Chapter One
“Yer sendin’ me away?” Mellie’s jaw slacked.
Dane added wood to the fire under the giant wash kettle, prodding the embers with the firepoke to stir up the flames. “Ain’t had a choice, Mellie. I gots too many mouths yappin’ to be filled.” A gaggle of the man’s spawn tore through the chicken yard, their feet not even raising dust from the dry, cracked earth.
Mellie shook a stray black coil of hair from her sweat-streaked face. “I’m yer seed same as them. Why’m I the one gots to leave?”
Instead of turning to face her, Dane grabbed up the wash paddle and attacked the boiling clothes. Mellie knew he wouldn’t answer. He didn’t need to.
“Who’ll she send for herbs and barks to make her potions if I ain’t here?” Mellie asked. The practicality of her question finally earned her a glance.
“Guess she’ll go herself.”
Mellie snorted. “Not likely. The witch ain’t been to the woods and fields fer ingredients in years. Not since she could send me in her stead.”
“Cain’t change it now, girl. I’s already agreed to it.” Dane looked at her, his sunken eyes red and scratchy, like he’d been rubbing flitchweed from them. “Best I can do for you, Mellie. Leastways you’ll not starve nor freeze come winter.”
She frowned. The drought-dry ground couldn’t spare a drop of moisture for crops. Mellie caught her lip between her teeth and stared at her da. Her heart ached with the want to stay. “Who’ll look after you?”
“No mind fer me, girl. I’ll get on.” Dane stepped over, awkward as he patted her on the shoulder. “You’s just like her. Yer mam. Cain’t watch you starve, Mellie. Be too close to losing her again. You’s pretty as she was, too. ’S how I got the placement for you. You’ll be treated good.”
Mellie huffed. Mayhap she’d be treated good. More’n likely she wouldn’t be. Either way, she’d be gone from home, a servant to some rich folk who didn’t know what it was to run barefoot over a farm.
If only it’d been the witch what was making her leave. She’d gotten worse as Mellie neared the age of womanhood. Khora was jealous of her, that’s what it was. Mellie was too pretty, and her step-mam was less than average.
“On’y a month from trothplight age,” she muttered.
Dane snorted. “Ain’t a one o’ the boys ’round here good ’nough.”
Mellie’s face colored. “Some’re a’right,” she mumbled.
Catching the sharp look from her da, Mellie busied herself with the wash. He wasn’t to know the hours she’d spent being toyed with.
“They ain’t touched you, has they?” Dane demanded.
Mellie shook her head, even knowing she’d be whooped sound if he ever found she lied over it. She didn’t count the kissing—she liked the way the bussing made her feel. All those crazy emotions tearing through her showed she was alive. Five minutes of those feelings held more living than a month of chores.
And if her da knew the way she’d been pawed at, he’d like be hanged fer killin’ the two lordlings she’d been dallying with.
She’d curse the face she’d gotten from her mother for thrusting her into the rivalry between the lordlings, only it gave her a chance to feel wanted. The kissing was part of it, same as the gifts, but the biggest thing was the kindness. Home was short on that. Tayne and Mattis were using her, but if one of them would keep her it’d change the lives of her whole family. If her wants mattered, she’d choose Tayne. He was gentler than Mattis.
Not that it mattered now, but her plans could’ve saved them all. “When’m I leaving?”
Dane’s shoulders slumped. “You’ll be collected come morning.”
Mellie nodded. An afternoon and night to get used to the idea of wasting her life on some noble. Well, she weren’t the first to be sent off due to drought, and wouldn’t be the last. She’d manage.
Dane blustered around a bit, feigning helpfulness and mumbling about Mellie’s employer while she scrubbed the grime out and boiled the clothes. Eventually he headed for the house, dragging his feet.
Not long after, Mellie cringed at the ruckus coming through the open doorway. The fights had worsened with the drought.
Gathering the sopping laundry, Mellie found the line farthest from the house to hang the clothes. She moved quickly, anxious to beat the water from the cloth so she could get to a place where she wouldn’t have to hear the sound of cooking copper ringing like a gong as it flew into things.
