The Knight; His secret author

Making plans

*Knightley*

I once considered love to be paradise. Now it's hell, plaguing me whenever I'm in the vicinity of Althea. Plaguing me even when I'm not.

I know that to win, sacrifices are often required. However, bloody hell, the ones Althea and I have been forced to make are too damned much.

Tonight, I wait until the first notes for the waltz strike before I approach her and offer my arm. Her lukewarm smile is far better than the icier ones she has been bestowing upon me. I wonder what it might take to be the recipient of the one that always lightened my steps and my heart when in its presence. She is no doubt reserving them all for Chidding. As it should be.

Still, it doesn't mean I'm not experiencing a touch of envy. Although at least she isn't striving to undo my neckcloth with her eyes.

“How are you getting on with the puppy?”

Her face softens as I hoped it would. “Dare I admit that a certain girl was in need of a pet now rather than when she turned six? They have become fast friends.”

“Well, I did have an advantage in determining that might be the case. From the moment she and I met, it was all that was spoken of. I don’t suppose she’s asked after me.” I say.

“Every single day.” She admits.

I tilt my head slightly, “What do you tell her?”

“That you’re an extremely busy man.” She says.

“I could make time.” I point out

She shakes her head, “I don’t think it would be wise.”

I nod in understanding. With Althea's marriage, the girl would acquire a father, and it wouldn't be in Ari's best interest for me to interfere, as I might very well be tempted to do.

Although a good many people are enjoying this dance, we never stay long in the vicinity of anyone for even snippets of a conversation to be heard. However, I do glance around to ensure no one seems to be paying attention to us before I say, “If only three people know the truth of She-wolf, I should think the author is safe from Brumsberry’s machinations.”

She nods. “I should hope so, but he does seem rather determined to see me ruined. I have often wondered if I had been the legitimate one and he not, if I would have hated him as he does me. All I have ever felt is a measure of sadness and loss that we couldn’t at least have tolerated each other. And I have regretted having no relationship with the Alpha’s other daughters. I suspect they might be around here somewhere, but I have never met them.”

“You were playing cards with one of them the other night at the Twin Wolves.”

Aware of her losing her footing as her eyes widen, I hold her more tightly, steadying her without my own steps faltering.

“Not Miss Leticia, surely?”

Based on the tone of her question, I get the impression she rather likes the she-wolf. “No. Luna Warburton.”

“I suppose she married while I was away. My father never mentioned her new name. However, she gave me a heated look every time I won. I assumed she was simply a sore loser. But why would she sit at the table? I was there first.” She mumbles.

“Maybe she didn’t recognize you either.” I suggest.

“The dealer called me by name. Why didn’t she leave in a huff once she knew who I was? I wonder if she was spying for Brumsberry.” She sighs. “I don’t know if I’ll ever become accustomed to being disliked for something that wasn’t my fault.”

“It’s not an easy thing with which to deal, to be sure, but I find it helps to recognize that the shortcoming is in the person who has no valid reason for the disliking.”

She tips her head slightly. “I recall your father didn’t favor you.”

“Can’t stomach the sight of me.”

“Because you’re a reminder of the son he lost?” She asks.

“Among other things.” Things I'm not going to discuss with her. “As people are seeing us conversing more than we did the last time we danced, I think we may be off to a good start with our scheme. In order to make our reconciliation more believable, we should probably make an appearance together at the park.”

She shakes her head, “I’m not sure that’s really necessary.”

“Are you willing to risk it, Allie? Where’s the harm in one afternoon where many will view us together?”

She rolls her eyes in obvious frustration. “Very well.”

“Excellent. Why don’t you have your driver deliver you to my residence tomorrow afternoon? Dress appropriately for a ride. I’ll have a horse ready for you.”

“And one for my maid, Millie. She’ll be serving as chaperone.” She says.

I raise a brow, “Your maid rides?”

“She was raised on a farm, and I have never objected to her taking a horse out for a trot now and again.” She tells me.

The music fades, and we slow to a stop.

“Any particular time?” she asks.

“Whenever it is convenient for you.”

After escorting her to the edge of the dance floor, I walk away feeling triumphant, a condemned man who has just been granted a reprieve.