The Heartwood Box: A Fairy Tale (9 page)

Genevieve wrestled her brain back to
lucidity
in order to greet this third brother, who
bowed formally over
her hand
as if she were Queen Titania herself, which made her giggle nervously
.
But when
his head lifted
, t
he laugh caught in her throat.

No one had ever looked at her like that, as if he were daring her to bolt
.
She instinctively tried to pull her hand back, but he didn’t release it, as if to make clear that he had her trapped
.
Genevieve knew she
should
make
some light remark, but she could only stand there blinking like a
n animal cornered by a hunter.

It was Donal who broke the spell
with an apologetic cough
.
“I hope my new sister can forgive me if I dig in, but I think I’ll expire if I don’t tast
e your mother’s sausage pie.”

There was a general movement then
.
Derek released her hand and took his seat as Damian held the chair for her
.
Luckily, there was no pressure for her to play hostess, which gave Genevieve time to recover
her
equilibrium
.
Mama spent the next five minutes making sure their guests had enough food, offering to send to the bakery if they didn’t find something to their liking
.

Genevieve felt some pity for her, even as she wanted to laugh
.
T
he Blacks were unfailingly polite over a spread that must be lavish by
most
standard
s
.
Mama
was an excellent cook and had old-fashioned notions of hospitality that prompted her to awake
n
hours before dawn so that her table would be worthy of the Black Prince’s family members
.

On offer this morning were baked eggs, three different types of pie—sausage, apple and quince—an entire ham, and a platter of her special sweet-cheese rolls
.

While her mother concerned herself with the guests, Genevieve examine
d
her new family
.
The three brothers presented an odd triptych: Damian in the middle, confident, friendly, reassuring to her mother, and somehow in command of himself and the room, then on either side his brothers, who each looked like Damian, only in some utterly foreign mood
.

Donal’s eyes were bright with barely suppressed hilarity, his look that of a child who ha
s
just stolen the tarts off the tea tray beneath his mother’s nose
.
Derek, for his part, sported a ferocious scowl that would have been better suited to a duel with the Demon
K
ing himself than breakfast at Mama’s table
.

As she looked she noticed other
,
subtler
differences
.
Donal’s hair had a slight curl, unlike his brothers’, which was poker straight
.
Derek wore his hair longer than the other two
, with
bangs
that
fell over his
forehead obscuring his
eyes,
which
only made him seem more off-putting
.
Despite his scowl, she noticed that
his lips were fuller
than his brothers


almost sensual, though she quickly put aside such an improper thought
.

Without question, they were all extraordinarily handsome

and so large they seemed in danger of splintering the small dining chairs
.
There was a dissonance to their very presence in this room with its pale yellow walls and pink
chintz
curtains
.

Genevieve’s observations were interrupted by her mother’s concerned cry
.
“Jenny!  You’ve barely taken a bite!  And you missed supper, too!  You’re going to waste away!” 

“Mama,” she hissed, blushing fiercely to have the old argument aired in front of her new family, especially when she realized that all three Black brothers had turned their attention fully on her.

“I’m afraid you missed lunch as well

thanks to me,
” Damian said apologetically.

“What!” Derek burst out
to everyone’s surprise
.

“Oh Jenny!  You missed lunch!” her mother
cried, now completely alarmed.

“I’m not… I wasn’t…
I don’t eat that much.”

“Is she difficu
lt in her eating, Mrs. Miran?”
Donal asked in a
sympathetic
tone
that to Genevieve’s ear also contained a hint of irony that would be lost on
Mama
.

It seemed her new brother understood his mark
.
I
t was a favorite topic, and her mother immediately launched into a lengthy, detailed litany of her daughter’s poor appetite, the many times they’d sent for the healer on the theory that Jenny suffered from indigestion (w
hich she emphatically did not!)
,
the
long periods she’d been forbidden her favorite drink of water brightened with sliced lemons
, the bland dishes she’d been forced to eat (as if she were an infant!)
,
finishing up with Mama’s favorite lament about its effect on “Jenny’s beautiful figure,” until Genevieve thoug
ht she’d die of embarrassment.

Donal’s face was the picture of concern, but again Genevieve easily detected the mirth lurking beneath
.
She was right, the scoundrel had known! 
And he’d probably been mocking her about using the water closet as well! 
She felt a sudden urge to empty her
water glass
on his head
.

