It was late in the evening when Avaline placed the last stitch on the third handkerchief for Margie's commission. Belle would occasionally visit, but she didn't bring any messages. I tried asking about Delilah, but Lord Nightingale didn't respond. Even her messages about Sister Tucker and the care packages didn't get a reply. Had Avaline done something wrong? What could she do to get him to speak to her?
The only way she could think of was to confront him directly. How was she going to do that? Most relationships were taken care of by the parents. Should Avaline ask Charles for help? The thought sent a shiver down her spine. She couldn't do that.
Perhaps an outing may be in order, but where would they meet? A restaurant needed a reservation. Avaline needed to save up money for the fee. Or should they meet at her home? The logistics would be complicated. She would need to buy a meal for Lord Nightingale. Let's not forget about Delilah. Avaline couldn't let her stay home alone.
With a sigh, Avaline stood from her desk. Everything took time, and she didn't have enough patience for it. No. She must act soon.
Feeling a spark of rebellion, Avaline undressed and donned her riding clothes. The trousers were a bit tight, and the blouse wouldn't button on the way. The last time she wore this was for an outing with the ladies two years ago. Lady Kain had received a new mare for her birthday, and everyone had been invited to ride with her. Back then, Avaline still had her mare before it was sold.
In the darkness, Avaline finished dressing and pulling her hair back in a braid. She had stepped out of the room when she hesitated. She returned and grabbed Lord Nightingale's coat from her wardrobe and secured it around herself.
Holding her breath, Avaline tiptoed down the stairs. Heel to toe, she chanted in her mind. Heel to toe. She moved slowly, her palms sweating. The stairs creaked. Blood pounded in her ears, and the breath rushed out of her lungs. Had anyone heard her?
She squatted down and waited. Nothing stirred. Avaline peeked over the banister. Downstairs was empty. She glanced up the stairs. Empty. It was time to move.
Avaline lifted one foot and placed it down on the next step. She crept down the rest of the stairs and froze. Jonas would be on duty. Marco slept near the kitchen, and Lottie's room wasn't far either. Fearfully, she glanced into the foyer. Luckily, Jonas hadn't heard her.
Like a burglar, Avaline slunk around the stairs toward the kitchen. The handle was cold to the touch. Clenching her jaw, Avaline pushed open the door. The hinges creaked. Silently, she cursed their fortune. Next time they had extra money, she would make sure to get every door oiled.
Biting her lip, Avaline slipped into the room. The air was warm thanks to the low ember in the hearth. She blinked owlishly at the dim light. Marco's door was across the room. On the other side was the door where they received groceries.
Silent as a mouse, Avaline snuck past the table, keeping low. She reached the door and opened it. At least she tried to. It didn't budge.
Avaline's eyes widened. It was locked. Frustrated, she turned. Where would the keys be? Wait, the drawer. Avaline padded towards the far end of the room. Marco kept an inventory of all supplies and a ledger of all the expenses.
She gripped the drawer and pulled it open. As the drawer eased open, the desk shook. Hissing, Avaline squinted at the contents of the drawer. Under a leather-bound book, she found the key ring. Saying her thanks to the Sol Goddess, Avaline pushed the drawer inside.
Outside, Avaline pulled the coat up to her face. She dashed across the estate towards the stables. The family had kept all of two horses. The path was uneven as she walked. Untamed bushes stretched out like ghoulish hands. Shivering, Avaline clenched her jaw and broke out into a run. Her pulse quickened.
As the stables came into view, she stopped. Peter stayed by the horses to prevent any theft. First, Avaline opened the gate to the estate. Then, she opened the stable door. The two horses lifted their heads, snorting. Humming, Avaline snatched the horse bridle from the barn wall and went up to the first horse, Clover.
"It's okay," Avaline whispered. "You know me."
Swallowing thickly, Avaline placed the bridle around Clover's head. Breathing heavily, she walked Clover out of the barn. Dolton stirred in the other stable. Outside, Avaline placed the saddle on him, then checked his hooves.
It wasn't until they were on the street that Avaline finally mounted the horse. She glanced behind her one last time before riding into the night. If Lord Nightingale could visit her uninvited, then she should be able to as well.
***
Sebastian leaned back in his chair. His office lay in darkness with the curtains drawn. Tiredly, he rubbed his eyes. Despite the medicine and the physician's visits, Delilah's fever hadn't broken. Sebastian had stayed at his sister's side through all hours of the day and night. He had left the estate work to Mr. Timmons.
The sharp knock from the butler made him wince.
"Yes?" Sebastian rumbled.
"My lord," said the man. "Lady Stark...she's, she's come to visit."
Sebastian stumbled out of his chair. The lady? He glanced down at his wrinkled clothes. He couldn't meet her like this.
"Have her wait in the lounge," he ordered. "And, prepare some refreshments."
