“Thank you,” Sophie said. “I wish we could talk more.”
“You know where to find me. Perhaps when things are more settled.” She shook her head. “Or, perhaps, if things do not settle. Remember that.”
Sophie smiled. “Thank you. I will. And yes, once things are settled, I will come to your shop. After all, the queen-to-be always says you have the best supplies, and I’m a royal witch now. My husband—whoever he turns out to be—will just have to get used to paying your bills.”
“That, I would be happy to accommodate,” Madame de Montesse said. She nodded toward the house. “Go now. You have a dress to try on. These things are important at court.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Are you ready for this, brother?” Alec asked. He put his hand on Cameron’s shoulder, peering into his face. “You look nervous.”
“I’m not nervous,” Cam retorted. “You’re drunk.”
“Not really,” Alec said. “Not so you’d notice.”
The Iska had flowed freely at the Mackenzie apartments since they’d returned from the rites for their father. Well, at least it had for Liam and Alec. Cameron, having to report for duty, had kept his intake low. Being on night duty had given him an excuse to escape the second round of drinking the previous night. It also meant he was desperately tired, but the anticipation of what was about to happen was generating enough nervous energy to keep him on his feet. Eloisa was holding her first audience at midday. But that didn’t seem to have stopped his brothers having another few glasses of Iska already today.
Alec, at least, didn’t have anything important to do at court today, so it wouldn’t matter if he was a little under the weather. But Liam. Liam had a role to play. Not to mention this was his first audience since he had become erl. Maybe Cameron wasn’t the only nervous one in the room. To be fair, though, Liam always could drink the rest of them under the table. A glass or two of Iska wasn’t going to affect him much.
Hopefully. Today Eloisa would announce Cameron’s betrothal to Sophie.
Which was likely to turn the court into a three-ring circus. Liam would need his wits about him. They all would.
Cameron had been keeping his ears to the ground for rumors involving Sophie, and even in the short time since Eloisa had declared herself well again, the barracks gossip had been full of speculation about which lord might be granted the new royal witch. His name hadn’t come up in any serious fashion. No. So far the favored contender was the distant Farkeep relative that the archivists had determined was the heir to the late erl, with so many of the family killed in the attack. The man lived halfway across the country in some obscure town. He hadn’t even reached court yet.
When he did, he would no doubt send all the mothers of eligible daughters into matchmaking mode. But Sophie’s mother wouldn’t be one of them. No, because her daughter would already be betrothed to Cameron.
He’d seen Sophie for only brief moments here and there. The ladies-in-waiting seemed to be everywhere in the palace, moving in small black-clad groups as they ordered and scolded and coaxed and ensured that the queen-to-be’s wishes were being carried out exactly.
He managed a minute or two with her before breakfast this morning and had asked if she’d heard any rumors about them. She said she hadn’t, though she admitted she thought the ladies-in-waiting suspected something. But if they had their suspicions, they apparently weren’t sharing them with the rest of the court. The fact that Sophie was staying with his brother hadn’t seemed to have triggered anything. Half the court was displaced, and almost every family was hosting extra guests and providing beds and food where they could.
And with everyone focused on the queen-to-be, the court simply lacked the time for the full-blown level of speculation—and lobbying—there would normally be around a royal witch. And whilst there were some puzzled whispers about how the Domina had healed the queen-to-be so quickly, once again, Sophie’s name wasn’t being mentioned. Which was good. He didn’t know whether what Lord Sylvain had told him had any truth to it—if someone had killed the erl’s first wife—but he wasn’t going to take any chances with Sophie.
They wanted him to marry her. So he would marry her. And then he would protect her as his honor demanded.
No one would harm her as long as he had any say in the matter.
He shook off the dark thought.
Most likely Lord Sylvain had just been seeing shadows where there were none in the wake of losing a beloved wife.
Sophie was safe. Their biggest problem was going to be dealing with the inevitable indignation when she was handed to someone as low in the court as himself.
Likely there’d be an outcry. Not that anyone other than Eloisa had any say in the matter.
“Are you sure you don’t want another drink, Liam?” Alec asked, rising to refill his glass.
“Some of us have to be mostly sober,” Liam said lazily from across the room. He was reading something his manservant had just handed him, sitting half propped on the great blackwood desk their father had used. He looked every inch the erl, decked out in black velvet and linen. The Inglewood ring glittered on his left hand, and the waistcoat beneath the long jacket was sewn with gray pearls and jet. Jeanne had even managed to tie his hair back with a black ribbon.