Inamorata

Chapter Sixteen - The Fierce Songbird

Chapter 16. Author's note - sorry for the delay, I've been massively busy. Just a little bit of a question for any readers: what song do you think would go along with this story? I always like to be inspired by music, and so I'd love to hear it if you know of any appropriate songs....

When David arrived home, he immediately shooed Robin away from Nightingale.

"Away from her, Robin, before you fall too much in love with her," he instructed.

"As if I'm not already so far gone in my affection that her presence would make it worse," sighed Robin dramatically.

Nightingale laughed as David's eyes flashed with annoyance.

"Well, I should go," said Robin, and he stood in one smooth motion. Nightingale immediately followed him, attaching herself around his neck, just to spite David, whose eyes narrowed the moment Nightingale so much as touched Robin's elbow.

Also, she was terrified of Robin leaving. She'd been reduced to an emotional, needy wreck in the past few days, so different from the cold, bitter Inamorata she'd been before.

"Don't," she pleaded. "Stay for a little longer."

"I'm afraid I have to go, lovely Nightingale," sighed Robin. "If I stay any longer, I'm afraid David will tear my head off in jealousy."

David shot him a sarcastic, acid smile.

"But will I ever see you again?" asked Nightingale, anxiousness making her stomach twist.

"Of course, darling," he said, and brushed his hand across her cheek. "When you're freed, I'll see you again. Or if David signs you out for another weekend."

"But what if I'm never freed?" whispered Nightingale.

Robin smiled. Leaning close to her, he murmured in her ear:

"I'm very rich, Nightingale. If things fall through and you can't be freed legally, I'm sure I can pay a few  willing criminals to spirit you away from the bordello," he said, his warm breath tickling her neck the way Bobby's did when he whispered to her. But Robin's actions were sweet and Bobby's awful.

"I could never leave my sisters," confessed Nightingale, her eyes pricking with tears. "Not even to be free. It wouldn't be just to fly away like that while they suffered."

"And I could never leave you to suffer in the bordello, not when I could save you," replied Robin, and for the first time, Nightingale saw passion, not just gentle sweetness, flare in his eyes. Perhaps she'd gotten closer to seducing him than she'd initially thought.

Now Nightingale began to cry in earnest, a few tears rolling down her cheeks.

"What are you two whispering about?" snapped David, approaching them.

When Nightingale turned to him, she saw his expression morph from one of cool detachment to gentility. It was only momentary, but it was very sweet.

"Nothing," said Robin airily.

"Evidently it's something, if you've made the stoic Nightingale cry," retorted David, anger evident in his voice. Before Nightingale's astounded eyes, he reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and drew out a handkerchief. He proceeded to lift her face to his, one hand under chin, and tenderly sponge a tear from Nightingale's cheek. Their eyes met and then checking himself, he simply handed her the handkerchief, all his coldness back in his face but not his eyes. They remained confusingly warm, aflame and glowing with some emotion Nightingale did not understand.

When Nightingale turned back to Robin, she caught him eyeing them suspiciously. He muttered something that sounded like:

"I see that you weren't lying when you told me that she is-"