Page 96 of Disenchanted
Our hall clock chimed the hour of two before we were divested of our ballroom finery and in our nightgowns. After seeing Em and my sisters tucked in for the night, I retired to my own bedchamber. Even as exhausted as I was, I could not settle enough to sleep, my mind too full. I still could not believe out of all the women at that ball, Prince Florian had singled me out to be his bride. I prayed that Mal was right about the effect of that much pixie dust on the brain and by morning, that dolt Florian would forget he had ever met me. As for Ryland, the prince indisguise who had once won my heart, I hoped I could finally forget him.
Attending the royal ball had only left me with more questions about my parents’ history, and then there was King August’s strange reaction to me. Would I ever be able to learn the truth behind all of that? I fretted. I took down my hair and sought to calm myself by rhythmically brushing out the tangles, but I still felt like a pocket watch wound too tight.
Pacing over to my window, I opened it and perched upon the sill, allowing the cool night breeze to fan my cheeks. Coaches lumbered past in the street below as one by one, Midtown families straggled home from the ball. None of the carriages stopped at the Hansons’ door. I worried about the fate of Ivy and Myrtle, their brothers, Fortescue Bafton and all of the other Midtown boys who had been arrested after the melee.
But I worried even more about Horatio. Our king had an unpredictable, vindictive nature. Even though Horatio was a Scutcheon commander, would his rank be enough to protect him if he angered His Majesty by trying to thwart August’s cruel laws? Why had I not thought of this when I had begged Horatio to intervene on Myrtle’s behalf? I regretted I had ever done so as the returning coaches became fewer and fewer until the street stood silent and empty.
The Hanson household remained shuttered and dark. There was no sign of Horatio either. He had to pass by this way to return to the garrison, but it was possible I had missed his return to town when I had been helping my sisters prepare for bed. I comforted myself with the thought of his promise to call upon me in the morning to let me know how everything had turned out. I had to believe that nothing would prevent him from doing that. Horatio Crushington was not the sort of man to make promises lightly.
A glance at my bedchamber clock warned me that the first light of dawn would be breaking soon. I needed to try to snatch a few hours’ sleep. The grand ball that had so disrupted our lives was over and I would need to return to my workaday world and more practical considerations. Like what I could serve for dinner tomorrow besides another pot of stewed eel and how I was going to stretch what remained of our funds until next quarter day.
I shifted off the windowsill, rubbing my hip, sore and stiff from perching on the hard wood. I was just about to snuff out my candle when I heard the clatter of a horse’s hooves upon the cobblestone street. Leaning out the window, I saw a lone rider approach from the direction of the Heights. My heart soared with relief as I recognized Horatio’s stalwart frame, tall and upright in the saddle.
He slowed Loyal to a walk as he neared my house. Glancing toward my house, he reined the gelding to a halt. Horatio could likely see me better than I could him. Framed in my window, I was illuminated by the candle I was holding. Despite the flickering light from the streetlamps, Horatio’s features were lost in shadow.
But I could discern when he nodded his head to reassure me all was well. Then he lifted his hand to his brow and snapped off a sharp salute, a rather playful gesture for the solemn commander. I grinned and waved back at him. Before he could ride off, I launched into a series of hand motions, pointing downward, moving two fingers to simulate walking, followed by a frantic beckoning.
He craned his neck to see me, and I was afraid he would not comprehend the meaning behind all my impulsive gestures. But understanding must have dawned upon him, and he dismounted, looping Loyal’s reins about one of the fence’s posts. I was not sure why he had bothered. I could not imagine anything short of a roaring fire would ever induce that horseto stray far from his master’s side. Perhaps Horatio was more concerned that Loyal would attempt to follow him through the gate.
The hinges creaked loudly as Horatio entered my front garden. At the same moment, a low moan issued from Em’s bedchamber next to mine, indicating that my stepmother was also passing a restless night. Being reunited with her old beau had left Em in a flustered, excited state. I cringed at the thought of waking her, imagining Em bursting into my room, demanding to know what I was doing. Trysting with Horatio Crushington at such an indecent hour, clad only in my nightgown! I could hardly explain the impulse that had come over me, even to myself.