Finally done, she headed over the barren field to the barn to check on the few sorry excuses for animals. Most had come down with the flesh-ravaging disease that swept through the area a month back and had to be put down. They’d lost the milk and their winter meat in one blow.
A single emaciated pig remained in the sty, lazing in a sliver of shadow clinging to the wall. Mellie shook her head as she pushed her way into the dimness of the barn. The sweat wetting her chest and back met the relative coolness of the shade, sending a chill through her. Not waiting for her eyes to adjust, Mellie grabbed a pitchfork and got to work mucking out the last traces of the animals they’d lost.
“You oughtn’t work so hard.”
Mellie tried to quash the hope she felt at the sound of the quiet voice. There was nothing left doing. Another day and she’d be gone. “Yer mam’d have my skin if’n she knew you was here.”
The boy stepped from the stall he’d been hiding in, lifting a shoulder in an easy shrug. “Father knows where I am. I spoke with him last night. He’s favorable to the match.”
Mellie’s heart leapt, then settled in her toes. He was too late. “Chance at a match done passed.”
Tayne didn’t hear. He was reaching behind her head, loosing her hair from where she’d bundled it on the nape of her neck to be out of the way. Trailing his fingers through it, he brought the twisty dark locks around her face, spilling them down her front. Mellie sighed, not understanding his need to feel her hair. He always wanted it where he could stroke it, not caring how much work it would be to get the thigh-length tangle back into a knot.
Mellie grasped his upper arms, trying to pull him closer—or to push him away. She wasn’t of a mind which she wanted. “Hear me, Tayne. It ain’t possible.”
He smiled and kissed the corner of her mouth with a teasing sweep. Mellie shoved down a moan. How was she to leave this? His lips covered hers and his smooth hands were firmly placed on her cheeks, his fingers wrapping around her ears. Soon she couldn’t think enough to put space twixt them.
They stood rooted, their lips pressing and pulling against each other. The wildness raged through Mellie. It was wrong to give in to the bussing, she knew it. She’d been working to get protection for her family, but now her body weren’t hers she had no right to try. Shoving her inner struggles aside to cower in the dark edges of her mind, she focused on Tayne, on making him feel she cared fer him.
When he started to pull away she tried to move with him, but he held her firm. “Why the tears, Mellie?” he asked.
Confused, Mellie touched her wet face. “Curse it,” she grumbled. “C’ain’t even get a good bussing afore going. Pox and rot the drought.”
“Your family is leaving?” Tayne asked, drawing his eyebrows into a single line.
Mellie goggled. True, some families had given up farming, but this was the place her mam was laid. Da’d never leave it. Leastways not by choice.
“Not them, on’y me,” she said. A lump stuck in her throat and she stopped to clear it. “Da’s sendin’ me off ter be a servant. They’s getting me come sunrise.”
“Fata and fey, Mellie,” Tayne cursed. He shook his head and pulled her to his chest. “We’ll speak to my father. Mayhap he can buy you back. Ankou witness it, I’ll do what I can.”
Mellie shuddered, leaning in to borrow Tayne’s strength. “Don’t tempt Ankou. I’s close enough to death by leaving without.”
Tayne nodded an apology.
“Yer da wouldn’t help, nowise,” Mellie said. “There ain’t no room for an unschooled servant in yer mam’s home.”
Tayne had pluck enough to laugh at her misery. “I told you, he’s favorable to the match. He agreed to speak with your father as soon as you reach trothplight age. We can handle Mother. She causes upheavals, it’s true, but once you and I give her a few pretty little grands she’ll be fine.”
Mellie’s head spun. She’d thought of herself as a rock to be kicked between her two “suitors.” Her plan’d been to earn a place as a mistress. A kept whore was the best the likes of her could get. Could Tayne really mean for her to mother his spawn—as his wife?
Mean laughter came from the barn door. “You sincerely mean to marry her?” Mattis crossed the barn with sure, loping strides. Knocking Tayne’s arm aside he yanked Mellie around and into his arms, smothering her face with kisses.
For the first time in remembrance, Mellie was too shocked to respond. As her feet met with the ground again, she tried to pull away. Being tossed twixt the two of them was hurtful at times, but she’d never had to see them together.
