Wrexham smirked as he strolled toward me down the wide, carpeted corridor, looking distractingly enticing in a fitted dark green morning jacket, silver waistcoat, and soft-looking gray trousers that clung neatly to his long legs. “I’m surprised you didn’t simply stand in one place and start banging on a set of pots and pans until he emerged.”
“Give me credit for some discretion, if you please.” I rolled my eyes even as I moved forward to run my hands firmly across that silver waistcoat. There had to be some advantages to being discovered by him in a deserted corridor, after all. I slid my arms up around his neck and narrowed my eyes at him admonishingly as I pressed myself fully against his deliciously lean, strong figure. “I don’t often carry on sensitive discussions in full view of an entire house party, you know.”
“Not too often,” Wrexham agreed, and closed his arms around me, leaning down to nuzzle against my hair. His warm breath chased against the back of my neck as his soft hair slid against my cheek, sending shivers down my skin. “How long do we have to wait until the wedding, exactly?”
“Amy says she can have it planned within two months.” I closed my eyes, breathing him in with every fiber of my being. “It couldn’t be much longer than that, anyway, or we’d have to wait until after their baby is born.”
“No more waiting,” Wrexham said fervently. “We should never have waited so long in the first place.”
I grimaced as the eager warmth inside me drained away. “You know why I wanted to wait last time.” I’d been adamant that we would start our marriage as full equals; that both of us would have established public positions as noted magicians before we ever spoke our wedding vows.
I’d tried so hard to ensure that no one would ever be able to make the sorts of assumptions about me—about us—that I’d heard spoken aloud in Lady Cosgrave’s drawing room only last night.
Of course, more than one person would say it now when they heard the news, whether or not I was there to hear it.
It was not a happy thought. Gritting my teeth, I lowered my face to hide my expression.
Wrexham dipped his own head low to catch my gaze. “Harwood,” he said firmly. “You know we’re equal partners in every way. It doesn’t matter what any ignorant strangers imagine!”
“I know.” I sighed. It wasn’t Wrexham’s fault, at least; I knew that much. So I stroked one hand over his warm, smooth-shaven cheek in an apologetic caress before I detached myself again, more firmly this time. “But we won’t be able to be married at all if we don’t sort out this problem first. And we’ll never be able to do that if I can’t—”
“Good God, will no one ever grant me a single moment of peace and quiet?!” The closest door flew open with a crash, revealing a young man with wild, un-brushed blond hair that stood out around his face like a lion’s mane, and without so much as a vest or a cravat to cover his un-tucked, nearly transparent cotton shirt. “Will I never be allowed to focus in this blasted hellhole?”
Satisfaction rippled through me.
I put on my most gracious smile as I stepped unhurriedly away from Wrexham. “Mr. Luton, I presume?”
“Bah!” He slammed the door shut on both of us. A moment later, I heard the telltale sound of a deadbolt locking into place.
“Time to get out the pots and pans?” Wrexham suggested wryly.
“Hardly,” I said. “I have something far more useful.” Turning, I gave him a smirk. “You see, I have an officer of the Boudiccate at my side...and I know exactly what to do with him.”
It was the work of a moment for Wrexham to spell free the lock. The door swung open a moment later, revealing a room full of chaos, with scattered papers, garments, handkerchiefs, and more covering the floor like a carpet, and Mr. Luton at the end of it all, pacing agitatedly back and forth before his un-curtained window. He stopped in mid-stride to stare at us as I strode into the room and Wrexham gently closed the door behind us.
“What the hell do you two think you’re about? If you think you can march into a man’s private property—”
“Lady Cosgrave’s private property, actually,” I said, “and she won’t be happy when she discovers what your work’s done to her political negotiations.”
“What?” He shook his head impatiently. “Never mind. Just get out! If I don’t get a handle on this soon—”
“Lost control of the spell, have you?” Wrexham wandered into the center of the room, inspecting the assorted elements with an apparently casual interest. His gaze passed idly across a pile of undergarments and books.
A stranger would never have been able to pinpoint the moment when he found exactly what he was looking for. But I’d been reading Wrexham’s expressions for years.
Luton gave a furious start as Wrexham plucked a single piece of paper from the pile. “Don’t you dare touch my notes, you Philistine!”
“‘The process of bringing about unnatural snow,’” Wrexham read aloud. His eyebrows rose slightly as he read silently down the rest of the page. “Interesting. I wouldn’t have guessed at some of these...”
“You ignorant ass! You have no idea what you’re talking about. Bloody typical establishment arrogance! Here.” Holding out a peremptory hand, Luton snapped out a spell I recognized—but the paper didn’t budge from Wrexham’s fingers. Instead, as Wrexham continued to read the page with calm concentration, the backfire from Luton’s spell sent the younger man skidding backward across the cluttered floor.
He had to catch himself on the windowsill behind him...and I didn’t even try to restrain my smug smile as I watched him struggle to recapture his balance while staring at Wrexham with open shock.
So much for condescending to my fiancé!
Unlike some magicians, Wrexham had never bothered to brag about his abilities. He didn’t need to. Unlike Luton, he hadn’t had a wealthy family to buy his way into the Great Library—only his own fierce talent and ambition, which had won him his deserved place over other men who were far higher-born and better-connected.
And it was remarkably satisfying to watch Luton take in the full force of his misconceptions.
But the shock on the younger man’s face didn’t last for long. He scowled as he righted himself, releasing the windowsill with a low growl. “Damn it! Wrack—Wreck—whatever the hell your name is—I’m in the midst of the most important work of my life! Can’t you see that?” He braced himself like a bull, shoulders lowered, preparing to rush forward for a physical attack. “You may be too stodgy-headed to understand, but if you don’t let me finish without any more interruptions—”
“Not a chance,” I said firmly as Luton slammed into an invisible wall several inches from my fiancé and went crashing to the ground. “Trust me,” I told him, stepping forward to look down on his prone figure, “I don’t care for the one elf-lord I’ve met any more than I care for you on first acquaintance—but we still can’t allow you to break our treaty. It’s kept this nation and our people safe for centuries, and we will not stand by while one arrogant boy breaks it for his own selfish reasons.”