Page 12 of Within the Hollow Heart

His protestations fell flat. He should have known she would find out. Maybe he had known she would, in truth, though he would have thought it might take a bit longer than a single day.

“It’s public record,” she reminded him. “Anyone can see it.”

“Anyone who looks. And why were you looking? No one reads the records filed with chancery.” He narrowed his gaze. “Did Gideon tell you?”

“How I found out is beside the point. What are you thinking?”

He leaned on a small table near the wall. “What’s so wrong with it? You think I’m so unfit that I couldn’t please a sweet, gentle-mannered lady? That I deserve someone hideous and uncouth?”

“Sweet?” Tone incredulous, Etta lifted her hands to the room as if displaying his statement as evidence. “You clearly know nothing of her at all. Jules has never been one to trifle with. But that’s not the issue.” Her hands dropped, and she took a calming breath. “She’s a stranger to you. She does not belong in your world. It’s a bad match, Nickolas, and you know it. Have things become so desperate—”

He straightened. “Don’t. Don’t pretend you understand what it’s like to need a match. You, who spent your entire existence determined to do everything on your own. Honestly, Antonetta. I’m offended.” He met her gaze. “I know I’m not good enough for her. I’m certain she knows it as well. Our agreement is temporary. That’s all. Just to keep…” He sighed and slumped against the table once more. He was a grown man; he could not bring himself to sayto keep my mother at bay. “I was caught in Lady Carvell’s room. Her father meant to force my hand, and Jules saved me. Nothing more. I’ll leave her be, just as soon as I’m able.”

Etta flopped down on a bench, fingertips pressing to her temples. “Carvell? Saints, Nickolas, what have you done?”

Lips pressing down, he said, “The usual, I suspect.” The thing everyone expected of him. The worst, most rakish and irresponsible thing. He let out a long breath. “I’ll make it right with Jules. Then I will leave her alone. I swear it.”

CHAPTER7

After being accosted by both his mother and Antonetta, Nickolas had sent a missive to Jules to arrange their meeting for the following day—at a lesser-used entrance near the mews instead of anywhere they might easily be seen. The Filmore family library, it turned out, was not inside the castle at all but at a private estate near the far walls of the kingdom. It explained why Jules had not been able to secure her own invitation. Their caper—for that was somehow what it felt like—would occupy the entire day.

The early-morning sun was bright and warm and making Nickolas feel quite impatient as he waited for Jules’s arrival near the massive stone archway outside the castle. He examined the toe of a boot, straightened his vest for the dozenth time, then forced his hands into his pockets. A fine script was carved into the stone beneath his feet, a motto of the kingdom:Within these walls, justice. He’d been taught it as a boy and recited it so often that the words barely meant anything at all. Now he wondered what the motto might mean regarding what waited outside of the kingdom walls.

It had not seemed to keep the fae from attempting to meddle in kingdom affairs. Rivenwilde and its prince were the greatest threat to the kingdom’s safety. The desire to deliver justice upon the fae had driven Etta to become marshal. It was also the reason so many Westrende officials had been removed from their posts.

When Nickolas glanced up, Jules was finally walking toward him, her slight form fitted into a dark-gray gown nearly identical to the shade of her bird.

Nickolas’s restlessness immediately ceased. She had brought the bird. To visit a library.

Her eyes were on him, watchful.

He dipped into a bow. “My lady Jules.” To the bird, he said, “Frederick.”

“I hope you don’t mind,” she said. “I cannot leave him alone, and Robert and Tobias were occupied.”

“Not at all.” Just beyond the entrance and down a short set of stairs, their carriage waited. There, Nickolas would be trapped inside a confined space for the better part of an hour. With a bird. He cleared his throat. “Any friend of yours and all that.” He held out an arm, forcing his gaze away from her bare neck, revealed by hair that was swept up into an intricate knot. A gold chain rested against her skin, whatever hung from it hidden where it dipped into the bodice of her gown. He glanced determinedly toward the sky. “Should be a lovely ride. We have the weather for it.”

She made a small hum of agreement.

When they reached the carriage, Nickolas took the cage, Frederick’s dark bird-eyes on him as Nickolas climbed in to secure the wire contraption to one of the bench seats. He’d meant to go back for Jules, but she took the footman’s hand and stepped up after Nickolas, forcing him backward into a seat. She did not use the bench holding the cage but instead slid in beside Nickolas. He straightened, drawing himself against the wall so that she might have more room. The faint scent of violets rose from her, along with a trace of something that he could not quite make out. Nickolas resisted the urge to lean closer. He was all but pressed against her as it was.

Across the carriage, Frederick glared.

The footman closed the door, and in short order, the carriage juddered to a start. The sound of hoofbeats on cobblestones fell into a rhythm, and Nickolas eased against the cushioned seat back. Outside the window, men on horseback shifted in the shadows of narrow passages, watching the elaborate conveyance roll by. Their gazes slid away one by one at Nickolas’s attention.

“What is it that so unsettles you?” Jules asked, drawing his focus from the men. At Nickolas’s look, she gestured toward the cage. “About birds.”

He regarded Frederick. “Must I have some tangible reason? A horrific accident as a boy or traumatic history involving the creatures that prevents me from enjoying their company? Some very specific incident that tortures me to this day?”

She watched him.

“I do not.” He attempted to cross his arms, brushed an elbow against Jules, then dropped his hands to his lap. It should have been enough that the creatures were unsettling. Frederick, in fact, took the act to another level. His eyes were black but not at all hollow. Intelligent, dark, and… oddly judgmental. Focused too sharply on one particular person. Nickolas shuddered. “I reserve my right to the opinion.”

Jules’s face turned toward the window but not before he’d seen the way she bit her lip.

“What is so great about birds, in any case? Of all the pets from which to choose, why a feathered—” He caught himself before an expletive escaped, then cleared his throat.

She chuckled. “That is a considerable dislike you possess, my lord.”

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