Mattis pulled her back and tucked her under his arm. Mellie caught in her breath and wondered when he’d last washed—or maybe the stench was the moonshine on his breath. Mellie squirmed, trying to free herself. Mattis tightened his arm and ignored her, his eyes on Tayne.
“You’re just impulsive enough to find yourself yoked to the step-girl of the local witch. Whatever happened to using the girl for pleasure?” he asked, trailing his fingernail from her cheek to her chin and on down past her collarbone. Hooking his finger on the neckline of her dress, he stopped.
Mellie quashed the shudder that tried to rise. Mattis had never behaved so crass when they’d been alone. He could be sweet, when he was getting what he asked for. She tried again to pull free.
Tayne reached out to help, but Mattis grabbed Mellie’s arm and swung her behind him. Tayne’s hand formed a fist, but he stilled it at his side. “Who are you to work for, Mellie? Father will help me. He will.”
“Lord…I cain’t remember. Lord sommat.” Mellie stumbled, her tongue gumming to the roof of her mouth. She tried to wrench free of Mattis’s hold, feeling a bruise bloom under his fingers as he tightened his fist around her upper arm.
“Lord Kilamesh?” Tayne asked.
Mattis roared a laugh. “The bleeder found a job for her? Tell your mother you plan to marry a servant and see what it gets you.”
Tayne ignored the taunt. “Father and I will speak with Lord Kilamesh. He’s dining with us tonight. I’ll get you back, Mellie.”
“You try that,” Mattis said, still laughing. “Now get out. If the girl’s leaving I plan to get a good romp out of her first.”
Mellie stumbled forward as Mattis yanked on her, her feet slipping into the pile of manure. His spare hand grabbed at her chest, yanking the front of her dress. Mellie fought the urge to shove her knee to where the boy’d squeal like a pig.
Tayne rushed forward, his fist ready to fly.
“Go, Tayne. Just go,” Mellie begged. If the barn was roughed up her da would know something had happened. She just had to get them out without damaging things.
Tayne hesitated. At Mellie’s nod he left the barn, throwing unhappy looks over his shoulder with each step.
“Kilamesh won’t sell you back, Mellie,” Mattis said. He glanced at his hand, still yanking on Mellie’s dress. He dropped his hands to his sides. “Tayne shows me at my worst. Sorry if I was offensive.”
Mellie took a wobbling step away from him. “Go.”
“I said I was sorry,” Mattis complained. He followed her and leaned down to press his lips on hers.
She wanted to drown the frantic feelings bubbling under the surface, but not with him. Mellie turned away, hoping to master her anger. Mattis’s arms slunk around her waist.
It would be so easy to fall into the routine she’d formed—so easy to give him what he wanted—yet he’d just said he only wanted to use her. He’d never been serious. She’d given away her kisses, hoping to trade them for the security he could offer her family, and he took them as his due.
Curse the boy, he could have what he deserved.
Mellie cried out, swinging her elbow backward into his nose as her da had shown her to do. She stumbled away. “Get yerself out o’ this barn, Mattis.”
“Mellie,” he cursed, wiping at the blood trailing from his nose. He reached out to her slowly, like Mellie was a skittish colt.
“You heard the girl,” said a woman’s voice. “She said t’ leave.”
When did the witch come in? Mellie hoped she hadn’t seen too much. Her da’s anger would’ve been more than enough, but the witch’s fury was revolting.
A prickling rose the hairs on Mellie’s arms. Witchcraft. Without a pause, Mellie threw herself sideways into a pile of straw. Peeking out, she watched as Mattis’s shiny, silvery-yellow hair darkened. His scalp hair, arm and chin hair, even his eye fringes. It all turned to ash and crumbled away.
Mattis hopped around, brushing the ash from his skin and scowling at the witch. “Regret isn’t a strong enough word for what you’ll feel over this, woman.”
The witch cackled. “I’s shuddering. Now get out like you done been told.”
Mattis took a step toward Mellie, but at a noise from the witch thought better of it. Throwing his hands in the air, he left.
