Heart Change Page 9

  That made no sense. “A what?”

  “Someone whose Flair changes the lives around her.”

  He considered that for a moment. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of such a thing.”

  Signet grimaced. “No one knows much about it, including me. People come into my life and if they stay long enough . . . their lives change.” Her mouth twitched up in a smile that didn’t hide the hurt in her eyes. “So far, for the better.”

  There was a moment of quiet. Then her face set into impassive lines, and she looked at the dark windows. “So you see, if you spend time with me, your life will no doubt change.” This time her mouth curved down. “A passive Flair.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve seen you at GreatRituals, experienced your energy cycling. Your Flair is strong and active.” He realized in that moment it was true. He’d always been aware of her energy. He’d always been placed in some particular spot to balance energies or something. Usually he felt little, maybe a nudge, when others felt great sweeping waves. When D’Marigold was there, he’d always felt her energy, but never so much as the fir st time.

  Her smile bloomed. “That’s a lovely thing to say.”

  “It’s the truth.”

  She nodded, but he didn’t think she believed him. “But if you stay with me, my Flair will act on you to change your life.”

  “My life has already been changed today.”

  Again her expression froze, and this time he couldn’t resist reaching over and putting a finger under her chin, requesting she look at him full on again. Her blue eyes were large. “My life won’t be the same when I return to T’Hawthorn Residence.” His turn to frown. “But your Flair wasn’t responsible, it was Vinni T’Vine and D’Hazel and T’Hawthorn.” Her skin was so smooth under his fingers. Did she feel his hard calluses from blazer and sword? He shouldn’t be touching her, but he didn’t want to stop, and this was a time of truths. “Your life changed, too. It won’t ever be the same after today, will it?”

  She shook her head slowly.

  He continued. “We’re like two dice shaken in a cup.”

  Her pale arched brows went up. “I’ll take the roll.”

  A sigh came from deep within his chest. “Me, too.”

  He leaned to her, slowly, slowly, letting her pull away. But though her eyes widened even more as she understood he was going to kiss her, he thought they went as dazed as his own must be. He angled his head to brush her lips with his own, press. Sweet softness. Or soft sweetness. To his surprise, there wasn’t only sweetness as he expected, but a hint of tart, like lime. Then his mind went dizzy just from the wave of feeling from his mouth.

  Her lips opened, and the tip of her tongue touched his mouth, and not-so-sweet hunger clawed him.

  No.

  He would not roll onto the flo or, put her under him, give in to all sorts of new urges, new needs, new images flooding his mind along with the heat flooding his sex. He was harder than he’d been in a long, long time.

  When he pulled away and stood, he was panting.

  She still appeared princess-like, then her cheeks reddened, and he followed her gaze to the front of his trous, erection evident. It looked rude to him. He made an involuntary noise, also rude.

  Signet looked up at him and smiled with that hint of tartness. Then she rose, too, her body brushing his, and he grunted-groaned again. Yeah, that was sweet and a little mean. Woman, not princess. He thought he might like the contrast.

  She put her elegant hands on his cheeks, and they were cool, so he knew the heat of his desire was pumping off him. Her smile faded, and that cleared his brain a little. Then her hands dropped away, and he focused on her serious face.

  “Avellana is with me because everyone hopes that my Flair will change something in her—her aura or Flair or brainwaves, so that she will survive her First Passage.” Signet’s chin set. “If I can link with her somehow during her Passage, if I can learn to direct this Flair of mine, I’ll make sure she survives. But you should know that my Flair will probably work on you, too. I will change your life.”

  He found his voice, raspy but under control. “Signet, we all change each other’s lives when we come in contact with each other. Alter opinions or points of view. Share experiences.” Maybe he shouldn’t have said that, now his mind had gone to the kiss and the wanting. “Change each other when we rub up against—” He simply stopped.

  Laughter rippled from her.

  “Lives usually change when people interact.” His jaw flexed. What a mess. But he was serious.

  She looked him in the eyes, serious, too. “I agree.”

  His brain started to buzz.