Sebastian rushed out of his office toward his bedroom. Why would she visit so late? How had she come? Sebastian had meant to answer her letters, but with Delilah so weak, he hadn't dared to be away from her.
With cold water, Sebastian washed his face and fixed his hair. He pulled a few clothes out of his wardrobe and settled for dark clothing. Just outside the lounge, he adjusted his tie and his vest before stepping inside.
Dim candles brightened the room. Lady Stark stood as he entered. The coat around her shoulders was large and not fit for a lady. A growl rumbled in his chest. Whose coat was she wearing? As he stepped closer, the tension eased out of his chest. Dark floral patterns on the coat adorned the sleeves and collar. The coat belonged to him.
Lady Stark curtsied. "May Luna light your way," she said.
Her scent fluttered around her, and Sebastian breathed deeply. A smile pulled at his lips.
He bowed. "May Luan guide your path." Sebastian gestured to the couch. "To what do I owe this visit?"
Hesitating, Avaline sat. "Forgive my rudeness," she said. "I wanted to see you."
Stunned, Sebastian's words died on his tongue. Was she not cross with him for ignoring her letters? After their last exchange, he should have been more careful and considerate. Instead, he had acted brutishly. He had no excuse.
Clearing his throat, Sebastian sat across from her. "I should be apologizing," he said. "I haven't acted very gentlemanly."
Avaline crossed her arms. "So, you do know."
Sebastian folded his hands together. "I will not pretend I don't."
Silence stretched between them. Sebastian wanted to explain, but would Lady Stark understand? This was blood-born business, and he didn't want to say too much. What if he frightened her? Blood-borns didn't share too many of their lives with humans for a reason. It was a miracle that Lady Stark had continued to associate herself with him.
"Will you need my employment?" she asked.
Sebastian pressed his thumb into the back of his hand. The back of his throat prickled. He should have expected the coldness in her voice.
He couldn't meet her gaze. "Not at this time," he said. "Delilah is . . . she must take a break."
Lady Stark shifted forward. Worry coated the air around her. The change brought a tingle to Sebastian's nose.
"Is she... in good health?" Her voice was softened.
Sebastian hesitated. "She is in good hands. I shall have Mr. Timmons send your pay to Stark Manor." He clenched his jaw. "It's not appropriate to visit so late. There will be rumors."
He hated how distant he could easily make his voice sound. It was even worse with how Lady Stark's breath hitched, and her blood rushed quicker. It's for the best, he thought to himself. The sooner he distanced himself from her, the sooner those behind closed doors would stop smearing her name.
Lady Stark stood. "Yes," she said. "You're right. It is late."
She walked past the table. Sebastian glanced at her boots. Bits of soil and rocks stained the sole. Had she walked here? Concern blossomed in his chest. It was too dangerous. Why would she risk herself? Why...?
Lady Stark marched up to Sebastian. Surprised, he glanced up. Her braid hovered in the air between them. She placed her hand on the couch behind him. With a dark gaze, she leaned forward.
Swallowing thickly, Sebastian leaned back until he couldn't go any further. His gaze jumped to her eyes, to her throat. His ears were filled with the sound of her pulse. His arms slumped down, palms facing up.
Her gaze softened. "What about you? Are you in good health?"
His bravado wavered. His throat closed. He tried keeping his voice from shaking as he spoke. "I'll manage."
The air between them hummed. Sebastian's hands itched. She was close. If he lifted his hands, he could grab the edge of his coat. Her scent was mixed with his, and it was divine. His gums itched. Saliva pooled in his mouth, and he swallowed again.
"You spoke with Sister Tucker," she whispered. Her plump lips pressed together in a thin line.
His gaze was inadvertently drawn to them.
"Yes," he confessed. "It was in passing."
The way she tilted her head, exposing her neck, made him shudder. His gaze followed the smooth skin from her jaw to the crook of her neck. He shifted forward and froze. Sebastian glanced at Lady Stark's face; she didn't seem to notice.
"Thank you," she said. With one hand still on the couch, the other hand brushed a few strands of hair away from his face. "Is there something I can do for you?"
Sebastian's voice thickened as he spoke. "None, my lady. I, I didn't act with the intent of receiving a reward."
"Avaline," she said. "Call me by my name."
Desire gripped Sebastian's throat. He turned away. No. He couldn't. If the lady knew...Soft fingers brushed his face before they wrapped around his chin.
Pained, Sebastian gazed into Avaline's eyes. They held warmth and... could he dare believe it? He leaned forward, searching her expression for any hint of rejection. When there was none, Sebastian glanced at her lips again. They called to him like a siren.
A sharp knock on the door caused them to jump apart.
"My lord," came Mr. Timmons's frightful voice. "It's the young miss!"
Sebastian's passion cooled. He turned to Avaline once before rushing out the door.