Fantasyland 04 Broken Dove (28 page)

Good news?

“It is,” Apollo agreed and the man looked back at him.

“For you, my man.” He looked again at me. “And for you, madam.” He then lifted his hand in a flourish toward his head and gave me a short bow.

I didn’t know what to do with that so when he straightened, I inclined my head.

He held out his hand, palm up, and murmured, “It is surely a pleasure to meet you, Madeleine, Lady Ulfr.”

I placed my fingers in his and replied, “And you, sir.”

His fingers wrapped around mine for a short squeeze then he let me go.

Thankfully, the waiter showed at that point with our appetizers.

“Ulfr.” Danforth clapped Apollo on the back and it was a wonder Apollo’s shoulder didn’t jerk forward at the strength of the blow. “I’ll leave you to your meal, your lady and your”—he glanced meaningfully at the champagne—“celebrations.”

“My gratitude,” Apollo replied, his words short, his tone tight.

The man turned to me. “Pleasure.”

“Yes,” I agreed, feeling weird about what was happening and stupid because I had no clue how to act in this situation as “Lady Ulfr.”

He swept away and Apollo sat down as the waiter set our plates in front of us.

And as Apollo sat, he muttered, “Bloody hell.”

The waiter bowed and moved away and I leaned in immediately.

“What was that?” I asked in a low voice.

Apollo moved his angry gaze that was directed to his plate to me and he rearranged his features instantly.

He was hiding something.

Not good.

“I’ll explain later, dove,” he murmured.

Oh no. He wasn’t getting to me with that sweet, lovely “dove” business.

“Apollo, what was that?” I repeated.

His eyes grew intense on mine and he also repeated, “I’ll explain later, Maddie.”

Telling myself he was not Pol, not Pol,
not Pol,
I still couldn’t stop myself from thinking about a Pol who dealt drugs for a living and thus kept a variety of things from me. Not that I wanted to know, but it still didn’t feel nice, as secrets never did.

A Pol that decided what house we lived in without much input from me (as in,
none
). A Pol who also decided what car I would drive, ditto the input. And with this kind of thing I could go on (and on).

And he was a Pol who had a variety of things on his mind, stressors in his life (seeing as he was a drug dealer, one high up the food chain, but one nonetheless) and he didn’t share those concerns with me through anything but his fists.

Apollo was not Pol.

But I’d learned through Pol that I didn’t like things kept from me.

I would not want to know Pol’s dealings. What I did know, I didn’t like. What I did know was another reason to leave him. And he knew that. So he didn’t give it to me outright and in the end, he just didn’t give me anything but good sex and bad times.

And maybe he didn’t because he knew if it was out in the open, I’d betray him to the police. Or I’d hate him and do it for more reasons other than the fact that he made me keep secrets too. Secrets that I detested. The biggest one being that I lived in fear of him, and every second of every day I had to live a lie and hide that.

But that was moot now.

I understood Apollo was not Pol.

But I wasn’t going to start a relationship with a man who held anything back from me.

I leaned deeper into the table and enunciated clearly, “Apollo…what…was…
that?
”

He studied me, he did it for a long time and he did it with conflicted eyes.

Then he made his decision.

And for some reason, his decision at that very second meant everything to me.

Absolutely everything.

Because I knew, if he made the wrong one, the damage would be irrevocable.

“In this country,” he began slowly, and when he did, I knew he’d made the right one so I pulled in a soft, relieved breath. “At times, it is customary, when a man is unattached, usually widowed, for him to take a wife who has been the same. This could, of course, be a natural coupling where they meet, find each other agreeable, and wed. Other times, a man will take this wife, a relative not of blood, say, his cousin’s widowed bride…”

He hesitated. I braced and I was glad I did when he carried on.

“Or a relation of his dead wife, in order to provide her a home the likes to which she has become accustomed. It happens mostly only amongst those who are members of a House and it happens with women who sometimes have children, but also if she is alone, or perhaps a man who has children and thus they have no mother. And it usually happens in order that the female, who is unlikely to be able to provide herself with an income, is able to live amongst those of her own in comfort and with protection.”

I let out my breath in a whoosh, having a feeling I knew where this was going and not sure how I felt about it.

“In any case, amongst the Houses, where a man intends to take a woman as wife, if that intention is understood and agreed between the parties, that union being inevitable, prior to that, she will begin to be addressed as a lady of that House. In this case,”—he held my eyes—“you being addressed as Lady Ulfr.”

Yes, I knew where it was going.

“And who in your House am I marrying?” I asked instantly.

“Me,” he replied just as instantly.

I stared at him for long moments.

He let me.

Then I stated, “So you just told that man we’re engaged.”

“Yes,” he confirmed.

Holy cow!

“Are we engaged?” I asked.

“Yes,” he answered immediately and decisively.

I sucked in a sharp breath and on the exhale, noted, “I think this is pretty much the definition of moving too fast, Apollo.”

Apollo said nothing.

“Did I miss your proposal?” I queried.

“The words weren’t uttered,” he replied. “But I think your answer was ‘please.’”

I blinked and asked, “What?”

He suddenly leaned forward, his hand shooting out and clasping mine.

This was not an affectionate gesture.

