“How long has this been going on?”
“Since we found her.”
Gabriel stared at him. “And you’re telling us just now?”
“I did not think it was important before,” Tristan said impatiently. “We need to cure her and get her feelings out of me. Immediately.”
Nathaniel twitched his lips. “Does Scarlet experience your emotions as well?”
“No.” Tristan rubbed the back of his neck and muttered, “Thank God.”
Well, this was just awkward.
Nathaniel slowly nodded. “I will start making arrangements immediately.”
CHAPTER 11
Ten weeks later
Scarlet was tied into a God-awful corset that cinched beneath a God-awful dress that billowed out around her in far too many layers of God-awful skirts.
Gabriel had taken her to the tailor that morning.
She still had not forgiven him.
“Funny. You are dressed so pretty, but you look so furious.” Nathaniel smiled at her as she entered his house, Gabriel coming up behind her.
Everyone had been staying at Nathaniel’s house for the past month, planning the details of their trip overseas.
Scarlet frowned at her corset. “You try squeezing your bones into one of these contraptions and keeping a pleasant face.”
“No, thank you,” Nathaniel said. “I feel I’m already a hazard in my trousers and top hats. I do not need to add lace and ruffles to the madness.”
Gabriel shut the front door behind them and sighed at Nathaniel. “Fair warning, friend. Do not take this spitfire of a woman to a tailor. She will do nothing but complain and curse.”
“Then perhaps you should not try to dress her up as if she were a doll,” Tristan suggested from the back hallway.
Gabriel said, “We are heading overseas to a new land. I thought it would be prudent that Scarlet had something to wear aside from servant dresses and men’s clothing.” He shot her a pointed look.
Scarlet shrugged. “I enjoy my servant dresses. They are thin and practical and they do not threaten my life. And I find men’s shirts far more comfortable than anything I own.”
She’d developed a habit of stealing Tristan’s shirts from the clothesline and spending her days dressed as him. It was comfortable and she enjoyed smelling him on her skin. She stole a glance at Tristan, thinking about how she’d rather be in his arms than in his clothes, and found him flicking his eyes over her.
Heat rose between them, invisible and dangerous, and Tristan took a precautionary step away from her.
Ever a gentlemen, that one.
Scarlet managed not to curl her lip at his behavior. To say things had gotten worse between the two of them was an understatement. They had stopped spending time together in the forest, and the little time they spent together outside the forest was always tense. They drifted further apart from one another. Physically. Emotionally.
A few days of silence led to a few weeks of avoidance, and now here they were. In the same room, not speaking to one another.
Gabriel and Nathaniel did not seem to mind the contention between Scarlet and Tristan—probably because it was insurance that she would not be exploding into death anytime soon—but Scarlet’s heart could barely cope.
She missed Tristan. She wanted him. And she hated the curse that prevented her from satisfying either. But not speaking to him, not hearing his voice flutter over her skin and bring her soul to life, was almost easier than the constant fighting and near-touching.
Almost.
“We leave in two weeks. Are there any other preparations we must make?” Tristan changed the subject to business, per usual.
Lately, he was focused and determined. She missed his lighthearted demeanor. And his smile.
He glanced at her and she quickly looked away, feeling his eyes on the back of her bare neck where her hair was pulled up. Warmth spread across her shoulders and down her chest under his perusal and Scarlet stifled the shiver that wanted to sprint through her core. He may as well slip his hands into her dress
“Since we found her.”
Gabriel stared at him. “And you’re telling us just now?”
“I did not think it was important before,” Tristan said impatiently. “We need to cure her and get her feelings out of me. Immediately.”
Nathaniel twitched his lips. “Does Scarlet experience your emotions as well?”
“No.” Tristan rubbed the back of his neck and muttered, “Thank God.”
Well, this was just awkward.
Nathaniel slowly nodded. “I will start making arrangements immediately.”
CHAPTER 11
Ten weeks later
Scarlet was tied into a God-awful corset that cinched beneath a God-awful dress that billowed out around her in far too many layers of God-awful skirts.
Gabriel had taken her to the tailor that morning.
She still had not forgiven him.
“Funny. You are dressed so pretty, but you look so furious.” Nathaniel smiled at her as she entered his house, Gabriel coming up behind her.
Everyone had been staying at Nathaniel’s house for the past month, planning the details of their trip overseas.
Scarlet frowned at her corset. “You try squeezing your bones into one of these contraptions and keeping a pleasant face.”
“No, thank you,” Nathaniel said. “I feel I’m already a hazard in my trousers and top hats. I do not need to add lace and ruffles to the madness.”
Gabriel shut the front door behind them and sighed at Nathaniel. “Fair warning, friend. Do not take this spitfire of a woman to a tailor. She will do nothing but complain and curse.”
“Then perhaps you should not try to dress her up as if she were a doll,” Tristan suggested from the back hallway.
Gabriel said, “We are heading overseas to a new land. I thought it would be prudent that Scarlet had something to wear aside from servant dresses and men’s clothing.” He shot her a pointed look.
Scarlet shrugged. “I enjoy my servant dresses. They are thin and practical and they do not threaten my life. And I find men’s shirts far more comfortable than anything I own.”
She’d developed a habit of stealing Tristan’s shirts from the clothesline and spending her days dressed as him. It was comfortable and she enjoyed smelling him on her skin. She stole a glance at Tristan, thinking about how she’d rather be in his arms than in his clothes, and found him flicking his eyes over her.
Heat rose between them, invisible and dangerous, and Tristan took a precautionary step away from her.
Ever a gentlemen, that one.
Scarlet managed not to curl her lip at his behavior. To say things had gotten worse between the two of them was an understatement. They had stopped spending time together in the forest, and the little time they spent together outside the forest was always tense. They drifted further apart from one another. Physically. Emotionally.
A few days of silence led to a few weeks of avoidance, and now here they were. In the same room, not speaking to one another.
Gabriel and Nathaniel did not seem to mind the contention between Scarlet and Tristan—probably because it was insurance that she would not be exploding into death anytime soon—but Scarlet’s heart could barely cope.
She missed Tristan. She wanted him. And she hated the curse that prevented her from satisfying either. But not speaking to him, not hearing his voice flutter over her skin and bring her soul to life, was almost easier than the constant fighting and near-touching.
Almost.
“We leave in two weeks. Are there any other preparations we must make?” Tristan changed the subject to business, per usual.
Lately, he was focused and determined. She missed his lighthearted demeanor. And his smile.
He glanced at her and she quickly looked away, feeling his eyes on the back of her bare neck where her hair was pulled up. Warmth spread across her shoulders and down her chest under his perusal and Scarlet stifled the shiver that wanted to sprint through her core. He may as well slip his hands into her dress
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