Heir of Pendel (A Pandoran Novel, #4) (14 page)

"I know, Danton. It's fine. I understand."

He nodded once. "Dinner…?"

"Sure. If you think you'll be done by then."

"I'll make sure I am. You and I will talk then."

"Good. I'd like that. Is there a time and place I should meet you?"

"I'll come get you." He grabbed my hand and stared at it a long moment before meeting my gaze with those so-blue eyes. "Thank you, Daria." He squeezed my hand, then let go and retreated down the hall before I could say another word.

I'd been in my room ever since, waiting for Danton to come get me. Thankfully, Anna had brought a stack of books to my room to keep me preoccupied. The first stack she'd brought was a mix of steamy romance novels, knitting patterns, and a magazine filled with colorful sketches of current fashions that looked like something from the nineteenth century (no, thank you). (Also, since when did Gaia have fashion magazines?) Apparently, these were the sorts of books Lady Isla had preferred. I'd explained that Lady Isla and I had very different tastes and asked Anna if there were any books about Orindor and its history. Anna had given me a puzzled look, then gathered the romantic stack and left, returning with a new stack of what I deemed reading material.

I'd picked up a book about Orindor's commerce. If I was going to make a difference here, I needed to learn as much about it as possible. Alex would have teased me about my literary choice, even though he'd have been proud.

Alex.

Did he ache for me as I ached for him? I wanted him to hurt like I hurt, even though I knew it was selfish. I was the one who had left him in order to marry someone else. What I should have been hoping was that he'd move on and find happiness elsewhere, but it made me upset thinking about Alex happy with anyone else. No, it made me furious thinking about Alex with anyone else, period, happy or no. The truth was, if I was being completely honest, I wanted him to be as miserable as I was. Was that so wrong?

Yes. Yes, it is.

With a sigh, I reached down and picked up the book. Mining was Orindor's primary source of revenue, and by the pages and pages of minerals listed, Orindor probably generated quite a bit. No wonder all the extra rooms were named after gems—mine included. Maybe I should show some Orindor spirit and start carrying around a pickaxe. I smiled to myself, picturing Lord Pontefract's expression when I showed up to his grand hall with a pickaxe swinging from my belt. Docile indeed.

At six o'clock, Danton knocked on my door. He came into my room to find me and my books sprawled across my bed, and when I looked up and realized it was him and not Anna, I sat up.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything important…?"

"No, uh, hey…" I scratched my head, looking at my literary mess, and then I realized I was still in my riding ensemble. "I lost track of time. How'd it go?" I swung my legs over the edge of my bed and faced him.

His smile was weary. "It went. It's done."

"That well, huh?"

He ruffled the tips of his blond hair—a surprisingly casual gesture—and glanced at my window. "Are you hungry?"

All right, so he didn't want to talk about his conversation with Isla, but I knew I'd still feel the brunt of its aftermath. "Now that you mention it…yes. Books fill minds, but they don’t fill stomachs very well."

Danton's attention returned to me and he approached, snatching up a volume resting on the end of my bed. "The Rise and Fall of the Estroian Empire…?"

"I've got nineteen years of learning to catch up on."

He set the book down and rested his palm on the cover. "Most women I know prefer books centered around romantic fantasies."

"Well, I can't help you run a territory on romance and daydreams."

His eyes moved over my face. "You are an enigma."

"How?"

"Most of those same women use beauty and coquetry to influence rather than employ the use of their mind—as you do. Yet you are still, perhaps, the most beautiful woman I've ever met."

My cheeks flared as I glanced down, suddenly uncomfortable. "That's…nice of you to say," I said, not wanting to seem ungrateful, but I didn't want his compliments, either. They made me feel as if I'd done something wrong. "So, should I change?"

"Change?" He looked confused. "I intended it as a compliment. I don't want you to change—"

"No…" I laughed. "I meant for dinner."

"Ah, yes, of course." He smiled, showing his teeth. "No, what you're wearing is perfect. I thought we might go for a ride."

"A ride? In this weather?"

