From Lies (5 page)

All too quickly, the cart was stopping and they entered the throng of excited villagers who wondered at who would manage to snag, if not the prince's heart, at least his attention. Men and women across the kingdom—and from others—were named. Even Greta's name slipped into a few of the conversations they passed, but there was no mention of Raquel or Rafe. No, no one would imagine them capable of catching anyone's attention. Rafe nearly chuckled at that, because Raquel had stolen someone's attention, along with the man's children.

"Why don't you stop in the bakery and pick something out for the staff," Rafe said as he spotted the lawyer's office in the distance. "I'll be back in a bit."

Greta took the money and looked at him strangely. "Are you sure?" He glared at her, not wanting to cause any scene today. He was just too tired. "All right." She backed away, a look of worry flickering across her face. "Be safe."

He would have snorted, but he knew hostility had grown as of late. His mother wasn't properly paying anyone. And while Rafe had money from his business, he needed that to grow his business. Their family finances weren't so depleted that she couldn't pay; he'd checked. He wasn't sure what was going on with his mother lately, but he didn't like it. Keeping himself firm, he moved as best he could with the flow of people, avoiding a few elbows to his sides after the first one.

It was with a sigh of relief that he pushed open the door to Halberd's and Sons law office. The atmosphere was quiet compared to the hustle and bustle of the outside world, and Rafe dragged the silence into himself with relish. It wasn't long before he was seated in a private room, waiting for Mr. Halberd himself to come with everything that pertained to his family. Rafe hoped he could set everything right soon.

The meeting took longer than Rafe liked, but it was done. It had been confirmed that today was his birthday and that by the laws of their kingdom, he was now in charge of the family. He spoke at length with one of the sons about having a bank draft drawn up so he could pay all those his mother was holding out on, and he'd spoken with Mr. Halberd and another of his sons about the business he'd started up.

Both men had looked at him as if he were crazy, and maybe he was, but they reviewed the laws, and as long as no one had discovered it while he'd still been twenty-two, there was nothing the government could do to take his business away since he now legally owned it, though there were a few sticky issues they had to iron out in case any of the merchants he worked with decided to come after him for one thing or another. The streets outside were still packed full of busy people, and Rafe almost wished he didn't have to make his way to the bakery, but he wouldn't risk his sister's dress in this crowd, not if he hoped to survive the night against his mother. It would have been easier if his mother had paid for the delivery of the dress, but she'd scoffed at the thought, proclaiming Greta might as well make herself useful since his mother did feed her and provide a roof over her head.

It seemed luck, or maybe it was Venda listening to his prayers, was on his side as Greta made her way across the streets and through the crush of people to his side, her lips turned down.

"What were you doing in there?"

He followed her gaze to the doors of Halberd's. "Checking on something."

"What?" When he didn't turn to her, she grasped his hand, forcing his attention to her. "What were you checking?"

He sighed, removing his hand from her grasp to scrub over his face. "Mother hasn't been paying her bills properly, and I wanted to make sure it wasn't because the finances were running low."

Greta stared at him a moment longer. "Why wouldn't she pay?"

"I don't know." He shrugged his shoulders because he honestly didn't. "I've taken care of it though."

"How? You're only twenty-two."

Rafe wouldn't stare at her in horror. Sometimes he wondered what he'd done to make the world so cruel. He shrugged his shoulders again and turned away, heading to the dressmaker. "Age has nothing to do with it when there's money involved."

Greta gasped behind him, running to catch up. An impressive feat considering the crowds. "You bribed him? Rafe, how could you?"

Rafe glanced to the side, away from her pitying gaze, wondering if he should laugh or snarl at the look on her face. He settled for shrugging his shoulders again.

"Oh, Rafe."

He pretended he didn't hear her as he strode into the dressmaker's, more than happy to collect the dress, give the final payment after he checked it, and then leave the shop. It was too oppressive inside with all the women and the fragrances they wore. He weaved through the crowd, ever wary of sharp objects or stray hands catching on the box that contained his sister's dress and knocking it to the ground. If only they could have gotten it sooner, or come later in the day, but he had a meeting with one of his ship's captains about a new contract they might barter for later that evening, in the dark of night.

