Page 24 of Heir of Uncertain Magic

A little bit of the tension in his chest untwined. Merritt picked up her hand and kissed her second knuckle. “Five it is.”

Hulda, having decided to be brave, agreed to the ice-skating when Merritt returned for her. They had never really done anything pertaining to routine courtship, unless one considered fighting for one’s life in a dank basement routine courtship. No man had ever bothered to court her before. She’d never been asked to a dance, or to dinner, or even on a carriage ride. And thus the idea of ice-skating seemed very romantic, even if Hulda was wildly out of practice.

However, once they arrived at the large, she dared saypharaonic, pond already crowded with several dozen people—none were Myra, for she’d gotten into the habit of checking whenever she was out—and Hulda strapped on the skates Merritt had collected for her, she realized the horrible mistake she had made.

She was going to make a buffoon of herself.

Merritt grasped her elbows as she stood. “Easy. Just walk normally.”

His warmth somehow seeped through her coat, chasing away some of the November chill. The sun had set, and twilight was half-faded away, but tall lamps around the pond—all enchanted by a German conjurist—had been lit, casting flickering halos over cobblestones and skaters alike. They stood at the edge of one such halo, and the glimmer made a few of Merritt’s hairs look blond. If he was going to protest the social normative and wear his tresses long, he should really tie them at the nape of his neck and pretend to be a proper gentleman, and yet Hulda had grown quite accustomed to the carefree way they sat on his shoulders, just a little too long to dust them.

“One does not walk normally in these devices,” she countered. She was ready to plead her case, to declare herself unfit for the activity and beg they do soup instead, when she glanced over Merritt’s shoulder to the other skaters. Several of them were couples, gliding closely together, leaning inward to converse. Holding hands.

Heaven knew she wanted that. She’d wanted that all her life.

Steeling herself, she pushed one foot in front of another, hiding her trepidation, and let Merritt step onto the pond first. He certainly hadhis balance down. But that was for the better, wasn’t it? It would be far worse to skate with someone equally as clumsy as herself.

Her first step on the ice held, but her second slipped. She teetered hard to the right before Merritt looped an arm around her waist to keep her upright. But the relief at not falling right on her bottom was quickly replaced by the acknowledgment of their bodies pressed together. Even the waltz wasn’t so close!

Her face heated, which she supposed was a good thing, given the cold. There were eyes about, and her mind invented several more pairs glaring right at her. “Perhaps this isn’t the best idea.” Especially at a mixed-sex rink.

He grinned—he genuinely grinned, and Hulda recalled what Beth had said the other day about his state of mind. Perhaps it wasn’t so bad as they feared. “No one is watching us. Why would they? Everyone is too concerned with which direction their own toes are pointing.”

She supposed he had a point. Biting her bottom lip, Hulda allowed Merritt to pull her onto the pond. She clamped her hands on to his forearm.

He laughed. “I don’t want to patronize you, but would you like some tips?”

She nodded, too focused to speak.

“Worry about your center, not your limbs.” He put his arms around her again and patted her corset, which did indeed make herveryaware of her center. “Bend your knees. Don’t push your feet straight forward. Angle out a little. Like aV.”

He pushed forward, holding her tightly. She watched his feet and copied them, slipping several times. Thank goodness the sun was down enough to hide the burn of embarrassment. But Merritt moved slowly, and he didn’t move his less-than-appropriate arm from her waist until she got her balance under control. Once that was set, he linked their arms together, offering a little more support than a simple handhold would.

“You’re a natural,” he said after half an hour of slow laps around the pond.

She snorted. “I am skilled at many things, but very few of them are physical.”

“Perhaps we’ll try dancing next time.”

A bubble of happiness filled her chest. She glanced up at him for a second before wobbling and turning her gaze back to the ice. “I would like that.”

They skated for another half an hour. A wayward child nearly toppled both of them, but it was an overall enjoyable experience, nonetheless. Though, as Hulda removed her skates after, she feared her ankles would be quite sore come morning.

Merritt laced his fingers with hers as he walked her back to the Bright Bay Hotel, sticking her hand in his coat pocket for extra warmth. She wanted to lean on his shoulder as they strolled, but perhaps that would be too forward of her, and what if Mr.Walker had worked late and came out as they neared BIKER? Hulda could imagine the conversation.MissLarkin? Did you not say Mr.Fernsby was a client of BIKER? It isn’t appropriate to be so familiar with him—

Her eyes scanned the street ahead of them, looking for familiar faces, ready to disengage should she spot one. “Do you need help finding someone else?”

It took a beat for him to catch her meaning. “To replace Beth? No. I’m sure Baptiste and I can clean up after ourselves.” He sighed. “I do hope she’s all right, though. I suppose it might be better for her to move on, with the enchantments gone.”

“The enchantments are still there, just in a different form. A form I do believe MissTaylor is fond of. Regardless, she has a good head on her shoulders. I conjecture she’ll be just fine.” They reached the entrance, and she stepped back to let Merritt open the back door of the building, pulling her hand from his warm grip at the same time. Once inside, hercoat felt too warm, while her nose was half-frozen. “I’m sure it’s not her first instance of sudden transferring. We’ve all dealt with it.”

“Even you?” he asked as they walked toward her room.

Hulda scanned the hallways and listened to the stairs. Saw and heard nothing. It seemed the hotel was empty, or at the very least, her LIKER colleagues had turned in for the night. The men would be on another floor, and MissRichards seemed like someone who preferred to go out. That gave Hulda some confidence in their privacy. “Yes, rather recently, in fact. I’d just come home from a long stint in Canada myself, only to be assigned to some wayward place in the middle of Narragansett Bay. The owner was quite dreadful.”

Merritt chuckled, but she didn’t miss how he muffled a yawn. “I’ve met him and must agree.”

They reached her room. The hallway was poorly lit, though the seventh hour had only just chimed. Hulda turned toward him; he ran his palms down her arms.

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