Page 34 of Disenchanted
“That man is no friend to you, Ella. Why was he not with you today? How could he allow you to take such a risk, venturing into this part of town alone?”
“I am an independent woman. I don’t need Mal’s permission or that of any other man. Mal has been so occupied with his business of late, I did not even ask him to accompany me.”
“Exactly what business would that be?”
Merely a little smuggling, practicing illegal magic and plotting to break into the royal palace to steal back his grandfather’s orb.
I replied, “Why, what else but the business of brewing medicine. After all, Mal is an apothecary.”
“An apothecary who has been gone from his shop frequently these past two weeks.” Crushington’s hard grey eyes probed mine. “Do you have any idea where Hawkridge has been?”
“He has probably been off gathering herbs or paying calls upon customers too old or ill to visit his shop.”
“How noble of him,” Crushington said. There was such a bitter edge to his voice that for a moment I wondered if he could be jealous of Mal. That was surely absurd.
“Mal can be quite noble and generous,” I said. “Your time would be much better employed hunting down a real villain like the man who attacked me.”
“I intend to.”
“Good! Then you can arrest someone who actually deserves it. What a refreshing change that would be.”
I winced as soon as I said it, cursing my wayward tongue. But I was tired. I was bruised. I was angry and upset that Crushington was so relentlessly determined to prove Mal guilty of something. Still, it was not wise of me to antagonize the commander.
Crushington looked more frustrated than angry as he began, “Ella—”
“Miss Upton,” I corrected, turning my back to him. I sat rigid in the saddle, trying to keep as much distance between us as possible.
I heard the commander heave a deep sigh, and he fell silent. Not a comfortable one this time.
I fumed quietly, disgusted with myself. I could not believe that I had been relaxed in Crushington’s arms or even started to like him. His rescue of me had caused me to forget who he was: The Royal Scutcheon commander, the king’s ruthless enforcer of his crushing laws. A man whose rigid sense of duty allowed him to exploit a miserable creature like Withypole and to pose a great threat to my closest friend.
All I wanted was to get away from Crushington as soon as possible. The commander must have felt the same because he urged Loyal into a trot. Perhaps he no longer really liked me quite so much.
As we left the Bottoms behind and clattered through the town square, we attracted a great deal of attention. Some of Crushington’s men, loitering near their barracks, pointed at us and grinned. Citizens on their way to conduct official business at Quad Hall paused to stare and smirk.
My cheeks flamed as I realized everyone must be thinking that I had finally decided to welcome the commander’s courtship. It was even worse when Crushington was obliged to slow his horse as we passed through the marketing area. Housewives tittered and whispered behind their hands,although others were not so subtle. Some of the remarks were carried to me with disastrous clarity.
“I never knew a man to be so slow.”
“It looks like the commander has finally gotten around to some serious wooing.”
“Ha! More likely he is arresting her.”
I recognized this last snide voice as belonging to my stepmother’s false friend, Matilda Dearling. As we trotted past, I shot her a venomous look. Despite the promise I had made Imelda, I would have given anything to have a large ugly toad in my pocket.
I wondered if Crushington was finding all this speculation as humiliating as I did. I risked a glance back at him. He stared rigidly ahead; his mouth set in the familiar stern line.
When we reached my house, he reined Loyal to a halt and dismounted. I did not wait for him to lift me from the saddle. I leapt down, but my heels struck the pavement hard, and I staggered. I would have fallen if Crushington had not caught me. For a moment, I was close to him, cradled in his embrace. As soon as I recovered my balance, I thrust him away.
I backed up a step and dropped a stiff curtsy.
“Thank you, Commander. For everything.”
Not pausing for his reply, I whirled about, hurrying toward my front gate.
“Ella! Miss Upton, wait!” he commanded.
The gate creaked as I hurled through it and slammed it behind me.