  “And thank you. I hadn’t thought of it that way. I haven’t thought much about this Flair of mine. I just learned about it today.”

  Before he could move, she rose to her toes and kissed him again. Nice pressure on his lips. Then she glided from the room, and he thought he saw more of a swing in her walk.

  And left him with a tart-sweet taste that he wanted more of.

  Nine

  The next morning was so full that Signet didn’t take her usual walk along the cliff. Breakfast was lively, with a high-spirited Avellana and three Fams jockeying for status. Du won.

  Then Lahsin Holly came to finish the spellshields, and Cratag asked for a full tour of the Residence. That interested Avellana, and she came, too. They started at the top, in the small circular observation room that was the highest of the tiered layers of the main turret. Avellana ran to each of the windows and oohed at the view, especially of the ocean. Her Fam stopped on the threshold, but both Du and Beadle hopped-walked around the window seats and peered out.

  Signet hadn’t thought of Cratag’s kiss more than fifty times. For being so short it had been remarkably sexy, sizzling through her in a fashion she’d almost forgotten. Making her recall sex. Making her consider sex with Cratag, and that sent more than tingles through her body. So big. In every way . . . a heart as big as his . . . .

  Beadle sicked up food and hair on Cratag’s shoes, and the Residence cleaned the room and Signet his feet as he stood stoically, a pained expression on his face.

  Avellana laughed.

  “I’m glad I could amuse you,” he said to her.

  The girl whirled, arms out. “This is the first day I’ve ever spent without my Family.”

  She wasn’t acting like the formal miniature adult Signet had met the day before. Signet would have thought that Avellana would have been worried at being with strangers, but it seemed not. She must know, sense, that neither Cratag nor Signet nor the Fams would let anything happen to her. Signet herself could feel determination radiating from Cratag.

  Five more beings to cater to Avellana? No.

  “You aren’t allowed up here without a human adult,” Signet reminded. She hadn’t told Avellana how to open the windows.

  “I know.” Avellana nodded.

  A housekeeping spell whisked the room, leaving the spicy scent of marigold behind. Signet smiled approval and thanked the Residence.

  “The third flo or next,” Cratag said. “I’ve already seen the sitting room, the teleportation room, and Avellana’s and my suites, but I want to check all the others.”

  Signet slid a glance to him. It wouldn’t be just a ploy to look at her suite. The man took his work seriously, but when her gaze caught his, he reddened a little. She smiled smugly. He was aware of her.

  He’d wanted her last night.

  Avellana descended the spiral stairs then ran through the long hall of the main wing, turned right out of sight into the short north wing, the cats streaming after her. Cratag lengthened his strides to catch up with her.

  “There’s a big turret on the end of this wing, too,” she called. “I didn’t know.”

  Signet hurried along. “For aesthetic integrity,” she answered. “The first T’Marigold was an architect. We have lessons on architecture in your schedule.”


  Avellana was waiting by the tower door hopping from foot to foot. Cratag opened it.

  “It’s a bedroom!” Avellana exclaimed.

  “It’s a full suite with its own staircase,” Signet said. “This is the top floor, below is the sitting room, and on the bottom is a small dining area with no-times, though they are quite old.” She looked at Cratag. “There isn’t a hot-square.”

  He nodded. He was being very polite and quiet today.

  And he was wearing fashionable loose trous.

  The Residence said, “An incoming call from Laev Hawthorn for Cratag Maytree.”

  Cratag raised a brow. “Is there a scrybowl—”

  “Here it is. Oooh, how pretty. Like everything else,” Avellana cooed. The bowl was thick pottery of navy blue, the contrasting color of the suite with blue-gray walls.

  “Is there water in it?” Signet asked. She didn’t think she’d been in this room since Yule two and a half months before.

  “Of course,” the Residence said.

  “Yes.” Avellana looked into it. “Vinni’s colors are mixed in with the Hawthorns’.”

  Smiling, Cratag said, “That settles it, I must answer.”

  “Yes,” Signet said.

