“Did you see the stables?” she asked, desperate to distract him, but realizing even that would bring them back round to things she didn’t want to discuss. “They weren’t completely ruined, were they?”
“Just a bit scorched,” he said, “and you’re hedging.”
“Care for a biscuit?”
“Thank you, but nay, not yet.”
She settled for a look of pleading.
He smiled briefly. “Very well, I’ll leave you alone about it for the time being. Let’s discuss something less personal, say the condition of His Majesty’s beard. I think his having the same singed might be what turned the tide for me.”
“I honestly didn’t mean to,” she said. “He wasn’t being reasonable.”
“He generally isn’t,” Acair agreed, “but you definitely made an impression on him. You saved me, which I appreciate greatly. Also compelling was a bribe made by an unexpected ally.”
“Your grandmother?” she asked in surprise.
“Hearn of Angesand, rather, if you can believe it,” he said. “There is an extremely valuable pony in the king’s stables that has greatly improved the prospects of yours truly seeing spring. With any luck, we’ll be on our way before Uachdaran decides he’d rather walk than ride.”
She ignored the chills washing over her. Hot, cold, she hardly had any idea any longer what was amiss with her normally quite reliable form.
“Are you sure we shouldn’t go today?” she asked.
“I’ll admit I hesitate not to leave whilst the king is in such an accommodating mood, but I think another day of rest would serve us both well. I have a thing or two to investigate, if the opportunity arises.”
She imagined he would create an opportunity where none existed, which should have worried everyone in the vicinity.
“You should rest as well,” she said, “not make trouble.”
“But I’m a first-rate troublemaker,” he said smoothly. “Which you already knew.”
“Acair,” she said, realizing that she was coming close to begging. “Please don’t snoop.”
“I won’t.”
“You will.”
He held up his hands in surrender. “I have no choice. There are doilies to rescue.”
“Is that all?”
He paused, then looked at her seriously. “I believe there might be books of ours that need to be recovered as well, unless you have thoughts on their location.”
She pointed over her shoulder. “Under the sofa cushion.”
He closed his eyes briefly, then smiled at her. “We wouldn’t want those getting lost out amongst the great unwashed masses—or my brothers, take your pick. There are things my grandmother jotted down that likely should have remained unwritten.”
She suppressed a shudder at the thought. She hadn’t had the chance to make a proper study of the book in question while they’d been in the middle of being tossed from his grandmother’s solar, but she’d had an eyeful of Acair’s expression after he’d glanced at what had been written in it. It was likely better to keep it tucked out of sight.
“Clever you for managing to hide it there.”
“I stole the idea from you,” she said, then she glanced over her shoulder at the physick lying there, still dead to the world. “Why is he here, do you think?”
“The king was wringing his hands over the possibility of my doing something untoward, so it seems he’s here to guard you.”
She smiled in spite of herself. “I don’t think you have the energy to do anything untoward.”
“Sadly I believe the only unpleasant thing I might manage at present is to shove him onto the floor and take his place on something not stonelike.” He shrugged. “I generally prefer to put off mischief-making until after I’ve had a decent night’s sleep and a hearty breakfast, so perhaps Uachdaran is safe for the day. You should also know that I never ravish maidens fair when they are indisposed.” He leaned his head back against his chair and closed his eyes. “No amount of insisting will change my mind, darling, so don’t even try.”
She rolled her eyes, though she had the feeling more than one maiden fair had begged for his attentions. She pushed her pillow up against the headboard of the bed and made herself comfortable so she could keep an eye on him, nothing more. If it gave her a chance to watch him more closely than usual, so be it.
The inescapable truth was, that man there had been designed to be best admired by the light of a fire. It cast his appallingly perfect form into just the right amount of shadow, flickered rather lovingly along his chiseled cheekbones and jaw, and danced with daring abandon over his dark, rakishly windblown hair. Of course, sunlight did a better job of revealing his eyes that weren’t quite blue, nor precisely green, but something altogether more spectacular.
She wondered just how indisposed a woman might have to be not to want his attentions.
“I could be persuaded to abandon my principles in a pinch,” he remarked, opening his eyes and looking at her. “If you insist.”
She imagined he could be persuaded to do quite a few things in a pinch, including leaving women swooning and everyone else running for cover.
“Good of you,” she said, “but I wouldn’t want to put you out.”
“Definitely not in my current condition, but hold the thought for later.”
She thought she just might.
“Still don’t want to talk about magic?”
She shook her head. “Tell me instead what you did to make the king so angry.”
“Besides being blamed for his daughter ruthlessly using me to escape his watchful eye and run off with one of my half-brother’s cousins, a rather handsome but vapid elf from Tòrr Dòrainn?”
“Aye, that,” she said, feeling entirely unsympathetic. “I have the feeling you didn’t stop there.”
“I’m flattered you have such confidence in my abilities,” he said. He stretched his legs out and rubbed his knees as if they pained him. “To be honest, I might have slipped over the walls and helped myself to the odd, unattended spell whilst His Majesty was napping.” He paused. “I may have done that more than once.”
“Typical.”
“Isn’t it?” he asked. “I believe I’ve become predictable.”
“I believe you’re fortunate to be alive,” she said seriously. “What else?”
He clasped his hands together and looked at them for a moment or two before he looked at her.