A faint tremor of fear ran through him. Hopefully he wouldn't meet with a cutthroat instead of his captain. That would just be the perfect finish to his birthday.

Rafe was late. He cursed his luck as he shoved the note for Greta into the butler's hands, not caring that the man gave him a sour look. His mother's face was far more terrifying as he scrambled into the coach, failing to find a comfortable spot before the coach lurched forward, Raquel nearly ending up across his lap as the horses found their rhythm. The ride to the palace was silent, even his mother wouldn't cause a scene with a hired coachman, though she might on the way home if nothing went her way. Rafe could only hope Greta got his note and came to the ball. Of any of them, she deserved it.

And tomorrow all their fortunes would change. He sighed, slouching in his seat, not caring when his mother gave him a nasty look. It was his night to be free, no matter how briefly, because everyone would receive a mask upon arrival, so no one would know who the prince was. At least, that was the idea. Rafe was certain several people would know the prince just from his clothes and mannerisms.

Raquel tugged on his sleeve, garnering his attention as she glanced between him and their mother, who was pretending not to notice her daughter's actions.

"Yes?" Rafe whispered to her, leaning his ear close to her mouth so she could talk softly. It was a vain hope that their mother wouldn't hear whatever Raquel would say, but he could still attempt to protect her privacy.

"Do you think Lord Shaften will be there?" Raquel's voice was barely a breath, but Rafe saw their mother tense.

He moved faster than he realized he could, his mother's fingers driving her nails into the sleeve of his jacket.

"You will focus on the prince. Not on some third-rate lord who can't provide you with anything," their mother hissed, her gaze as sharp as her nails where they dug into Rafe's arm, not caring which of her children she hurt to make her point clear.

Raquel nodded beside Rafe, her eyes wide, face pale. Rafe hated this. He placed a calming hand on Raquel's knee and wrenched his arm away from their mother. "There will be others there wishing to dance with the prince, and it's not a horrible concession to dance with another lord. It might even appear more attractive in the eyes of other nobles since it will give the impression that she isn't just there to snag a prince."

Their mother sneered. "What foolishness you speak of. You would do well to remember who is in charge of this family."

Rafe bit his tongue from lashing out and revealing all he'd worked on. No, he had to be patient. Better to secure Raquel's marriage to Lord Shaften than have everything destroyed. If he could get his sister, both of them, safe, he'd be able to sleep easier.

Raquel stayed huddled into his side, her gaze never leaving their mother, even as she turned her attention out the window, feigning disinterest in her children, but Rafe saw the way her eyes twitched, glancing from the corner every so often. He wondered which was worse: children who feared their mother, or a mother who feared her children.

The air became light as soon as the carriage stopped and the door opened. Rafe climbed out first, assisting his sister from the coach. When his mother took his hand, Rafe hid his wince, gazing at her in what he hoped was disinterest as she dug her nails deep. When she released her hold, Rafe waited until they'd made it inside before glancing to his palm, scowling at the small crescents highlighted in red. He'd have to find some way to erase the blood from his skin.

Rafe quickly took his sister's arm after they donned their masks and led her into the ballroom, ignoring their mother who fumed behind them. It was a clear snub, since he could have taken them both, though decorum dictated he take his mother if he had to pick one. Decorum could jump naked from the balcony for all he cared. His sister's arm trembled against his own, only abating when they saw Lord Shaften with his children. He was currently the only one present not wearing a mask, probably more for his children's benefit than any other reason.

With a wistful sigh, his sister pulled a bit ahead of him, though her arm was still linked with his. "Come on," she said, laughing as she tugged him toward the small group.

Rafe smiled at his sister's joy. It was nice to see someone happy. He bowed to Lord Shaften and his children, more than happy to hand his sister over into their care. He stuck close, commenting on the romantic setting and wondering aloud if a wedding should take place, that it would be as grand as the ball.

