“Perhaps because, without the stepdaughter there, The Tradition is allowing her to be herself, and not what it wants her to be,” he replied, startling her with the same insight that she had had. “I wonder what would happen if the stepdaughter never went back — or at least, not as the rival in the household.”
She caught her breath. “You cannot possibly be saying that you want me to stay!”
“Is that so revolting to you?” He still didn’t let go of her hand, but he looked stricken. “I know I might never be rid of this curse — ”
“Oh, that’s nothing!” she exclaimed.
“Well, then, would you consider it? Would you allow me to speak to your father, once the King allows me to?” His gaze begged her. “I know you are my friend — and I have not had a real friend but Eric in a very, very long time — but would you ever consider wedding me? I know this is very sudden. Perhaps this offends you, but I hope not, and I am afraid that once you can leave here, your father may decide the only way to make sure you are safe is to arrange a marriage for you, with someone you don’t even know. At least you know me, and you like me. Many good marriages are made in friendship. I don’t ask you to love me, but — I don’t think I can do without you, now that I know you.”
She found herself stammering. “I…I suppose so…if the King allows it…if my father…”
“That’s all I ask.” He kissed her hand before releasing it. “You deserve to be more than anyone has allowed you to be until now. That may be the only gift I can give you that will equal a part of what you can give me. If you stay with your father, you won’t really have that. If another marriage is arranged, I think you would have less than you have with your father. In my house, you will have freedom.”
She hardly knew how she got back to her rooms after they parted. She felt very much in a daze, not exactly sure how she felt about him. That she liked him immensely — oh, yes. Absolutely. But love? Not so sure of that…
Not sure at all.
He was right, though, in that the longer she stayed in her father’s house, the more she would become the unregarded old maid, the glorified — and unpaid! — housekeeper. And the more Genevieve would fester, pushed by The Tradition into an equally unhappy role. Her only escape would be that one she had wistfully contemplated, the little herbalist shop, perhaps to grow into a Granny…
No, definitely to grow into a Granny. Granny and the Godmother just about said as much.
But now, she was going to be a sorceress — she wasn’t going to be a witch, the equivalent to the wizard, she was sure of that. Her talents definitely did not lie in that direction. She had been brought into the circle of those who knew about The Tradition, and had spoken to a Godmother! Sebastian had just offered her her own household, and if the servants were on the unconventional side, well, so was she…
But was that enough without loving him? And did he love her? “I don’t think I can do without you” was not quite the same.
Genevieve is perfectly prepared to make a match for the twins without any love involved, she reminded herself. And the twins will jump through a fire for a title or enough wealth. Why should I be worried about love when my husband and I would be friends, not just partners in an…exchange?
She put both hands to her temples. There were still two months to go before either of them could do anything about this. The King was not going to lift his edict, which was that three moons must pass since the one when she had been bitten. A great deal could happen in two months’ time. Look how much had happened to her in one! Sebastian might decide he loathed her. She might decide she loathed him. They both might decide this was the best idea of the century. The Godmother might oppose it. The King might oppose it. Her father might oppose it. A mob of torch-bearing peasants might discover that Sebastian was a werewolf and come storming the Manor.
They might actually fall in love.
They might…
She made her way into her bed, hardly noticing Sapphire’s ministrations, but the Spirit Elemental didn’t seem to take any offense. She had been certain that she would never be able to sleep, and took up the book on The Tradition with the certainty that she would still be reading by morning.
With the predictable result that she fell asleep with the book still in her hands, and woke in the morning, rather earlier than usual, with a slightly stiff neck and no more idea of what she was going to do than she’d had when she went to bed last night.
She wrote out her usual letter to her father, telling him about everything except Sebastian’s proposal — and the way that Eric had beaten the poacher. She got it into the box before her father would be at his desk with a sigh of relief. The last thing she wanted him to do was not find his usual letter, since he already knew she was going out with Eric, and would assume that something terrible had happened to her. His letter was not in there yet, so all was well. Sapphire hovered at the closet, the movement back and forth of her ribbon telling Bella that the servant didn’t know what clothing to bring out.
“Is Eric back yet?” she asked.
The slate rose, the chalk scratched. “No” came the reply. “Mesa this morning. Not back 4 5 mor daze.”
Message? How — “How on earth does he get a message back here?” she asked.
“Pijin.”
Oh…well, that made sense. She knew there were several households in the city that kept pigeons for carrying messages. For that matter, her father had some, at the warehouse, for sending urgent messages back and forth from the port. And given that Eric wasn’t a magician, a pigeon or a human messenger would be the only way for him to let Sebastian know if he was going to be delayed or detained. A human messenger was not a good choice, all things considered.