Page 52 of Charmless
Florian! My first impulse was to flee but something inside of me snapped. I was furious. I had had enough of his relentless pursuit of me. Regardless of the consequences, I looked about me for something to throw. My gaze fell upon the porcelain basin still filled with tepid bath water. Not exactly boiling oil, but it would have to do.
Hefting the basin, I sloshed water over my gown. Florian was already halfway up the wall. I dumped the rest of the water over the prince. The basin slipped from my hands, bonking him on the head as well.
Florian emitted a startled gasp.
Losing his footing, he scrambled for purchase but ended up falling back into the shrubs. Watching him flail about in the rose bushes, I grinned with a fierce satisfaction until a familiar voice called out.
“What the frap, Ella!”
My smile faded. I leaned further out the window, squinting into the darkened garden. “Mal, is that you?”
Still swearing, Mal regained his footing. “Of course, it is me. Who else would it be?”
“I thought you were Prince Florian.”
“Oh, certainly, because we look so much alike.” Mal shoved back the hood of his cloak, exposing his bald head.
“I am sorry, but it is dark down there and I could not see your face.”
“Is that still any reason for you to douse me?” Mal paused to sniff at his cloak. “Er - that was only water you threw at me?”
“Yes, you idiot.” Grimy and soapy, but still only water. I started to ask what Mal was doing, creeping around outside my window, and scaring me out of my wits. But a low moan carried to me from the adjacent bedchamber which belonged to my stepmother.
Fearful of waking Em, I hissed at Mal to meet me in the back garden. Closing my window, I tiptoed through the silent house. Entering the kitchen, I paused long enough to light a lantern from the oven embers. I grabbed up a towel and stole out the back door in the garden to find Mal waiting beneath the pergola.
He had stripped off his cloak and laid it across the garden table to dry as I hung up the lantern. When I gave him the towel, he handed me my basin. I was pleased to find the porcelain bowl still intact.
“It is not even chipped,” I exclaimed. “Your head must not be as hard as I thought.”
“Very amusing.” He gave me a disgruntled look as he toweled off his face and head. “I guess I should consider myself lucky to have escaped with a bump on the head. You could have made me break my neck.”
“Serves you right. What were you doing sneaking about my window like some sort of brigand?”
“I told you this afternoon, I would find a way to come to you.”
“By climbing the wall into my bedchamber?”
“I used to visit you that way all the time.”
“When we were children. You gave me a terrible fright. I thought you were Florian.”
“Why would you think it could be him? He’s an arrogant moron, but surely not even he would be bold enough to creep into a lady’s bedchamber.”
“According to his brother Ryland, he is.”
“Prince Ryland? When did you see that wretch?”
I could not conceal my distress as I gave Mal a brief account of the unexpected visit from my former lover. Mal pulled a wry face.
“Good grief, Ella. You are positively infested with princes. You need an exterminator.” He lifted one foot and then the other as though trying to avoid the royalty scurrying about my garden.
He made me laugh which had been his intention. At least, it started out that way. Perhaps because I have had so little to laugh about of late, I could not regain control of myself. I laughed until tears flowed down my cheeks and somewhere mid chuckle, I found myself crying in earnest.
“Hey! Hey, now,” Mal protested. “What’s all this?”
He took the basin from me before I dropped it again. Setting aside the porcelain bowl, he drew me down onto the bench beside him and gathered me into his arms. He smelled like a combination of sweat and soapy water, but I burrowed my face against his shoulder, making it even wetter with my tears. All the stress and exhaustion of the past few days poured out of me as if a dam had burst.
I have always hated to cry in front of anyone. My family relied upon me so much to be the strong, sensible one. I never felt free to display any emotion that would distress them. Much as I loved Horatio, I was not yet comfortable enough to reveal my weaknesses. But Mal knew all my flaws and vulnerabilities. He had been my comforter since we were children. His shoulderhad often provided me with refuge, a safe place to vent my misery.