Mellie pushed to her feet, her nose twitching from straw dust. Her heart jumped into her throat, but she stood tall.
Khora turned from the empty doorway and sighed. “You was holding yer own with that boy. The Lord Knight’s son, weren’t it?”
“Erm.” Mellie squirmed under Khora’s knowing gaze.
“Yer da won’t hear it from me. Those attentions ain’t meant to reach a da’s ear. I’d’ve kept out of yer business, but you was asking him to leave and he weren’t going.” She waited for Mellie to nod. “You meet boys out here much?”
Mellie’s face darkened as embarrassment pooled the blood under her skin. She tried to find sommat to say, but couldn’t get any words out.
Khora reached for the pitchfork and started in on the job Mellie hadn’t finished. “Just the Lord Knight’s boy, or others, too?”
“Just one other,” Mellie mumbled. “Tayne.”
The words felt strange in her mouth, but if Tayne was trying to buy her contract, it’d be best if someone knew she’d spent time with him.
“Tayne.” Khora met Mellie’s eyes over her shoulder. “He’s right high in society, too, ain’t he? Higher even than the first.”
“Lord Vandergraff’s son. He’s good to me,” Mellie said, begging Khora to understand. “He don’t want to see me go. He—he wants to pledge to me.”
Khora sighed. She leaned her pitchfork against the wall and moved to place an awkward hand on Mellie’s shoulder. She pulled Mellie over to sit on an old bench. “His mam wouldn’t stand fer it, girl.”
Mellie sank into herself. She knew it well. “His da knew and said it was a’right.”
“That’s what the boy told you, leastwise,” she corrected. “Boys of rank don’t mean what they say. Likely he was using you.”
Mellie’d had the same thoughts, but hearing them from someone else panged. “He’s not like t’others,” she defended him. “He’s kind.”
Khora tipped her head to the side, like she was seeing something new. “You love him, then?”
Mellie shrugged. “Don’t know much ’bout love. It’s ’nough he wants ter look after me. Ain’t it?”
The clop of horses’ hooves on the road drew Mellie’s gaze. The riders slowed and turned in at the gate. Resigned, Mellie went in the house to stash the two small eggs she’d gathered. A flutter twitched her belly and she smoothed her skirt with jittery hands. Stepping back out into the dawn light, Mellie tried to smile.
A hand’s count of riders dismounted. Men in green and brown livery, and a single young woman wearing a riding cloak over her dress. The woman waved her hand and two of the guards gathered the bundles tied behind the saddles. Without a glance for Mellie, they entered her home. When they came out their arms were empty.
Mellie stared at the ground, waiting for someone to speak.
The woman was hardly older than Mellie, but her movements were sure. “We’ve a lot to do before my lord arrives,” she said. “You have a bathing tub?”
Mellie tilted her head, trying to make sense of the woman’s words. They sounded squashed together. She tried to speak, but the woman plowed on over her.
“Draw water,” she ordered the guards. “Your name’s Mellie? Sally. I’m to make you presentable for his lordship. We’ll start with a scrubbing.”
Mellie followed Sally into the house, wishing for the nerve to tell the woman she’d washed the night before.
By the time the guards had hauled enough water to fill the tub the well was like to be dry, and Sally had Mellie undressed to her shift. Mellie met eyes with one of the guards on his way out, and he flushed at having been caught looking.
Mellie hadn’t had help bathing since she was past fear of drowning as a child, but Sally insisted on scrubbing every inch of her. “My lord says you’re to be clean.” A hint of apology softened Sally’s words.
Without time to heat the water, Mellie turned to gooseflesh from the time her first toe entered the tub. Sally groused as she tried to wash the dirt from Mellie’s hair. “It’s all tangles and snarls. Don’t you own a comb?”
Mellie shook her head. “Not no more. It broke a month back.”
Finally, Sally let Mellie leave the cold water. For the first time, Mellie was glad for the heat; it dried her skin faster than Sally could turn her nose up at the drying rags.
The woman moved to the table and picked at the knots tying her bundles. Once she’d loosed them, clothes spilled out. She lifted them and shook wrinkles out. Mellie stood awkwardly as Sally went about dressing her. “You’re too thin,” she complained, trying to grab a pinchful of skin at Mellie’s waist.