  He crossed to the bowl set on a simple redwood table and ran his finger around the rim of the bowl, initiating the spell. Water droplets formed over the bowl, showing images: a handsome boy of about seventeen with brown hair along with the Hawthorn violet eyes. At his shoulder stood Vinni T’Vine.

  “Greetyou, cuz,” Laev said.

  That sent a little jolt through Signet. Obviously Cratag was regarded very well in T’Hawthorn’s household if he was “cuz” to the Heir. More than just distant Family and the chief of T’Hawthorn’s guards. Close to his Family. An integral part of his Family. Envy twisted inside her. Wisps of notions of maybe more than an affair vanished with a painful throb of surprise that she’d even been imagining something so vague in the future.

  “Do you need privacy?” she asked coolly.

  Of course he’d caught her tone, he was the most observant man she’d ever met.

  “No,” Avellana answered for him.

  “No,” he said, smiled at Signet, and turned back to the scry.

  “D’Marigold,” said the Residence, “Lahsin Holly would like to speak with you in the main sitting room.”

  “I’ll be right there.” Signet smiled brightly at Cratag. “Excuse me.”

  He nodded. Since Avellana didn’t budge, Signet deduced the girl was interested in talking to Vinni. The bond between them was touching. Signet strode out.

  Cratag was slightly preoccupied by Signet’s manner . . . something had changed—again—between them, but he had a feeling that during this whole time at D’Marigold Residence change would be the order of the day.

  “Cratag?” Laev said. He was smiling and a little flushed, but there was a shadow behind his eyes, as had been there during the terrible time of the feud. What had happened to put that haunting there? What had T’Hawthorn said to him of this business? Less than a day away from home and Cratag was already out of touch.

  “Yes, Laev?” He kept his tone brusque. Laev would be more concerned if Cratag gentled his voice.

  “Our training session is done, and there is a youth holiday—no apprenticeships or journeyman septhours, no grovestudy. Vinni said he was going there, to D’Marigold Residence. May I come, too?”

  “One moment, I’ll ask D’Marigold.” If he’d been anyone else, a nobleman, he’d be able to speak to her mentally when she was at the opposite end of the house. As it was, he thought he could vaguely sense she was talking with Lahsin Holly. Which was more than he could have done two days before . . . was his minuscule Flair growing? No time to consider that.

  “Signet would say that since you are living here, you should invite whom you please,” Avellana pronounced with a lift of her small nose, just as if she hadn’t been making faces at Vinni a moment before.

  “Residence?” Cratag asked.

  “Avellana is correct,” the Residence said.

  “Sure, come over, Laev,” Cratag said, satisfaction washing through him. The boy loved him. Cratag recalled the beautiful suite Signet had given him. The day was sunny, and his view of the green ing gardens was nice. Laev would appreciate a view of gardens more than of ocean.

  “Vinni, we are at the end of the other wing,” Avellana said. “Left when you teleport, but I’ll beat you to the teleportation room!”

  With a muttered word from Laev the scry ended.

  “Avellana,” Cratag said as she raced from the room. “You are not to go into the teleportation chamber.”

  She didn’t slow down.

  “Avellana, stop!” He used his tone of command.

  Huffing a breath, she stopped, stuck out her lower lip. “I won’t win, now.”

  “No, but when I make a request of you, I’d like an acknowledgment that you heard me.”

  “You were shouting down the hall. I heard you!”

  “I wasn’t shouting. I was projecting my voice. Again, I’d like an acknowledgment when I request something of you.”

  “Yes, GentleSir Maytree,” she muttered.

  “Good.”

  Boys’ hoots came from the teleportation room. Avellana grumbled under her breath, then marched at a slower, long-suffering type of pace to the end of the hall and around the corner.

  Laev had been such a subdued boy for his years that Cratag had worried. Looked like he wouldn’t have such a peaceful time with Avellana.

  The boys appeared, and Vinni went immediately to Avellana and hugged her, grinned when he saw her in high spirits.

