Chapter 24

MAB’S TEETH GRITTED together as Aunt áine personally escorted them down to where they would be having afternoon tea.

“Benedict really is very sweet, and I think that he is a very suitable choice, Tilly,” Aunt áine said.

“I’m so n-nervous,” Tilly whispered.

“I would think it odd if you were not, my dear. Mab will be close, should your nerves get the better of you. And Angus and I will be walking the gardens. Take your time, dear. And even if you only stay for a hello, that’s perfectly fine.”

Tilly nodded.

Mab had expected Aunt áine to direct them into one of the countless rooms downstairs, but they were instead brought out through the front door and escorted towards the walled garden. Mab had yet to find the time to venture into the walled garden and was surprised to see that nestled in the middle was a large palm house.

Its frame was an intricate lattice of wrought iron painted white. The autumnal sun glinted off its domed top, almost blinding Mab. A guard flicked a latch and opened the door for them to enter. The humidity in the air made it hard to breathe, but suffocation aside, the interior was breathtaking. Palms towered to the ceiling; ferns of all sizes covered the floor. Mab recognised a handful of carnivorous plants hanging from a balcony above her. The spiral staircase that led to the platform was engulfed in various climbers, with the most exquisite flowers Mab had ever seen. In the middle sat a crystal-clear pond, a small waterfall cascading into it. Butterflies of all shapes and sizes fluttered languidly about, their iridescent wings flashing in the sun like a kaleidoscope of colours. Two wrought-iron tables sat a generous distance apart, each laden with sandwiches, cakes and a pot of tea.

“I’ll leave you now, dear. But I’ll just be outside if you need me,” Aunt áine nodded in the direction of the door, where Angus now stood patiently.

Tilly nodded, and Aunt áine, offering her a final encouraging smile, left to join her husband.

Mab took the seat beside Tilly. She didn’t quite know what to say to the young girl that would help. So, instead, Mab asked, “What do you think his favourite cake will be?”

Tilly’s wide eyes rounded on Mab. “Pardon?”

“His favourite cake. My uncle and I came up with a theory. Would you like to know?”

Confused, Tilly nodded.

“If he goes for a sponge cake, he will be simple and reliable. If he goes for a fruit cake, he will be fun and eccentric. If he picks a tart, then he will be calm and conscientious.”

That had been a lie. In fact, the choices of cake had far less complimentary attributes attached to them. But Tilly didn’t need to know that.

Mab felt Tilly stiffen beside her. Following Tilly’s gaze, Mab saw the unmistakable forms of Benedict and William, escorted by a guard who appeared to be grinning from ear to ear, cross the garden.

Mab stood up, placing a reassuring hand on Tilly’s shoulder.

The guard took his place by the door and nodded at William and Benedict as they entered the palm house. While Benedict was doing his best to conceal his elated smile when his eyes met Tilly’s, William looked as if he were constipated. Both men bowed deeply.

“I’ll just be over here,” Mab said. She waited for Tilly to nod and then made her way over to the second table, William in tow.

Before Mab could stop herself, she’d already pulled her seat out and sat down, leaving William awkwardly hovering at her side having evidently assumed that he would be doing the gentlemanly thing and pulling out her chair.

Damn it, thought Mab. She was supposed to be flirting with him for information, not asserting her opinions on the frivolous traditions men were expected to do for women.

“Apologies,” Mab said. “I generally am not in the company of gentlemen and have become accustomed to pulling my own seat out.”

William’s lip twitched into a smile, and he mumbled something that Mab couldn’t quite make out over the sound of the waterfall. William settled into his own seat, picked up the pot of tea and gestured to Mab’s cup.

“Yes, thank you,” Mab said.

