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Authors: Kelly Varesio

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BOOK: Insperatus
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Chapter 16

 

She heard a knock on her door. It was nearly seven o’clock at night, and she was just slipping her boots on when a hand knocked again. She quickly buckled her boots and went to the door, opening it, and secretly lost her breath at the sight of Traith Harker.
He was dressed casually, though a little more formal than before. She remembered with chills his muscular upper half, which had been clear when his shirt was wet. It was now concealed beneath a black vest over a loose white shirt, and he had added a cravat and black string tie. His brown hair was kicked forward almost into his eyes, but it didn’t disguise the fiery color of them. She was completely engrossed in every fiber of him. It felt like he was touching her everywhere at once without lifting a finger.
She was only in a long-sleeved, dark gray dress, but it was enough to look pretty, she hoped.
“
Good evening, again,” Traith said with a smile, and she became fully and gladly aware of his relaxed tone.
She laughed softly in reply. “You look nice and dry,” she said. “I feel like I’ve had wet dresses hanging in my room since I got here.”
“
The weather is usually much calmer than this,” he said.
He backed up, and she came out of her chamber, locking it and following behind him down the hall—for the first time, not toward the atrium. To her joy he stopped and waited for her to reach his side, his eyes holding a glint of pleasure in them. At the end of the hall he opened a door, one that was not marked with any number.
Inside, the room was darkly decorated, similar in design to her chamber, but she had come to the conclusion that each of the halls had a different theme to them, and her hall was romantic and dark. The wood paneling was dusky, and the walls were a deep red. There was a single large, medieval table in the side of the parlor, and next to it was a beautiful organ. There was a small shelf of books, almost fashioned as a small library. She decided that it was a quaint and likeable room. At the other side she saw Saria and Romanoff already seated within a circular pattern of furniture, including a divan, two armchairs, and three couches.
“
Glad you two have arrived,” Saria said with her frivolous giggle. “Carden just finished ordering dinner for us all! Isn’t that nice?”
“
Quite,” Rein said, walking past a few of the candelabras that lit the place as brightly as she had seen yet.
She then took a seat across from Saria and Romanoff. Traith sat at the armchair in the corner, relaxing his muscled shoulders that protruded from underneath the white fabric he wore.
“
The servant said he might be late with the dinner, though,” Romanoff said haughtily. “
That’s
why I initially protested against the captain having permitted them on board in the first place! They cause such disorder.”
Traith gave a humorous grin, his lapel practically touching his tough jaw in his slouch. “You Frenchmen—always so judgmental.”
Saria laughed over Romanoff’s shocked snort. “The French are far more valuable than you think, Harker,” he said.
“
Not really,” Traith retorted. “Always starting wars and such, especially with England. I
figured
you needed history refreshment.”
It was then that Rein noticed the humor in Traith’s speech. This was his way of joking.
“
Why are we discussing the French? In any case,
we
don’t start those wars,” Romanoff said, sitting straighter and raising his voice.
“
Carden,” Traith returned with a single, quiet expression of amusement, “if your bloody country stopped interfering with everyone’s lives, over half the war in Europe would cease, and you would save yourselves the embarrassment of getting beat all the time.”
At that point, Saria was laughing so hard that Rein thought she would topple over. Her face was completely red. “You
two
!” was all she could manage to say.
Rein found herself laughing as well, but she was more interested in taking in each facial expression and remark between the two men, especially Traith’s.
“
If I’m not mistaken, the French won nearly every war fought with England!” Romanoff spurted.
“
Well then, I believe you are mistaken,” Traith answered amusingly. “One war out of many, and it was by accident anyway. But perhaps you think that way because we kept our loyalty and never cheated in order to randomly throw a ruler off of his throne for no particular reason.”
Romanoff laughed proudly. “It isn’t my fault you aren’t French or that you are not able to have the French assertiveness,” he said.
“
Carden, why would I want to be? I hate Frenchmen. Their arrogance and terrible breath exceed all limits of the imagination.”
She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Saria was curled over top of Romanoff in tears and even he was nearly turning red with laughter. Traith seemed to be laughing more than she had ever seen him, though he was still subdued. It was like a hardly audible chuckle when he laughed, but he was always smiling with his head cocked. She was baffled at how comical Traith was and how entertaining he could be without trying. He was content and enjoying himself, too, which made her feel content. But how the two men were friends with such differences was beyond her imagination. It was then that she noticed their friendship was as deep as her and Saria’s, and just as perplexing.
“
Here we go!” Romanoff burst with another snort of a laugh. “You’re stooping that low, are you?”
Traith shook his head, his face balanced on his fist with a smile.
“
Traith, do you know how to say your Rs? I can never quite hear them!”
Saria was having a fit of laughter, and her red face was turning blue. Rein felt herself laughing harder than before, too. Traith’s British accent was actually very similar to her own. She saw Traith begin to suck in his laughter and shake with it.
“
Say ‘cart’ or ‘heart,’ Traith!” Romanoff taunted on. “Go on, say them!
Ca’ht
?
Hea’ht
? Did you hear? Or,
heah
? Do your Rs just disappear, or can’t you pronounce that letter at all?” Romanoff was laughing so heartily that the room nearly shook.
Traith was laughing, as well. “You’re the idiot sticking your tongue up like a hound to
pro
nounce anything English, so careful
what
—”
“
H’wot
?
H’wot
? I can barely say that!”
Traith had begun to answer, but he had to stop his speech to laugh, and Rein was fascinated to hear it.
“
You aren’t
supposed
to be able to say it,” Traith said after he managed to subdue his laughter. “Mainly because you aren’t supposed to even speak English! In fact, why don’t you bite your flailing tongue, and pray quit speaking my language?”
“
Ah!
Semble-t-il un peu mieux
?”
Traith made a fist and held it partly up. He let it fall limply between his knees and shook his head. “Bloody frog,” he whispered with a wicked smile.
He had spoken it too quietly for Saria to hear, as she was still laughing strenuously. But Rein couldn’t help but snicker when she heard him say that; he seemed to be in possession of a terrible tongue, and had only a slight guilt at speaking in any manner he pleased in front of her and her friend.
“
Ha!
Touché
, Traith! What name have they for the British? Excuse me; I dare not say it, as you are the only person here
shaming
the British title. These two fine women make me begin to adore it.”
Just then, a knock on the door stopped the laughing quarrel. Traith sunk lower in the armchair and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and first two fingers, shaking his head and laughing downward. Rein knew he hid his face to laugh further. She knew that Saria was the only one he was hiding his peculiar smile from.