All I knew was the way my heart quickened as Horatio picked his way through the wild tangle of my roses to stand beneath my window. Before he could call out to me, I placed a cautioning finger to my lips. Gesturing, I managed to convey to him that he should meet me in the back garden.
I closed my window and doused the candle. My childhood nocturnal adventures with Mal had gifted me with the ability to sneak through the dark house, stealthily and silently. I tiptoed through the upper hall and down the stairs, still remembering to avoid the boards that creaked. Ducking into the drawing room, I found my old shawl that I had left discarded on the settee. I draped it around my shoulders to maintain some semblance of modesty and then I slipped quietly out of the double doors.
Horatio was already there, his tall form a looming shadow beneath the pergola. I hastened toward him, my bare feet whispering through the damp grass. If my blistered heel still bothered me, I was hardly aware of it. My steps grew quicker, and I was nearly running as I closed the distance between us. I drew up short at the last moment, keenly aware of howdisheveled I must look, dressed in my worn, much mended nightgown, my hair tumbling wildly about my shoulders.
The sky had lightened to a deep grey the same hue as Horatio’s eyes. He looked exhausted, the bruise on his cheek that he had sustained during the fight more prominent. But his entire face lit up at the sight of me.
Seized by a rare attack of shyness, I felt my cheeks warm. Before I could speak, Horatio said, “I should not be disturbing you at such an unreasonable hour, Ella.”
I smiled ruefully. “I am the one doing the disturbing. You look so tired, I should have allowed you to return to the garrison, but I was so anxious to hear the news.”
“Of course.” Horatio offered me a reassuring smile. “You need fret no longer. The Hansons and our other Midtown citizens will be obliged to spend another uncomfortable night in the King’s Royal Prison until they have paid a hefty fine, but then they will be released. It took a great deal of arguing and persuading on my part, but Sidney Greenleaf has given his word that he will intercede with the king.”
“And you trust Mercato? You are on such good terms with that wizard?” I asked in a troubled voice.
“I would not exactly call it good terms. But we seem to have developed a grudging respect for one another. This may be hard for you to believe, Ella, but Sidney— that is, Mercato can be reasonable if it does not jeopardize his own position. I convinced him that obtaining a pardon for the arrested Midtown citizens will enhance Sidney’s reputation as a man of power and earn him the gratitude of all of Midtown.”
“Humph!” I said indignantly. “You are the one they should all be grateful to. The Great Mercato would not have lifted a finger to help anyone if you had not intervened. The Hansons, especially, should get down upon their knees to thank you.”
“The fairies forfend! I don’t want their thanks or their gratitude.” Horatio paused. His jaw worked, like a man wrestling with some momentous decision or trying to summon his courage. That was surely a ridiculous supposition on my part because Horatio had to be one of the bravest men I had ever known.
But when his eyes met mine, I had never seen him look so anxious or vulnerable as he said, “I have to admit I was thinking only of you when I leapt to the Hansons’ defense.”
“Me?” I asked, astonished.
“From the first of our acquaintance, you saw me a harsh, rigid kind of man. I fear perhaps you still might do so at times.” Horatio flushed with embarrassment. “You will think me a great fool, but I wanted to play the role of hero before you.”
I gave an incredulous laugh. “Oh, Horatio, you never have to play at that. You are already a hero in my eyes. You rescued me from that villain Iggy Burt, remember? You saved my sister from disgrace. But I am flattered you value my opinion of you so highly.”
“Why would I not?” He stepped closer and gathered up my hand, drawing it close to the region of his heart. “I love you.”
My jaw dropped. It was not as though I was unaware of Horatio’s feelings for me. At one time, I had even dreaded him making such a declaration. But it was the way that he said it. I love you. So simply, so quietly, so sincerely. My heart raced wildly. I could scarce breathe, let alone speak.
I was silent so long that Horatio’s face fell. “I am sorry. I spoke too soon. I knew I should have waited, given you time to know me better, but I am finding it more and more difficult to restrain myself when I am near you. But I should have. I am sorry if I have offended you.”
He started to release my hand.