William poured Mab’s cup first and then his own. Mab cast a glance over to the young couple, who were sitting in silence, though it didn’t seem to be an awkward one. Benedict wore a comely smile on his face, and while he seemed interested in just basking in the greenery around him, his eyes flitted occasionally back to Tilly. Tilly sat staring into her cup of tea, but every time Benedict subtly glanced at her, her cheeks flushed. Benedict reached a hand out and gently took a cherry tart from the towering platter of cakes. Tilly’s lips twitched into a brief grin as she flicked her eyes towards Mab.

Calm and conscientious.

Exactly what Tilly needed.

Satisfied that her friend wasn’t feeling uncomfortable, Mab stole a glance at William. The humidity had caused his skin to flush, the pinkness only barely detectable under his bronze tone. What was very perceptible, however, was the trickle of sweat forming on his temple.

“Too hot?”

“Pardon?” William asked, turning his face to Mab. The instant his eyes met hers, Mab found herself at a loss for words. She noticed a handful of fresh knicks on his face from shaving. His eyes caught the light cascading through the domed glass ceiling, and Mab could have sworn his irises moved like molten bronze. She noted a small, almost imperceptible scar running the length of his left eyebrow.

“The air around us. Hot, is it not?” Mab said, finally finding her voice. She let her gaze fall to his hands and—

Were those scars? Yes, just as William raised his cup to his lips – his very soft-looking lips – the sun caught his skin and illuminated a series of linear scars criss-crossed over the top of his hands and fingers.

William set his cup down and uncomfortably tugged at the cuff of his shirt. This did nothing to hide his scarring, but the instant his hand was out of the direct ray of light, the scars faded into almost nothing.

“I had a strict, er, teacher, who enjoyed using the cane,” he said.

Mab pushed the image of a young boy with bleeding hands to the back of her mind. She was on a mission, and there was no room for sympathy.

“What was your favourite subject at school?” Mab asked. She would start with a nice, simple question, she thought, and build it up from there.

William seemed to shuffle uncomfortably. Finally, he answered, “I didn’t have one.”

“ Didn’t have one ?” Mab scoffed before she could stop herself. She really detested men at times. Did they not know how lucky they were to have the opportunity to go to school? Of course, her father had provided her with an excellent education, and she even had male teachers instead of a governess to provide her with a similar schooling to that of her male peers, but Mab was the outlier when it came to female education. The entirety of her female friends learned nothing more substantial than the things they needed to get by – languages and perhaps an instrument. None of them had the opportunity to study arithmetic, or history, or politics. And here he sat, unable to pluck a single subject from the wealth he had under his belt. It was infuriating.

“No. I didn’t enjoy my time at, er, school,” he answered. Clearly in a bid to change the topic, he added, “This is a rather wonderful place, is it not?”

Mab wasn’t sure if he was referring to the palm house or Aunt áine’s in general, so she said, “Yes. It is rather wonderful here. Not quite what I expected, though.” Then she boldly added, “Why are you here?”

“To chaperone,” William said carefully.

Mab struggled to control the urge to roll her eyes. “I meant here, at Aunt áine’s. You’re clearly from money,” she said, gesturing at his clothes, “and you’re handsome.” She immediately cringed. She had “handsome” out of her before she could stop herself. Then she remembered that she was, in fact, purposefully trying to flirt with the man for information. She added, “What need have you for Aunt áine’s services?”

William’s lips tugged into a smile. “You think I’m handsome?”

Mab’s heart fluttered. How was he doing this to her?

“Objectively,” she said. “And you haven’t answered my question.”

William thought carefully for a moment. “How about a question for a question?” he finally said. “If I can go first,” he added, the corner of his lips pulling into a wicked grin.

Mab bit her lip. She glanced over at the young couple. Benedict was now pointing at various plants, while Tilly sipped at her tea and stared intensely into his face. While Mab was happy for them, she’d soon run out of time if she didn’t move the questioning along. “Fine,” she said.

“ You are clearly from money, and you are very, very beautiful.” Mab almost choked on her tea, causing William’s grin to widen. “Why are you here at Aunt áine’s?”

