His Fire Maiden

Chapter 27

"My lord?"

Reginald started with a sharp breath. He hadn't heard Gilroy enter the library. The man stood slightly away from the desk, the silver mail tray in his hand.

"Mail, is it?" he asked, surprised at how weary his voice sounded as he took the letters.

The butler hesitated. His eyes were rheumy nowadays. Reginald looked away from them. He did not think he could watch Gilroy fade as well.

"Is there something you wanted, Gilroy?"

Gilroy's thin mouth compressed. Yes, there was something he wanted very badly to say. That was obvious. Only years of training prevented the man from speaking plainly. Gilroy drew himself up full.

"Lady Reginald has declined dinner," he said without a hint of reproach. Which only made Reginald's transgression more clear. "Shall I set up for one? Or perhaps bring a tray in here?"

The leaden weight in Reginald's stomach intensified. Vivi no longer wanted to eat with him. He ached. In every muscle, in his heart, it hurt to breathe now. Yet she still inflamed him. Her honeyed scent, the way she lifted that one amber brow when he said something she did not agree with, made him want.

Reginald scrubbed a hand over his jaw. Gilroy was still waiting for a reply.

"I find myself not entirely hungry either. Let the staff have it."

"Very well, my lord."

Reginald did not look up from his desk as Gilroy left but slowly thumbed through his mail, if only for something to keep his hands occupied. A thin missive stopped him. Although it had been years, he knew that handwriting quite well.

His fingers were clumsy, tearing open the envelope in haste. Something inside him already knew what the note would say.

It can be done.

–L

His eyes went to the lunar calendar lying on the desk. Two days left until the new moon met the winter solstice. This night and one day, really. All that he had left to spend with Vivienne. He raised his head, listening intently. Vivi. He could just hear the soft steady sound of her breathing, the faint rustle of her dress when she moved. Reginald rose from his desk. It was cowardly and selfish, but he needed her like he needed air.

She was in the salon, sitting unseeing before the backgammon board. A pang grasped Reginald's heart at the sight. Candlelight highlighted the creamy curves of her cheeks, setting her rosy hair aglow. For one precious moment, he could not breathe. His vision blurred, and he blinked hard.

"Vivi."

She turned, stiffening at his unexpected appearance. "Yes, Reginald?"

He swallowed past the thickness in his throat and nodded toward the board. "Play a game with me?"

He was letting her beat him, Vivienne was sure. The man barely paid mind to the game but sat in silence, gray eyes glittering from behind the black silk mask, watching her every move.

She looked up from the game board to find him watching still.

"You're staring," she murmured and moved her piece along the board.

"Yes. You look beautiful."

Heat rose in her cheeks. She could only be thankful for the mellowing glow of candlelight to hide it. "You told me you cared not for how I looked."