Her heart nearly lodged in her throat.
The mint green and white lace complemented her pale complexion and brought out the shades of red in her hair. As her fingers traced the almost imperceptible pattern of waves across the bodice, Rune tried to remind herself how much she loathed the boy who’d made it.
But it was the most beautiful dress she’d ever seen, never mind worn, and Rune couldn’t stop the startling warmth rippling through her. She wished she’d asked Lizbeth to stay, to tie the laces so it would fit properly.
The tulle of her dress swished around her legs as she waded back to her desk. Sinking into the chair, she grabbed a pen and paper, then jotted down a response.
Gideon Sharpe
113 Prudence St, Old Town
Yes, Gideon. I’m asking you to be my date.
Rune
P.S. My plan is to win you over so you’ll keep making me dresses forever.
P.P.S. Let me know when it’s working.
She found it hard to concentrate after that and was almost relieved when Lizbeth interrupted again. Rune had moved from writing her speech at her desk to reciting it as she paced the room.
“Miss Rune …” Lizbeth glanced over her shoulder and stepped into the casting room. “There’s a visitor here to see you. He’s in the foyer.”
Rune, who wasn’t expecting any callers, looked up from the page she was reading. “Who is it?”
Lizbeth lowered her voice. “That Blood Guard captain.”
Gideon? Rune’s eyes widened. What could he want?
“Tell him …” She was still wearing the dress he’d made her, the laces down the back undone. “Tell him I’ll be right down. And maybe offer some refreshments?”
Lizbeth nodded, then disappeared.
Darn. She’d purchased a suit jacket for Gideon in town yesterday—to enchant with Truth Teller, and to atone for the one she’d ruined with wine. Not that she could ever truly atone for ruining a Sharpe Duet jacket. Even now, the memory stabbed her with guilt. To fit him, though, the seamstress needed to make a few adjustments, so Rune didn’t yet have the jacket in her hands, and therefore couldn’t use it to get information.
It’s fine, she told herself, shrugging off the dress. Just make yourself presentable and go down there.
Rune reached for the clothes she’d cast off earlier, only to find them wrinkled from lying in a heap.
Needing something else to wear, Rune ran to her wardrobe and pulled on the first thing she found: a simple cotton sundress that fell to her knees. She hurried barefoot down the stairs and immediately slowed upon seeing the young man in her foyer.
Gideon faced away from her, clasping his hands behind his back as he eyed his surroundings. He wore plain brown trousers and had rolled his shirtsleeves to his elbows, showing off his forearms.
Rune’s heart stumbled at the sight of him. This was the same boy who had her pinned beneath him two nights ago. The same boy she’d stabbed in the leg with a knife.
“Gideon,” she said, recovering. “What a pleasant surprise.”
He spun to face her, and Rune quailed a little beneath his penetrating gaze. How much did he remember from the mine? It had been so dark down there. Even when he lit the flare, he hadn’t removed her hood in time to see her. But could he still know, somehow, that it was her?
Her legs felt like jelly. Rune gripped the railing a little too hard and kept descending the stairs. “What brings you to Wintersea?”
“I came to ask if you’d like to take a walk with me.”
“A … walk?”
“You said there’s a beach near here.” He seemed uncertain, suddenly, and unclasped his hands. “If you’re busy—”
“Oh! Yes. I mean, no, not busy. Yes, there is a beach.” She reached the bottom of the steps, weirdly out of breath. “A walk would be lovely.”
“Great,” he said.
Why are you really here? she wondered.
She tried a smile, then glanced toward Lizbeth, who’d entered the foyer with a knit shawl in her hands. Taking it, Rune flung it over her shoulders.
Rune and Gideon stood awkwardly for a moment before she realized he didn’t know the way to a beach he’d never been to.
“Right.” Her cheeks reddened. “Follow me.”
She led him through the house, and only once they’d entered the gardens did she wonder if she should have strapped on her knife.
TWENTY-NINE
GIDEON
GIDEON SLOWED HIS STRIDE to match Rune’s as she led him through the labyrinthine hedges. She carried a lantern in one hand as they walked through her gardens, while her other hand clasped her shawl closed at her throat.