Mellie colored but kept her mouth shut. She didn’t have the curves and softness to be truly pretty, but she’d been living on less food than most people.
Seeing her discomfort, Sally sighed. “My lord will see you get enough to eat from here on out. I just didn’t bring a narrow enough dress for you. We’ll make do. Don’t pout. Things won’t be as bad as you think. It just takes some getting used to.”
With that, Sally attacked Mellie’s hair. Unable to get a comb through, she gave up and took a long, thin ribbon from a bag. Tying it at the base of Mellie’s neck she twisted it around the hair to hold the flyaway locks in place, knotting it off at the bottom.
The sound of a carriage stopping made Sally jump. “My lord’s here. Quickly, now.”
Before they were halfway to the open door, a figure entered the room. Mellie choked down a laugh. She’d been expecting someone imposing, not the short, overfed man who faced her, mopping his coal-black brow with his handkerchief.
Mellie rushed to copy Sally’s curtsey. She wobbled in her heeled boots, but managed not to fall on her nethers.
“Excellent,” Lord Kilamesh said, his voice squeaking. “Anything to report, Sally?”
“Not much, sir,” Sally answered. “Her hair’s a fright, but I haven’t any scissors with me. We’ll cut it when we get to the castle.”
Lord Kilamesh cleared his throat. “You’ll do no such thing.”
“My lord, it would take half a day to untangle.”
“Then take the half day. I gave my word I wouldn’t let it be cut,” he said. He looked at Mellie. “A certain young man would be very upset if I broke that oath.”
“Tayne,” Mellie breathed. She’d begun to believe Khora’d been right and Tayne wouldn’t speak for her.
The lord nodded. “We have an agreement. Has Sally explained what it is I do? Why I go around the countryside finding young ladies to work at my castle?”
The bitty hairs on Mellie’s arms rose and her fingers twitched. “No, m’lord.”
“There was barely time to get her cleaned and dressed, my lord,” Sally protested.
He waved his hand. “I’m not upset with you, I just wondered how much the girl knew.” He turned back to Mellie. “I was born to my title. My father, his father, and so on, were all lords. Many of the lords in this country believe that birthright makes them better than the common people. I feel it’s an obligation to them.”
Mellie nodded, not because she understood, but because it was clearly expected.
“I hire girls and see they’re trained in jobs they enjoy. When they’re proficient at their chosen profession, I help them to find appropriate employment. They’re better off than if I’d let them work for someone else.”
He paused, watching Mellie for a reaction. Not sure what was expected, she just stared.
“I admit I was surprised when young Tayne approached me to buy your contract,” he finally said.
Mellie finally found her voice. “You ain’t letting me stay.”
“Of course not. Once I explained my plan to the boy’s father, we agreed it would be for the best. I’ll train you to run a household and behave as a noblewoman should. When you’re ready, you can come back and marry your young man.” Lord Kilamesh smiled.
“I’s still a servant, then.”
“I prefer to think of you as a student.”
No question, the man believed what he said. It didn’t make no difference; Mellie still felt squashed. She also felt like slapping the man’s priggish face.
Lord Kilamesh motioned to the guard by the door. “Now, young lady, there’s someone who’d like to wish you a pleasant journey.”
Mellie frowned. Her family had said their goodbyes and been out to work the dry field since sunrise. A moment later a familiar form stopped in the doorway. Mellie’s heart fluttered like a butterfly’s wings.
Following Sally’s example, Mellie dropped into another curtsey.
Tayne hurried to Mellie, taking her hands and pulling her up. “Never curtsey to me, Mellie.”
Sally cleared her throat. “His standing is higher than yours, Mellie, you’re right to show respect.”
“Never,” Tayne insisted, glaring first at Sally, then at Lord Kilamesh. “I don’t care who says you should.”
Lord Kilamesh beamed at Mellie. “I’ll leave you two to say farewell. We’ll wait in the yard. Come, Sally.”