Her ire cooled rapidly
,
however
,
when she caught a glimpse of Derek’s face
.
F
or some inexplicable reason
he was furious
and
looked ready to
throttle
her
.

F
ortunately
Damian made a clucking sound and caught her chin to turn her face to his
.
“Genevieve, this won’t do!  You must eat properly
.
Mrs. Miran, I give my word
.
M
y brothers and I will see to it that your daughter
no longer skip
s
meals
.
If we must tie her to her chair, she will eat her food!” 

“Oh Mr. Black,”
Mama
cried joyfully, “I’m sure she’ll do it for you.”

“I know she will,” Damian said with a knowing smile that made Genevieve
’s eyes glaze for a second
.

She turned to her food for distraction, realizing that she was indeed ravenous
.
They had company so
seldom
, Genevieve forgot herself and started gulping down her
egg
s
.

“Manners, Jenny,” her mother tsked
.
“Eat like a lady
!  W
hat will Mr. Black think
?
” 

Genevieve looked up mortified, but Damian and Donal were laughing, though Derek’s look was accusatory
.

“I’m afraid
,
Mrs. Miran, she comes to a home that has long been without a
l
ady’s influence

not since our mother died,” Damian said.

“No one would notice if she gobbles down her food and then lifts the plate to lick it clean,” Donal said flatly.

“Oh dear!” her mother said, patting her lips with her napkin
.
“Though if you can get Jenny to eat…” she said considering
.
“I begin to see it is an excellent thing indeed that you will marry tomorrow.” 

“Tomorrow?”
Genevieve
burst out
over a bite of sweet
-cheese
roll
.
Swallowing her food, she added,

Is
it always so fast?” 

Since the disastrous night with her
music
, she’d avoided wedding
feasts
.
She couldn’t remember how soon they usually took place after the
Bridal Week
couples had formed
.

“Not always,” Damian answered with a little glint in his eye
.
“But Declan wishes to attend ours, and tomorrow is the best day for him.”

“Declan
?
The Black Prince
?
From Faeri
e—he’s coming to the wedding?”
Genevieve was dumfounded
.
He might as well have said Titania herself was coming
.
And yet Damian spoke of Declan as he might an uncle or grandparent.

“He wouldn’t miss it for anything,” he said, giving her a look so warm and affectionate, her heart leapt
.
He truly looked happy
.
That seemed even more extraordinary than that a Fae Prince was planning to attend her wedding
.

Which would take place tomorrow
.
Tomorrow! 

It was difficult after that to sit and eat breakfast, but she noticed Derek glaring at her
.
He nodded at her plate, warning her she’d better finish
.
Genevieve brist
led
,
but she did
clean
her
plate
.
S
he reminded herself that she was hungry
,
and it appeared she would need her strength to cope with her
betrothed and his brothers.

Chapter Seven

 

As soon as breakfast was over, Damian suggested that they all walk to the gree
n to see the spot for the feast
and then continue to the bakery
.
Wedding celebrations were communal affairs, with each family contributing a special dish
.

Traditionally, the bride’s family provided the bridal cake and iced puddings to ensure the couple’s sweet married life, while the groom’s family provided the ale needed to ensure a joyous celebration for the guests
.

Denied time to plan and fuss, her mother was forced to devote her worry to
a long discussion
with the baker about the
puddings, which
Genevieve didn’t even pretend to follow
.
Damian never left her side and showed admirable patience, good-naturedly answering the questions Genevieve should have.

At midday, her mother gave her a harried kiss and turned to go home without asking any of them to come along, which made Genevieve suspect that Damian had already made some arrangement
.
They stopped off at the tavern and picked up packed baskets and a chilled stone pitcher
.
When she asked,
Damian
smiled and said that he was making up for ruining the picnic the day before
.

So she and the three Black brothers left the village and for the second time in two days, she made the walk to Titania’s Altar
.

When they reached the
meadow, Damian gave her a kiss
and said,
“I need to visit the
altar
, darling
.
Stay here with Donal.” 

Donal spread a blanket
so she could
sit against a tree
and then
gave her a smile that was p
ure roguish charm
.

N
ow that I’ve got you alone, is my new sister hungry?”

Genevieve was woefully ignorant of men, even more so than most girls her age, but she instinctively recognized Donal’s tone

he was being su
ggestive
.

She
rolled her eyes
and responded, “
As
it happens, I am
.
What do you have?” 

“Tongue,” he answered, licking his lips slightly
.

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