Heart of the Fae by Emma Hamm

Author:Emma Hamm [Hamm, Emma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-11-25T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

THE STORM

Sorcha paced in front of the kitchen door. She’d spent the entirety of two days mulling over Macha’s words, replaying what she might say and how he might react. The problem was she didn’t know. Stone was a rather unpredictable person. First he was horrible, then he was kind, then he wouldn’t even look at her.

The last thing she needed was to go back to the “toss her out of the castle” route they’d started their relationship with. He had shown an ability to be a gentleman. Now she needed to use that to her advantage.

Her first thought was to dress up. She’d put the green velvet dress back on and twirled around in front of Boggart asking how she looked. Brown patches were showing up all over Boggart’s body, and she stroked one on her forearm before clapping.

But that hadn’t been right. Sorcha wasn’t trying to impress him with her beauty. She needed him to take her seriously. The blood beetle plague was a terrible affliction, and he needed to understand how dire the circumstances were.

She switched to the outfit she usually conducted her midwifery in. Stains decorated the front of the white apron and rips frayed the ends. She thought it rather suited the conversation.

Boggart hated it.

The little faerie then found the perfect dress or at least that’s what her chirps sounded like. It had been Sorcha’s mother’s. Pale yellow, with tiny hand-embroidered white daisies along the hem, it snugged tight to her waist while sweeping the ground. Sorcha rarely wore the dress for fear she might harm the delicate fabric.

Still, she tried it on. Worn cotton swayed against her thighs, delicate lace brushing the tops of her feet. The square neckline allowed the wind to brush over her skin, the tight sleeves complimented her strong arms.

Sorcha didn’t second guess her choice until she stood outside the kitchens. Now, she paced back and forth wondering what her plan was. Did she think he would say yes just because she wore a yellow dress?

Of course he wouldn’t. He was a man who called himself master. A peasant girl in a pretty dress wouldn’t change his mind that easily.

A grumbling voice lifted. “Are you going in or not, girl?”

“I’m thinking.”

“What could you have to think about that would make you trample my rutabagas?”

“Hush, Cian.”

The click of his jaw snapping together made her flinch. She should know better than to issue an order while using a Fae name.

Sorcha winced, “I’m sorry Cian. I rescind that order.”

His mouth flew open so fast she thought he might unhinge his jaw. “How dare you! This is precisely why humans shouldn’t have our names!”

“I agree,” she interrupted, stopping him mid rant. “I never should have used it, that was careless of me.”

Cian grumbled but turned back to hoeing the patch of lettuce which she swore had popped up overnight. The man was magic with the garden. Sorcha wished he lived near her sisters, maybe they wouldn’t have given so much money to the marketplace.

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