Mab usually hated it when someone used her own words against her. But she couldn’t help but feel a trifle triumphant that he thought she was beautiful. Not just beautiful ... very, very beautiful. Mab had to pull herself together if she was going to get any useful information from this man. In a stroke of genius, she decided to be brutally honest with him. Hopefully, if there was any justice in the world, he would mirror her directness.

“I never wanted to marry. My father supported that decision ... until he didn’t. He accepted the first recent marriage proposal on my behalf. Mr Robert Alabaster.” Mab spat out his name ... and then regretted it. She wasn’t supposed to give away her identity, after all. She quickly continued, “He was a despicable man, from what little I saw of him. And so, I let myself be caught in a rather compromising position with the stable master.”

“You ruined a man’s livelihood,” William said, and Mab’s heart plummeted as he shuffled uncomfortably away from her.

How dare he, the man who was potentially plotting the demise of his own brother, make her out to be the villain!

“He did a perfectly good job of that on his own. It wasn’t the first tumble I’d had with him. And when I found him stealing my mother’s heirlooms, he threatened to reveal my indiscretions to the world should I tell. It just so happened that I had the opportunity to beat him at his own game.”

As William mulled her revelation over, she felt suddenly very vulnerable. She had the thought that being too honest might backfire on her. Though, by revealing her lack of virtue, it would hopefully make him think with a certain other organ. If he thought he might be in with a chance of a tumble, he’d hopefully have too little blood in his brain to ponder why she was interrogating him. The seconds stretched on, and eventually she asked, “And why are you here?”

William met her eyes, then looked into his cup of tea. “Money,” he said quietly .

“Money?” Mab asked, stunned that her plan had worked.

“Yes. I have none. This is my last-ditch attempt to save my estate,” he said to his cup.

It was Mab’s turn to mull his comment over. Money would be the perfect motive to want to usurp his brother for his title. He’d obviously been desperate enough to come to Aunt áine’s to fortune hunt. But if a better prospect, such as the one Charles had alluded to, were to fall onto his lap, would he take it?

“Do you—” Mab started, but William cut her off.

“I think it was my turn for a question.”

Mab couldn’t help but smile. Most gentlemen would, at least at the beginning, indulge ladies on their whims and certainly wouldn’t cut them off mid-sentence. She made a gesture for him to continue.

“What are you looking for in a husband?” he asked.

“I haven’t quite decided,” Mab answered honestly. “I think I should like someone kind, honest, with morale, and one who embodies the man in gentleman.”

William suppressed a laugh at her proclamation.

“What is so funny?” Mab snapped.

“Nothing!” William said. “You just reminded me of something that someone said to me a very long time ago.”

Not having an appropriate response, Mab said, “It is my turn for a question. What is your family like?”

William straightened, caught off-guard by her question. This is it , thought Mab. If he said anything remotely along the lines of being jealous of his brother, she would have her answer.

“I do not have one,” he replied, not meeting her eye.

Liar , thought Mab.

“Everyone has a family,” Mab said.

William took a deep breath. “My mother died in childbirth,” he said quietly. “My father died on my nineteenth birthday. I have a sister,” he said, finally looking at Mab. “She married young, but I haven’t had word from her in a decade and a half.”

“Just a sister? No brothers?” Mab asked boldly.

William broke their gaze and stared down at his cup of tea again. “I do not have a brother.”

Liar, liar!

Before Mab could ask another question, an excited squeal made her snap her head towards the young couple. Tilly, wearing the brightest smile Mab had ever seen, looked in awe and wonder at the massive swallowtail butterfly that had settled itself squarely on Benedict’s face.

“They make a sweet couple, do they not?” William asked.

“They do,” Mab replied. Benedict did seem to be a gentle soul, which was what Tilly wanted for her match. She wondered how such a kind soul as Benedict could be involved with someone as cold and calculating as Mr William Blackwater.