Page 84 of Charmless
A surge of fury rushed through my veins. Florian was still rocking on the rear legs of the chair. One good shove was allit would take to send the prince flying over backward. Perhaps he discerned something of that angry thought in my eyes. He leaned forward, the chair settling back on all four legs with a loud clunk.
“Where is Mal?” I repeated through gritted teeth. My voice cracked a little as I added, “Is - is he dead?”
“No, he is still alive… for the moment.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. It was fleeting, tempered by my fear of what had befallen my friend. Florian smirked, clearly enjoying keeping me in suspense. He dipped his fingers into the jar scrounging for another peppermint.
Casting the cloak aside, I wrenched the jar from Florian’s grasp. It was all I could do to keep from smashing it over his head. But I needed to remain calm until I wrung some answers from this infuriating oaf.
“I don’t understand why you are here. Did you attack Mal?” I demanded. “Where is he now? Explain yourself!”
Florian scowled. I doubt that anyone had ever dared speak to the prince this way, let alone a woman. He uncoiled himself from the chair, towering over me. “I did warn you, Ella. I will not tolerate any rivals for your affection.”
“Rivals? What are you talking about? Mal is my friend.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. A proper friend for you would be another girl to shop with and gossip, giggle and fuss over hair ribbons. Just as I would seek out another man for companionship, to hunt and drink with. But a man and a woman can never be just friends.”
“How would you know?” I snapped. “I doubt you have ever had a true friend in your entire life.”
“Careful, Ella. You are sounding shrewish, and I really don’t like that in a girl.” Florian seized my chin in a hard grip, something ugly surfacing in his eyes. My heart missed a beat as I recalled Ryland’s warning about his brother.
“Florian has mastered the art of appearing charming, but you have no idea how dangerous he can be.”
I was suddenly aware of how alone I was with the prince. No adoring audience of Midtown citizens to ooh and ahh over Florian’s every word and smile. He had no inducement to behave in a noble manner. I swallowed nervously, but I sensed that displaying any fear would be a great mistake. Neither was it wise to deliberately provoke him. Pushing his hand away, I muttered an apology although I nearly choked on it.
Florian’s expression lightened. “It is all right. I shall attribute your nasty remark to a natural state of distress. I know how prone you women can be to fits of the vapors. Thus, I will forgive you this time.”
Vapors? I thought, grinding my teeth. I was far closer to a state of volcanic eruption. I bought myself time to martial my wits by putting the lid back on the peppermint jar and replacing it on the kitchen shelf above the coal stove. Florian’s unexpected assault upon Mal appeared to have been motivated solely by jealousy. The prince did not seem to know anything about the stolen orb, and I was grateful for that. But if I had any hope of saving my friend’s life, I needed to tread carefully.
As I turned back to confront Florian, I was able to keep my voice level. “Because you considered Mal to be a rival, you did what? Challenged him to a duel?”
“A duel? With a lowborn creature like that?” Florian snorted. “You forget I am a prince. I would not stoop to soil my hands with the blood of such a ruffian. I had my personal guards give the wretch a sound thrashing and then haul him off to King’s Royal Prison. Or the Dismal Dungeons as I have heard the peasants call it. A fitting sobriquet for such a dreadful place, the dank cells, the stench, the rats.” Florian gave a mock shudder.
I felt the blood drain from my face at the thought of Mal, badly injured, chained up in one of those fetid cold dungeons.How long could he survive in such grim circumstances? I had warned my friend so many times he would wind up in King’s Royal Prison someday because of his reckless disregard for the laws against smuggling and the practice of illegal magic. It was a cruel irony that Mal had ended up incarcerated through no fault of his own but because I had inadvertently inspired this stupid prince’s infatuation.
“How did you even know I was supposed to be meeting Mal here today?” I asked. “Have you been spying on me?”
“No!” Florian struck his palm against his chest, trying to appear wounded that I would suggest such a thing. The effect was ruined when he chuckled. “I didn’t have to when you have such an obliging neighbor so eager to give me information about your rendezvous with this rogue.”
“What neighbor—” I began, but I knew at once who he meant.
“Mrs. Biddlesworth,” I grated her name with loathing. I had not been imagining things when I thought the woman had been spying upon me and Mal last night.
I swore. “That miserable, nosy, old cow.”
“Now, now, my dear.” Florian interrupted, wagging a reproving finger at me. “You must not be vexed with that good woman. Mrs. Biddlesworth has only your best interests at heart.”
No, that awful woman wanted to be rid of me because she hated my untidy garden and believed that I was a witch. Fortunate for her that I was not, because I could think of any number of horrible curses to inflict upon her. I had to content myself with vengeful thoughts of decapitating every one of her prize roses.
Florian strutted about the kitchen as he gloated about how he had sent the royal messenger to delude me into thinking he would be gone for the day so I would feel free to keep mymeeting with Mal. Then the prince had arranged to arrive at The Hawk’s Nest well ahead of time hoping to catch us in a lover’s tryst.
Florian looked so pleased with his own cleverness in setting this trap, it was all I could do not to slap him. But his smug expression faded as he added, “I had hoped you would be here to witness your lover getting the thrashing he deserved. But you spoiled everything by being late and then Commander Crushington blundered in, attempting to interfere.”
“Hor—” I managed to check myself before I blurted out his name. If Florian suspected one tenth of what I felt for Horatio, I could end up with both men I loved chained up in the Dismal Dungeons. Keeping my expression as neutral as I could, I asked, “Commander Crushington? How did he come to be here?”
Florian gave an irritated shrug. “No idea. He had some lame excuse about being summoned to investigate a disturbance of the peace. Crushington arrived just in time to see my men lashing Hawkridge to the back of a horse to convey him to the prison. That upstart of a Scutcheon attempted to stop me.”
“Did he?” I breathed. I had to lower my eyes to conceal how much I adored Horatio for that. I realized Horatio had needed to gain custody of Mal himself to retrieve the orb. But my heart whispered that Horatio had another reason for trying to save Mal from Florian. He had done it for me.