"It's only drizzling now. You're not afraid of a little rain, are you?" He leveled a challenging look on me.

"No…"

"Good, because if I'm to right my wrongs, as promised, I can't have any eavesdroppers."

"You mean you don't want anyone else thinking you're really a decent man in disguise?"

His smile transformed him into something…elegantly human. "It won't be a long ride," he said, "just over a rise and to a covered rotunda where we can eat and talk in private."

"And you're not at all worried about flooding?"

"No, we get downpours like this often, and there are plenty of small bridges between here and there that were built for that very purpose. Our road will be clear. Trust me, I've done this often."

I let out something of a snort. "Have you, now."

"I…ah…" He scratched the back of his neck and his cheeks splotched pink, realizing what he'd just admitted.

I slid off my bed. "Never mind. I don’t want to know. And besides…I'm starved."

Galloping through the "drizzle" was muddy and wet. A few rivers raged along the way, but just like Danton had said, there were bridges in place to cross over them. We detoured when necessary, and within about fifteen minutes, we reached the aforementioned rotunda, hidden amidst a small forest of trees seated on top of a hill. We were wet to the bone and our boots and horses were caked in mud. Danton dismounted and headed for me, but realized I'd already dismounted too, so he went back to his horse and unstrapped the leather satchel he'd brought. We led our horses beneath the covered porch and out of the rain, and then I followed Danton inside.

The rotunda was circular, crowned with a white, marble dome, but it was intimate and small and, more importantly, private. Heavy crimson draperies hung from the ceiling, pulled back to show off the gorgeous leaded-glass cathedral windows. In the center of the white marble flooring, an octagon had been cut right out of the tiles for burning a fire, and all around the fancy fire pit were plush crimson benches and crimson cushions embroidered in black. It was a neat little building, if not a little romantic, and I felt bad leaving my muddy footprints on the pristine white marble floor.

Energy pulsed from Danton, and a small fire burst to life in the fire pit, giving the interior a soft, warm glow. He peeled off his cloak, laid it over a bench and then shook out his now-brown hair. I followed suit, and then sat across from him on a large cushion beside the fire, and I crossed my legs beneath me. He was already pulling items out of his pack and setting them between us—starting with a bottle of wine.

"I see you're also a diplomatic drinker," I said.

He grinned. "I don't consider this diplomacy, which is why I brought something sweeter for you."

I raised a brow.

"This wine is made from conscia fruit, which happens to be a favorite of my father's, though hard to come by since conscia trees rarely produce fruit anymore. The occasion warranted something special, and I think you may actually like the flavor of this."

I had a sudden memory of Tran when I'd first met him, telling me something about conscia trees and the Pontefracts.

Danton pulled out a lump of cheese. "I apologize for the informal dinner. I'm not much of a cook, but if we'd dined in the hall, we would've had an audience and then we would've been forced to censor ourselves."

"No apology needed," I said. "This is perfect—really. I love riding, and I'd take a ride in the rain any day over those silly court dinners."

He paused to grin up at me and then went back to pulling things from his pack. More cheese, some grapes, some freshly baked bread that was still steaming. "Good. Though you know you'll have your fill of those silly court dinners living here."

"Unavoidable. I know."

He poured two glasses of wine and handed one to me. "Did you attend many of them at Castle Regius?"

I took my glass from him. "Initially, yes. But when my grandfather decided he didn't like anything I had to say, he started asking I
not
attend."

Danton laughed as he sipped his wine. "I don’t believe that tactic will work so well with my father."

"Yes, I think I'm going to have to reevaluate my tactics altogether," I said, taking a slow sip. The wine wasn't so bad. It was a little on the fruity side and bubbled on my tongue like a spritzer.

Danton looked to me for my reaction, and I gave him an affirmative nod. He smiled, pleased but unsurprised. "Speaking of court dinners," he continued, "there's no getting out of tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow night…?" I had no idea what he was referring to, and then I remembered. The engagement party. "Right.
That
." And then I thought how strange it was that Danton hadn't actually asked me to marry him. Was he planning to? I wasn't sure how these things worked. But shouldn't I at least have a ring, or something? Not that I was going to ask him for one, and then I suddenly remembered I was still wearing Alex's necklace. Danton couldn't see it, of course, because it lay hidden beneath my shirt, but wearing it while talking to Danton about…
this
made me feel like a terrible person. Maybe I was a terrible person.