Lord Shaften took the hint, glancing at Raquel as she laughed at what one of his daughters said. "I do believe if I were to wed again, it would be far grander than this humble ball." He winked at Rafe. "Do tell me if you are willing to adjourn to a quieter spot later this evening."

"I would be happy to." Rafe inclined his head, his heart crying out in triumph. As long as nothing happened, his sister would be safe from their mother's clutches this night.

"Oh, the music has started." Raquel glanced their way, happiness shining from her. "Is it all right, my lord, if I ask your son to dance?"

Lord Shaften smiled at her, something soft in the gesture that made Rafe want to turn away, feeling it was too private for him, but he couldn't turn away from the way his sister seemed to soften, grow warmer beneath this man's gaze. "If my son accepts, I would have no problem."

The little boy nodded, grabbing Raquel's hand and dragging her to the dance floor that had only a few couples on it. Mainly older partners who wouldn't stay the whole night.

Rafe smiled at his sister as she laughed and turned to the man he hoped would be his future brother-in-law. "If it is not too presumptuous, I would ask to dance with both beautiful young ladies before their dance cards are filled for the evening."

Lord Shaften laughed, patting him on the back. "Be my guest."

Both of Lord Shaften's daughters appeared eager, taking a hand each and dragging Rafe out onto the floor, creating their own steps as they moved to the music, quickly dragging their brother and Raquel into the mix. Rafe laughed, unable to remember the last time he'd felt so light, had seen his sister shining as she was now. He thought he caught sight of their mother off to one side, but he didn't pay her any mind. He was having fun, and he wouldn't let her dampen it.

The song slowly wound down, and they left the dance floor, all of them out of breath and laughing. When they found Lord Shaften, he was talking with a group of men in masks, all of them in clothes finer than Rafe's or Raquel's, and their mother had attempted to spare no expense, even if Rafe had managed to curtail her at every turn. They both bowed to the group of men, the children huddling around their father as they laughed and told him how they'd danced. It was cute, and a small piece of Rafe wondered if he could have that. He looked at Raquel and saw his sister was yearning to be included, but she stayed back, not wanting to intrude on a family moment. His heart ached for her. Tonight. It would all be settled tonight.

"And who might your charming companions be?" one of the men asked the children. Rafe thought the voice vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place it.

Raquel laughed, stepping forward to offer a curtsey. "Now, now," she chided, gracing them with an impish look from beneath her mask. "That would be telling, and tonight is meant for secrets." She looked at the children and winked, smiling as they giggled.

A new strain of music started, and Rafe watched his sister cast a shy glance Lord Shaften's way. He couldn't resist. "Why don't you escort my sister to the floor, and I shall watch the children with these fine gentlemen?"

Raquel gave him a look, but Lord Shaften readily took her hand. "If you insist." And the man winked at his children, much to their delight.

When the pair was on the floor, dancing between the other couples, one of the girls tugged on Rafe's pant leg. He bent down to her level, leaning in close as she motioned him to do. "Do you think she'll be our new mommy? We really like her. She's nice, unlike the other ladies that come to visit daddy. And we like you too." She patted his cheek as she said the last part, giving him a shy smile.

He leaned in close to her ear, smiling as he said, "I think she might be, if your daddy's willing."

The little girl giggled, tugging her siblings close to share the news. They all looked at him with wide, hopeful eyes, and he knew he'd made the right choice over a year ago when he'd set his sights on Lord Shaften for his sister.

"And what secrets are you sharing?" one of the men, dressed all in black, asked, while the third man excused himself from the group.

"It's a secret," the little boy said, covering his mouth as he giggled.

"And tonight's a night for secrets," his eldest sister cheered, grinning at them all.

"Too true," Rafe said, affixing a serious expression that only had the children laughing and giggling more. He then made other faces, amused by the amount of shrieking and giggling the children were doing, even the eldest, who always appeared far too serious to Rafe.

"You're good at that," his sister said when she returned from her dance, her cheeks flushed, eyes bright, her arm curled protectively in Lord Shaften's.