your display of wealth and gentlemanly behavior. By now, you’re locked in her sights. Next, we need to encourage a deeper feeling. It’s time to tempt her from interest to love.”
He scoffs. “How do you suggest we do that?”
“Courtship.” I can’t say the word without a hint of disgust. “It’s time to do all the stupid little things that will encourage her attachment. Starting with an invitation to tea.”
He quirks a brow. “Tea?”
“Yes. I’ll send her a letter today and invite her to have tea with me.”
“Why you? Shouldn’t I be the one to invite her?”
“Of course not,” I say. “That would be highly improper. Normally, the expected response would be for you to call on her family at their townhouse and thank them for attending your dinner. Since you can’t stray too far from the manor, we need a creative alternative. You could invite her family over, but we’d have better luck advancing our timeline if we got Imogen alone. And that, Your Majesty, is why I am inviting her to tea.”
“I still don’t see how that is supposed to make her fall in love with me.”
“You’ll happen by, of course,” I say with a conspiratorial grin. “Just going about your business, you’ll see us, stop to pay your respects, and then I will suggest the three of us take a walk in the gardens together. You’ll escort Imogen, and I’ll remain nearby as a chaperone. I will, however, make myself scarce so Imogen feels she has your full attention.”
His lips pull into a snarl. “She better not say a damn word—”
“I don’t care what she says. Don’t you dare come to my defense, do you hear me? We don’t have time for that.”
He glances back at the rose and gives a resigned nod. “Fine, but I won’t like it.”
“I’d respect you less if you did. Now, are we in agreement? I will write the letter now, send it with Bertha this afternoon, and invite her to call tomorrow.”
Elliot says nothing for a few moments, his shoulders suddenly tense. Finally, he quietly says, “What am I to do with her when we walk in the garden? Shouldn’t I…say something to, as you say, encourage her attachment?”
I furrow my brow. “Well, yes, you must speak with her, have casual conversation. You needn’t be too forward in your intentions, but a compliment or two will suffice. A kiss on the back of her hand, perhaps.”
He pales, a grimace forming on his lips.
I sigh. “Fine. Let us practice. Come with me.” I wave at him to join me. To my relief, he obeys. My main objective in speaking with him had been getting him out of the courtyard anyway, just so he’d stop sulking in despair.
When he reaches my side, he hesitates for a few moments. “I’d