Page 4 of Within the Hollow Heart

Saints but Nickolas hated that man. “Lord Carvell,” Nickolas said with no inclination of his head. “You’ll forgive me if I’m not forthcoming with delight at your arrival.”

The woman dug an elbow into Nickolas’s side. “Because, understandably, we expected the privacy I was promised,” she said with a meaningful gaze at the men—a gaze that clearly no one present understood the meaning of at all.

Nickolas cleared his throat to speak, but Lord Carvell, evidently done with the baffling midnight games, jabbed a finger toward Nickolas and barked, “That man is going to walk to my study to sign a contract this instant or be hauled to a dungeon cell to await his trial!”

“A contract?” the woman asked brightly. “Whatever for? You know I love contracts, Lord Carvell. You must tell me. I insist. Don’t make me wake the chancellor to find out.”

The expression on Carvell’s face went hard, his tone final. “Lord Brigham is about to marry my daughter.”

The laughter came again, impossible amidst the crowd of stern men and still statues. Nickolas had the sense that if the woman’s hand were not occupied cradling a sickly bird, it would have gone to her midsection so she might double over with mirth. “He couldn’t possibly,” she said with a too-genuine smile.

“Why is that?” Carvell bit out.

“Because.” She gazed up at Nickolas. “He’s already engaged to me.”

CHAPTER3

Nickolas gaped at the woman beside him.Engaged, she’d said.Chancery, she’d said. By the wall, he had no idea who the creature even was.

He wondered if that had truly been what he’d agreed to—a marriage with her. He shook off the thought before it could take root, because surely anyone, bird-toting stranger or no, was preferable to a Carvell.

Except he didn’t even know her name. He would have liked at the very least to have her name. It was probably an adorable one, something short and cute.

“Brigham!” Carvell snapped, apparently not for the first time.

Nickolas’s baffled gaze met his.

“Are you going to stand there and gawp at this woman while she speaks for you?”

Nickolas’s palm had somehow found its way to rest over his heart. His other hand was tucked neatly against his middle. The arm it was attached to, beneath nothing but a thin shirt, was still latched to the woman in question. He wasn’t certain who had possession of his jacket, only that it wasn’t him.

“Nickolas,” Carvell demanded.

Washe going to let her speak for him? To lay out such a blatant deception to save his skin? Nickolas blinked. “Yes, my lord, I believe I am.”

The other man’s face flamed, every exposed inch of him twitching with fury. “You will beg off this arrangement and marry my daughter this instant.”

Beside Nickolas, the woman lifted a shoulder. “We’ve already filed the paperwork. You’ll have to take it up with the magistrate, I’m afraid.” On the surface, her tone was conciliatory, but something in it made clear that the woman meant to crush not only Carvell’s plans for a marriage but for the arrest as well. She had connections, apparently, and she was not afraid to use them.

Carvell scoffed, his fiery glare darting between the faces of the woman and Nickolas. He noted their posture, the way her slender arm rested possessively inside the crook of Nickolas’s elbow. His eyes narrowed. “Lady Brigham would never allow it.”

He was right, entirely. Nickolas had no clue who the woman truly was, but her plain dress alone would be enough to cross her off his mother’s list. It didn’t stop him from clinging to her as his last hope.

The woman gazed up at Nickolas adoringly. The rapid clip of his pulse stuttered.

“Of course,” she said in a soft voice. “Which is why we have kept it a secret.” When she turned the force of her gaze back to Carvell, her tone was sharp. “Indeed, my lord, it seems best that you keep our news tucked safely near your chest, lest anyone discover what’s happened here tonight. As you may recall, even the magistrate was in earshot when you granted permission for my use of this garden. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I believe my dear Fredrick deserves a more peaceful courtyard for his home.” Her lips tilted consideringly. “Perhaps Lord Keller’s garden.”

“Yes,” Nickolas heard himself say, recalling that Keller was Lord Carvell’s greatest rival. The woman glanced back at him, and Nickolas cleared his throat then shook free of whatever foolishness had come over him to focus on Carvell. “It has ponds.”

The statement was both a cut and a threat, and with it, Nickolas reached down to retrieve the mangled cage, then he dipped his head to the unknown lady to indicate he was ready to depart. Without another word, they strode from the courtyard of a sputtering Carvell.

* * *

The pair madeit through a dozen castle corridors before reason returned. Nickolas—disheveled and toting a metal cage—and a small woman cradling a dismal bird were rushing through the halls of Westrende as if they’d not just evaded his arrest and announced a betrothal. “Where are we going?”

The woman didn’t even spare him a glance. “Your rooms.”

She was pulled to a stop as his steps froze, and Nickolas became aware that he still had hold of her. He let go his grip to straighten his shirt and remove a thorn from his sleeve. The bird fluttered a wing.

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