Page 165 of Immortal Rose

Propriety and common decency be damned, not even the pallor hanging over the city with the King’s ill health could dissuade the Patricians from partaking in the sparkling wines and revelry. I had no great love for the King of Albion, but the toffs’ willingness to look the other way disgusted me.

The rim of my teacup froze against my lips. “I suppose the invitation doesn’t extend to me?”

Hugh shook his head. “I can’t imagine willingly subjecting you to it.”

I made a small noise of irritation. There would be time to have this argument later. Right now, there was a more pressing fight to be had.

“Regardless, I’m coming with you to Ardent’s,” I told him.

Hugh pushed off the counter. “Absolutely not.”

“How will you find and identify the nectar and differentiate it from the other oils?” I challenged. “Have you forgotten the bottles aren’t labeled? Or were you just planning on taking all of them and hoping no one heard them clattering as you made your escape?”

He opened his mouth, then promptly shut it, only to open it again. That was exactly what he had been planning. For all his cleverness, he was still a man.

“I need to go,” I told him. “Can you understand that? I need to prove to myself he doesn’t have power over me anymore. The fact that he’s my father horrifies me more than you, believe me.”

“Nothing about you horrifies me,” Hugh said, then gestured to the oil bottles lining the tables. “Except maybe your use of expressed glands in perfume.”

Damn him, I wouldn’t laugh. And I wouldn’t soften, either.

“The King is hallucinating now, isn’t he?” I asked. “He is barely able to take food or water.”

Hugh’s jaw clenched. Bloody hell. For once I’d hoped to be wrong.

“After today, he’ll have two days left, if even that,” I said. “I understand your concerns, but we have no more time to waste.”

Hugh whirled on me. “No. If he’s there, and he takes you—”

Foxcourt cut himself off with a ragged breath, bracing his hands on the table and hanging his head.

“There will be an answer one day,” Hugh said. “There will be an answer for daring to come into my home, for threatening you. But it cannot be today.”

“I’m coming, Foxcourt,” I told him firmly. “I will sneak in after you, if I have to.”

His body tensed, the muscles strained beneath his jacket, pulling at the fabric. “Back to Foxcourt now, is it?”

I stared at him, understanding slow to arrive and embarrassment all too quick. When had I stopped referring to him by his title? I traced back over the last few days, but the change had come on so subtly, had felt so natural, it was impossible to tell for sure.

“How am I meant to protect you,” he began roughly, “if you remain so willing to walk into every lion’s den? It’s my fault he discovered you in the first place. I should have anticipated—”

“That my father would be a ruthless crime lord?” I said. “Like I should have anticipated there’d be two infamous assassins and notorious child gang leaders, one a noted forger, in this house?”

Hugh eased back from the counter, looking more tired than before, if that were possible. His gray eyes were imploring.

“I won’t breathe a word about them to anyone,” I promised him. I would protect them as fiercely as they had protected me.

“I know you won’t,” he said. “But they’ve all suffered in their lives. You have suffered in your life. I cannot tolerate the thought of anything happening to them, or to you.”

“You deserve that same care,” I told him. “You deserve more than just the strength to endure and protect everyone around you.”

He made a small, dismissive noise, crossing his arms over his chest.

“But you know I’m right in this,” I said. “I need to come with you tonight.”

Hugh let out a sigh, looking cross. “Yes, damn you, I know you’re right—but don’t ask me to like it.”

I hid my smile as I reached for the flacon of perfume I’d finished blending just before his arrival. I set it down on the worktable between us.