Tayne walked close enough to kick the door shut behind them. The only light came through the two small windows on the back of the house. Mellie blinked in the dimness. Before her eyes had adjusted, Tayne’s arms were around her. She buried her face in his chest, breathing in his familiar scent. She wanted his arms to feel safe. With their strength wrapped around her, she felt naught but lost.
Tayne pulled back and lifted her chin with his palm, gazing into her eyes. “I tried, Mellie. The best the bastard would do is promise you’d be able to come back to me when your contract is through.”
Mellie scoffed. “He’s going to train me.”
“What?”
Mellie explained what Lord Kilamesh had told her. “He’s trying to give me a better life.”
“Rot all Fey,” Tayne cursed. “I’ll speak with him again. He has to—”
“Mattis was right, Tayne.” Mellie shook her head, her hair bouncing against her back. “Kilamesh won’t let me go. The contract with my da is binding.”
Tayne’s face darkened at the other boy’s name. “Forget Kilamesh, we’ll get back to that. Mellie, I need to know. What is there between you and Mattis?”
Mellie’s heart jumped. “We on’y gots a few minutes. Cain’t we leave him out of it all?”
“Mattis’s taunts are hard,” he said. “He sees I want something and flies in to take it from me. Not a day after he learned I wanted you, he was trying to take you from me. I need to know, Mellie. I can accept whatever the answer is, I promise. Have you been with him?”
It took some time for Mellie to know what he meant. “What? No,” she spluttered, pushing him away. “Ain’t nothing been twixt us that ain’t been twixt you and me.”
She’d not used herself that way—not yet. It was all she’d had left to bargain with.
Tayne’s face softened and he reached for her. “I’m sorry to ask that. It’s not your honor I’m questioning, it’s his. I’ve seen him with other girls and he’s always the same. I didn’t like the thought of him treating you the way he has the others.”
Mellie swatted his hand aside. “Were the others girls you gawked at, or—”
“Fata, Mellie, please don’t lump me in with his kind.” Tayne turned away, balling his fists. His anger floated in the air twixt them. “I was worried for you.”
Mellie didn’t know what to feel. Before she could make up her mind, the door opened and Sally stepped inside. “Sir, my lord said I’m to collect Mellie now.”
Grateful for someone to throw his anger at, Tayne spun on her. “I need more time, woman. Do not enter without permission again.”
Staring at the floor, Sally curtseyed and backed out.
The woman’s shame cut through Mellie’s heart. “Mind yer words. She ain’t yer own servant, and she ain’t the one what made you angry.”
Tayne dropped into a chair and ran his hands through his hair. “I meant for this to go much differently. I never should have asked about Mattis. I’m sorry. Do you understand why I did? He takes everything I want, and Mellie—I want you in every way.”
She wanted to hold her anger close, but when he looked at her the only thing she could see was hope. It poured out his eyes, his face, his hands. Hurt and frustration melted away and she moved forward, crouching until her face was in front of his. “I kissed him, Tayne, same as I kissed you. Ain’t nothing more to it but a few roving hands. I thought ’twas a game with you both, and I was just sommat fer you to play with. I didn’t know better afore yesterday.” She paused, trying to decide how much truth to say. “I hoped one or t’other of you might take me fer a mistress someday. I’d get to help my da that way. I always knew if it was my choice I’d take you. You was nicer, and you kiss better. All sorts of crazy feelings untie in me at yer touch.”
“You’re worth more than any mistress.” Tayne fought a smile. “You’re saying if I don’t take you, I’ll be giving you to Mattis?”
Mellie wanted to smile. Or cry. “I don’t got a choice no more. Lord Kilamesh is taking me away and I cain’t do nothing about it.”
“I don’t care, Mellie. I’m claiming you as my own.” He knelt in front of her, holding her hands in his own. “I know fifteen is supposed to be too young, but if I wait you’ll be gone. Mellie, I want you for my wife. Marry me. The minute you’re free, marry me.”
Mellie couldn’t move. This weren’t the way it should happen. His father should talk with hers after she’d reached trothplight age. It could be official after two years of courting. Then there’d be a year to plan the wedding.
“Please, Mellie.”
