Page 30 of Rook of Ruin
Simon thumbs the blade of grass in his hands. “No, the one who kissed your hand the day we met.”
“Paul?” I laugh.
“I mean, I don’t know his name. You two just seemclose.” Simon turns his head to look at me, and I feel his brown eyes on my face as I stare at the sky.
“I love him. Notin love with, just love. He’s my friend, my family. I really like his boyfriend—he might be Paul’s one. You know, soulmate. Did it look like we were in love?”
He studies me. “You could have been. You could have been lovers, for all I knew.”
“Would it matter if we were?” I raise my eyebrow at him.
“No. Honestly, I don’t think it would.” Simon moves his head back towards the sky and pulls his cap over his face.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I squint but he doesn’t reply. I quickly move the strawberries and cream and pull the cap off his face. “I said, what is that supposed to mean?”
Two dimples and white teeth greet my glare. He raises his arm and wraps it around my waist, then he moves me so my head is lying on his chest. His cap goes back over his face. We lie there in comfortable silence, and I fall asleep letting the warm sun and the warm man beneath me make my heart smile.
Cool rain begins to pour from the sky as Simon hands the reins over to a groom and jumps out of the carriage. I grab my books from the bench before Simon reaches into the carriage and picks me up. I laugh when he swings me around and sets me down. We both make a run for the castle, but in my heeled shoes, I trip and land in a large pile of mud. Luckily, the books are intact, only damp, but from my feet to my waist, my cream dress is covered in mud. Simon roars with laughter, and his large hand comes down to lift me up, rain pelting down upon us. I join him in his joyous laughter and stand. When I pull up my feet, there’s a sucking noise, and my shoes are lost to the mud, my bare feet now stuck. Simon grabs my shoes, our eyes catching, grinning at each other like children. He scoops me up and runs into the castle, slinging mud wherever we go. The servants we see either glare with annoyance from the mud or look like they have stumbled upon a juicy rumor.
We are still laughing and Simon is still holding me when we get to my chamber door to see Alec pacing in front of it, his usual brown leathers back on, and his hair pulled into a tight low bun.
He looks me over, and for a moment, concern flashes in his eyes. “Are you hurt?”
Simon sets me down. I feel like I was just caught doing something wrong, but I laugh, diffusing any tension. “No, just very muddy.” I lift my wet skirt to show my bare feet and the mud dripping off my legs onto the floor.
I quickly open my chamber door, drop the damp books off on my nightstand, and run into the bathroom to clean up. When I’m as clean as I can be without fully changing, I walk back out into the sitting room.
“Where’s Simon?”
Alec frowns. “Not here.”
“I can see that. I didn’t think he was hiding.” Rolling my eyes, I notice Alec made a fire to warm up the room. He pours whiskeyinto two glasses from a decanter that Patsy must have put out on the table next to my favorite couch. I stand next to him as he shoves the whiskey in my face.
“Thank you.” I take a sip, and it burns my throat.
“Where were you?” I frown at the way he says it, almost accusatory, and I do not reply. He narrows his eyes. “Are you ignoring me?”
“I’m well versed in the art of ignoring you. If you want an answer, you will use your manners like a gentleman.”
His lips twitch, but through clenched teeth, he says, “Please, Orlaith, tell me where you were.”
I tilt my head in acceptance. “I went on a carriage ride with Simon. Did Patsy not tell you?”
“No, I haven’t seen her.” A slight frown forms on his handsome face.
“Ah, okay. Well why didn’t you let yourself in?”
He gives me an incredulous look. “You should know better. This isn’t the Locker. Men and women can’t intermingle like they do in the barracks—men don’t just go into rooms without being invited.” Alec takes a long drink. “Were you two alone?”
“Yes.” I shrug.
“You shouldn’t be. You’re out for the season.”
I motion my hands between us. “Weare alone.”
Alec’s frown deepens. “We shouldn’t be.”
“But we are. So if you think it’s such a bad idea, leave.” I squint at him and say it again, more slowly, and point towards the door. I gulp down my whiskey, march into my room, grab my books, and stomp back into the sitting room. Alec is still standing in what I imagine will become his usual spot next to the fireplace. The books are damp, but thankfully not wet. I set the books upright on the coffee table towards the fire.