It was a claiming one.

And his eyes were burning into mine.

Oh shit.

“When I covered you last night, before I took you, you said ‘please.’”

I remembered that. Hell, I’d never forget it.

But seriously?

I felt my eyes get big. “That’s a marriage proposal?”

“It’ll do for us.”

Oh my God!

Maybe he
didn’t
keep getting better.

I leaned in too, and hissed, “Apollo, that’s insane.”

“I was unsheathed.”

Crap!

“And you took me repeatedly,” he went on.

Crap!

I knew what he was saying. He was saying unprotected sex often equals pregnancy. And pregnancy also often equals marriage. Obviously even in this world.

I didn’t need to deal with that right then. That was too big for me to deal with. And I decided in that moment I couldn’t worry about something when I didn’t know if there was anything to worry about. Instead I would deal with it only when I knew that there was something to deal with.

Now, I needed to deal with the matter at hand.

“Apollo—”

“And I’m having you again tonight.”

Here we go. Back to arrogant Apollo.

“
Repeatedly
,” he went on.

I felt my heart thump just as my clit pulsed and I tried to pull my hand from his but his tightened on mine and I failed.

“And the next night and the next. I think you understand me,” he stated.

I glared at him.

“And we’re traveling together and sleeping in the same room.”

“For protection,” I snapped.

“Until last night, yes.”

“And yesterday, you called me Lady Ulfr to the staff at the inn and that was
before
what happened last night.”

“Indeed, as my intention was to take you to wife then too.”

Oh my God!

Was this happening?

“This is crazy,” I declared.

“No, it isn’t,” he disagreed.

I leaned deeper and bit out, “It so totally is.”

“And you’d be contented with allowing me to bring you to this world, bring you from yours where you lived in fear and on the run, and let you carry forth working as a barmaid?” he asked curtly. “Subsisting from coin to coin. Forcing down food much worse than our sandwiches today because you could afford no better. A woman who understands and appreciates the finest champagne, reduced to that and me forcing it on you?”

“It isn’t about champagne,” I snapped, his comment hitting way too close to the bone. “And it wouldn’t be you forcing it on me. It would be my choice.”

“It would be me forcing it on you, Maddie. Taking you from the other world, that was not your choice. That was mine. You have grand ideas of how you would exist on this world, but you have no idea how those who work in inns or pubs or elsewhere survive. I’m sure there is contentment and even happiness. But you’re not simply a woman who appreciates the finest champagne. You’re a woman who deserves it.”

At that unexpected and unbelievably nice compliment, I clamped my mouth shut as I felt my heart seize.

“And my first wife was a physician. She had her life, I had mine and we successfully managed to have both of those together. Do you not think it’s a better idea to be fed, comfortable and safe while you decide how you’d like to spend your time in your new world? And then be the same while you go about doing it?”

My heart burst into action and was beating so fast, it scared the hell out of me so I focused on that and on his words and didn’t answer.

He didn’t seem to mind and kept talking.

“You may wish to go from gale to gale, ball to ball, hunt to hunt and wear fine clothes and jewels, and I would not care, glad simply to have you on my arm. Or you may wish to study a profession and then put it to practice, and I would not care, but only if you share your days with me when they are at an end. You may instead wish to bake the best cakes in all of Lunwyn, and I wouldn’t care, for I’d get to eat them. Hell, you could desire to learn something of my financial interests and become involved, and I would welcome it.”

Totally.

Seriously.

Completely.

Was this guy for real?

His hand tightened in mine. “In other words, I don’t care what you do. The only thing I care about is that you’re safe and happy while doing it. You’ve not shared with me but you know that I know that you’ve had a life where you were not either. Not in the slightest. I didn’t bring you here to give you the same ugliness but in a different way, slaving in a pub to feed yourself. I brought you here to give you”—his hand jerked mine—“
better.
”

Oh my God.

Suddenly, the vision of him was swimming and this was because my eyes had filled with tears.

His hand gentled around mine and his voice was gentle too when he whispered, “Poppy.”

“Now
that,
” I started, my voice trembling, “was a marriage proposal.”

Apollo made no reply and I looked away as I grabbed my napkin to dab my eyes, hoping (even though it was doubtful), that no one was watching.

And as I did, Apollo again tugged my hand across the table and I felt his lips brush my knuckles.

I closed my eyes tight.

I was right before.

This guy just got better and better.

He put our hands to the table but gave mine a gentle squeeze.

“Is that a yes, my dove?”

I drew in a calming breath and on its heels another one. With tears under control, if not the beating of my heart, I lifted my eyes to him.

“This is going very fast,” I reiterated.

“Yes,” he agreed, not letting go of my hand or my gaze.

“It’s scary.”

“Yes,” he agreed again and I watched in fascination as his beautiful jade eyes turned hard and determined. “And this, my poppy, will be the last thing on this world or any other that you fear.”

Oh…my…
God
.

My stomach dropped and I forgot how to breathe.

“Now, is it a yes?” he repeated.

With effort, I pulled myself together and asked, “Can I have some time to think about it?”

“Yes,” he answered and I felt myself relax. “But only if, when that time is up, the answer is yes.”

I stared at him.

Then I couldn’t help it.