She’d be gone two years. Did she want to wait five years to gain the help her family needed? Could she? If the drought didn’t break, her da and Khora would starve in the coming months.
“I’ll marry you,” she said.
Tayne’s smile warmed her insides. He pulled a ring from his pocket and thrust it on her finger. The gold filigree band held a single blood-red stone. It shone bright against her hand. “It’s a ruby,” Tayne told her. “It’s nearly as rare as you are.”
Mellie smiled at the stone. Tayne’s hands had found her waist and he held her tight. He leaned against her, his face not an inch from hers. The moment of anticipation stretched until she couldn’t bear it.
“Mellie.” Tayne’s breath stroked her face. “It was never a game for me. I love you.”
He loved her? Marriage weren’t about love.
Tayne’s mouth curled into a smile. “Don’t you want to tell me you love me?”
He thought she loved him. Ankou witness, she was pledging her life and body to him and he thought it was for love. Mellie forced herself to look him face on. “I don’t know that I do,” she whispered. “I care for you, Tayne, but love? It ain’t sommat you fall into face first or land on your nethers in. Love’s learned, bit by bit. I know I like yer looks. I like how you treat me. My body likes yer touch. That’s enough fer me right now. It tells me the love can grow. If it ain’t enough fer you, we can wait to make this choice.”
Tayne looked at her. Mellie caught her breath, then his lips were on hers. The feelings he made in her fizzed to her head, stronger than any drink she could imagine. She let him move her to the chair and pull her into his lap. It should have felt cheeky, but it was sweet. In all the times she met him for a bussing, her body had never been pressed against his. It set free more feelings, and Mellie was terrified of how much she might give him.
Tayne was the one who pulled away. “It’s in your kiss. You love me.”
“Mayhap,” she allowed. Mayhap she’d learn to believe what she felt, or mayhap she’d learn it was just hopes.
Tayne slid his hands down Mellie’s back to her waist and touched his forehead to hers. “Kilamesh won’t leave you here. I can’t lose you, Mellie.”
She liked the hopelessness in his voice. It meant he really cared for her. She took a breath, committing herself to her words. “You ain’t losing me, Tayne. He’ll train me so’s I’ll be good enough even fer your mam. Tayne,” Mellie added, not sure she should ask fer anything just yet, “my family—”
“I’ll take care of them,” he promised.
She nodded. “They’s mulish, won’t take nothing they don’t earn.”
“Then I’ll just have to do it in a way they can’t refuse,” he said. “I can leave food on the steps, or even bring it inside if they’re gone.”
Relieved, Mellie nodded. She had to see them cared for. It’s what her life had been about for months.
They were peaceful for a time, glad just to be together.
“We ain’t got much time left,” Mellie complained.
Tayne nodded. His hand ran up the skin of her arm through the slits in her sleeve, past her shoulder to the base of her throat. Mellie swallowed hard.
“Did I tell you —” he paused as his fingers skimmed the bare skin over her heart “— how beautiful you are?”
Trying to push away the chills his touch shot through her, Mellie shook her head.
“You. Look. Lovely,” he said between laying kisses on her neck. “I look forward to seeing you in a gown. We’ll have a ball as soon as you’re back so I won’t have to wait a second longer than necessary.” He kissed her mouth, and Mellie leaned into him.
A timid knock interrupted.
“What?” Tayne shouted.
Sally stepped inside. Seeing Mellie perched on Tayne’s knee, she gaped and closed the door behind her. Hurrying over with her hands flapping, she said, “Get up, girl. If my lord sees you the pox can take us all.”
Tayne’s hands held Mellie firmly by the waist. “She’s not moving.”
Sally stopped, taken aback. “I was sent to get her, sir. My lord becomes impatient.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you from this, Mellie,” Tayne whispered. “Ankou knows I would keep you safe here with me.”
“That’s twice in as many days you’ve called on Ankou over me. Mind yer tongue,” Mellie cautioned. “Don’t want to lose you to him.”
Tayne took Mellie’s face in his hands and kissed her hard. “You’re mine, Mellie, and I’m yours. We’ll be together soon, I swear it. Kilamesh can’t keep you from me for long.” “I’s yours,” Mellie repeated.
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