I sincerely hope it isn’t another rabbit’s foot. “I can’t wait.”
As if he just noticed Eason’s presence, Philip’s gaze flicks to the guard and then back to me. “Who is this man you’re with?”
That is none of your business. “This is my friend, Eason.”
“Does your friend mind if I steal you away for a dance?” he asks, already reaching for my hand.
“He may not, but I do.” Senan’s deep voice leaves heat burning up my throat.
What is he doing? Philip has been to the castle with his father and might recognize him. Of all the times for Senan to get jealous…
Wynn peers from behind Senan’s shoulder, her eyes wide inside her cat mask.
Lord Windell stands, the top of his head coming to Senan’s chin. “Would you look who it is. Searching for a bit of sport yourself, sire?”
They know each other. Isn’t that lovely? Perhaps Senan will receive an invitation to our bloody wedding.
Senan shoves past Lord Windell and sinks onto the bench beside me. “There is no sport to be found here. I suggest you make yourself scarce.” He sounds so commanding when he uses his “princely” voice. Although he is acting like a haughty prick, part of me secretly loves it.
Lord Windell ignores Senan’s glower as he takes my hand and presses his thin, wet lips to my knuckles. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, Allette.”
Dread climbs my throat, and I have a sinking feeling that Senan has made this whole situation worse.
Wynn squeezes between Eason and me to give my knee a pat. “You all right?”
“I’m wonderful.” But I’m not. I’m really not. Senan may have saved me from Lord Windell tonight, but tomorrow, the prince will be long gone, and I’ll have to deal with the man myself. And if the hungry look he keeps throwing over his shoulder as he stalks toward the bonfire is any indication, he may want to stake his claim sooner rather than later.
Senan turns away before I can gauge his reaction to Philip, waving to a man toting a crate of wool blankets. He pays for two, handing one to Wynn before draping the second over our legs.
Wynn unfolds the blanket with a happy little hum. “Normally, I don’t accept gifts from gentlemen, but since you’ve broken all my toes, I think it’s the least you can do.”
“That it is,” Senan agrees, his tone light and jovial but his smile brittle. Beneath the cover, his hand curls around mine.
“You forgot to get one for Eason,” I remind him.
Behind his black mask, Senan’s eyes narrow. “Who?”
“Eason. Your guard.”
“I don’t mind sharing with him.” Wynn throws a corner of her blanket across Eason’s lap before he can protest. Although the guard doesn’t look pleased, he doesn’t refuse either.
Senan’s long, thick fingers squeeze mine as he watches me through his mask. When his gaze drops to my lips, my heart kicks up speed. He cannot kiss me in front of all these people, I know that. But stars, do I want him to.
“Was he the bunny killer?” Senan whispers, his expression as serious as I’ve ever seen it.
As much as I want to deny it, I nod.
The prince’s nostrils flare, and his jaw pulses. “I’m going to kill him.”
“Simon…”
He blows out a harsh breath; his head falls as he stretches out his legs and lets out a mirthless chuckle.
Eason’s words drift through my mind.You do know he is engaged…
How silly the guard must think I am. How naïve.
As I peer up at Senan, I wonder if we’re only making this harder on ourselves. Every moment we spend together will make saying goodbye that much more difficult. Why are we holding on when it’s only a matter of time before the world forces us to let go?