"Don't sound so thrilled about the prospect," Danton teased, then picked up a piece of bread and chewed on it.

"It's not that," I lied. "It's just…I don't like public gatherings. Particularly when I'm the subject." Which was true.

He chuckled, swallowing his bread. "I'm not sure I can help you there. You're going to be a subject for the rest of your life, you know."

"Yes…" I set my glass down. "Is there anything I need to do to prepare for tomorrow night? One day isn't much time."

He shook his head and took another sip. "My father won't need much time. We have an entire staff working to get things in proper order, and Anna will help you with your dress and other things you ladies do. About an hour before, my mother will fetch you for the rehearsal, but other than that, all you'll need to do is smile and try to be as congenial as possible."

"You sound scared," I said.

He grinned. "Perhaps I am a little."

I grinned back, and then said, "Your father mentioned someone. A Sir…?"

"Sir Dunmore," he answered. "He's our general, who is preparing Orindor's men as we speak."

That was good news. Lord Pontefract
was
following through with his end of the bargain. "And do you think it'll take a whole week for them to get to Castle Regius?"

Danton rubbed his chin. "Yes, I do, but Sir Dunmore is a talented general. My father wouldn't have chosen him for the position, otherwise. The men listen to him, and if he can get them there sooner, he will."

That would have to be enough. I didn't like it, but as Lord Pontefract had reminded me, if I'd wanted Orindor's help sooner, I should've come when the proposal was first made. Actually, I should've reciprocated interest when they'd first shown it six months ago. One didn't mess with Lord Pontefract's ego.

"We're doing everything we can, Daria." Danton's eyes melted into that liquid blue.

"I know you are. Thank you." I just wished I could do more. I wished I could do
now
. I thumbed the glass in my hands. "What's your mother like?"

Danton grabbed another piece of bread and put a slice of cheese on top of it. He chose his words carefully. "Elegant and extremely reserved. She's not unfriendly…she just chooses to keep to herself. I imagine she has to, married to someone like my father." He took a bite and chewed slowly. "But she's always been a loving mother to my brother and me."

"I didn't know you had a brother," I said, surprised. There'd been no word of a brother during the festival games.

Danton nodded, swallowing. "Carter. He lives with cousins of ours in a town called Hivarre, about a three-hour's ride from here. He's a bit…unruly, and father didn't have much patience for him, so mother sent him to live with her family. My mother's thought was that Carter might have a better chance at finding his own identity away from father and me."

This made me unexpectedly sad. "How old is Carter?"

"He turned fifteen just last month."

Danton was the oldest. No surprise there. "Do you two get along?"

"Not very," Danton admitted. "We don't have much in common. He has no interest in politics or swordplay; he'd rather be building something with his hands or digging in the fields. Servants' work, as Father calls it, and Father is always on to him for not being more like me."

I felt for Carter. Having a father like Lord Pontefract was bad enough without him despising you for not having the "correct" blend of interests. "Does your father always treat you that way?" I asked quietly.

Danton took a slow breath, and then his glass
tinked
as he set it down on the tile beside him. "Father is…a very complex man."

"All people are complex, Danton. That doesn't give them any right to treat others the way he treated you this morning."

Danton thumbed the rim of his glass. "He's not always so harsh. He's been under a lot of pressure lately, and his temper flares more and more."

I set my glass down. Here was my open door. I just hoped Danton would be on the other side waiting, as he'd promised. "You mentioned that earlier…this pressure. What kind of pressure?"

Danton hesitated and glanced to one of the windows as if reassuring himself no one stood there. "From his brother, mostly—my uncle, Lord Tiernan. He wants my father to swear his allegiance to Lord Eris."

Good. Maybe Danton would speak openly with me. "But your father hasn't sworn Orindor yet…?"