  Laev looked around. “Very pretty place.” He glanced down the opposite end of the hallway where the glass-paned double doors to the sitting room were open, bright at the end of the hall. If Cratag had left his own doors open, sunlight would be streaming into the corridor from them.

  Narrowing his eyes, Laev stared at the sitting room. “Oh, this is that house with the big peach tiered turret that looks like a wedding cake.”

  Cratag hadn’t considered it before, but now the image was stuck in his head, he knew Laev was right.

  “I didn’t know this place was D’Marigold Residence. Fab place,” Laev said.

  “Thank you,” D’Marigold Residence said in its rolling voice.

  “Welcome,” Laev said.

  “You’ve seen it?” Cratag asked.

  “Yeah, the turret can be seen from along the river or the beach.”

  From other Noble Country estates. But Cratag hadn’t been on the beach or the river very often. Since they were opposite Cratag’s rooms now, he opened the door. When Laev made sincerely appreciative noises, Cratag’s pride got a boost. He may not live like this in T’Hawthorn’s Residence with a whole suite, and his lord might have traded him out, but here he was valued.

  Then Signet came in and blushed at the sight of him, and his ego lifted more. Cratag introduced her to Laev—who winked at Cratag as he bowed over her hand—and they finished a quick tour of the Residence. The little girl looked at Signet with a scrunched face when they came to the nice “oldie” room tinted a pale gold and with doors opening onto the grounds.

  Vinni was happy to be with Avellana, and Laev had been polite. He studied the style of the Residence as if considering options for his own rooms or—Cratag realized with a jolt—for T’Hawthorn Residence when he’d become the lord. Signet and the Residence answered his questions on the use of tinting and mirrors and murals to make a Residence seem lighter and airier than its actual space.

  Then they went to lunch. Cratag’s only embarrassment was when Beadle slurped his meal with gusto.

  The early afternoon was spent examining the river and beach side of the estate for security purposes, and Signet showed them the limits of her property. The south edge of her estate bordered a river. The cut in the land for the zig-zagging stone steps down the hillside held a gate. There was a walk to a boathouse that had a wide deck
over the opening for a couple of boats. The skinny strip of river bank was muddy, so they didn’t go down all the way.

  In the west were cliffs to the ocean. Another stone gate was at the top of the path to the beach. The steps down and switchbacked path itself were in excellent repair but very steep. The beach was wide and sandy near the stairs, then narrowed to rocks toward the south and the river outlet and to the north and the Residence. Once again Avellana and Vinni had to promise that they wouldn’t attempt the ocean steps without a human adult.

  To Cratag’s surprise, Beadle had said that he’d been kept strictly indoors with his former elderly owner who’d passed on peacefully in his sleep. The Fam was very excited and a little wary at being outdoors. He kept close to Cratag, or ran around, then returned to him.

  Du, Signet’s Fam, sniffed and offered to show Beadle the three Fam doors in the Residence to “out.”

  At MidAfternoonBell, Hanes arrived to escort Vinni home. By that time they were all taking refreshments in the sitting room. Hanes bowed to Signet and Avellana and Vinni, inclined his torso to Laev—HawthornHeir—and nodded to Cratag, giving each person their proper due. He complimented each Fam.

  Then he eyed the slight wavering haze around the open windows and smiled in satisfaction. “I see GreatMistrys Holly has been here and the Residential spellshields are up.”

  “Yes,” Signet said, frowning. “They are evident, but Lahsin gave me spellwords to drop them if I want to appreciate the view more.” She glanced at Avellana and Vinni. “A couplet I won’t be telling you.”

  Hanes nodded. “Youngsters should not have such knowledge.” Since he included Laev in this, the young man’s pride was ruffled. Hanes went on. “We have a First Quarter Twinmoons Ceremony tonight, T’Vine, that you will lead at moons rising.” Hanes glanced at his wrist timer. “Preparation time for the GreatLord is two septhours. We are cutting it close.”

  The other nobles glanced at Vinni.

  Avellana stuck out her chin and said in her most adult voice, “Most houses think that preparation time for a First Quarter Ceremony can be only a septhour.”