 

Chapter 17

 

Romanoff answered the door. The servant who came in was a grown man this time, and when he entered Rein saw that he had a large, reflective silver tray in his long hands. Two other servants followed him, carrying other various trays and pitchers.
The way Romanoff stared at the servants proved Traith’s charge of arrogance. His large, brown eyes were cut in half and his smile was just short of being a snarl, devoid of any appreciation whatsoever; his aristocratic nature was obvious. The servants quickly exited the room when they had laid out the food and drinks on the enormous oaken table.
She heard Traith chuckling as she watched the Frenchman, and she quickly turned to see his face. He was covering his face, but his shoulders were shaking in a teasing amusement.
“
He’s so stupid,” Traith mouthed to her, pointing to Romanoff, for only her to hear in his laughter.
Rein’s eyebrows rose and she bit her bottom lip to hold back an interrupting laugh. She began to feel him becoming a whole person; he had a dry, sarcastic, rough manner about him, but a gallant elegance and formality ate away half of his rawness, leaving two opposite sides of him.
She liked that. She liked figuring him out.
Rein stood. Traith, then, rose casually from his slouch and cleared his throat, his hand out signaling her to go ahead of him. He then waited for Saria, who was in a tizzy trying to fix herself without a mirror. By his silent expression, Rein noticed that he seemed slightly annoyed at Saria’s dilly-dallying.
She took a seat at the table, her back to the close wall. Romanoff lifted the two ornate, metallic tray lids to reveal biscuits and butter and meats and even potatoes. Then there was the wine—two bottles of red. After he had made ready the food, he tried to take a seat at the piano, but Traith motioned for him.
“
Ah, these men!” Saria burst out saying, her voice raised as it commonly was. “Are you not having a most pleasing time, Rein? I am!”
Rein nodded and smiled with a sort of giggle, but couldn’t help her eyes from straying over to where the two men stood, mumbling lowly to each other. They seemed to be arguing—as usual.
Saria stopped and breathed a long, high-pitched sigh. She turned around in her chair across from Rein and yelled, “Gentlemen! The conversation should begin over dinner, should it not?”
Both men paused. Traith’s arm was out as if laying down a law, and Romanoff’s were both at his sides. The two men froze a moment until Romanoff cleared his throat and walked over to the table with a large smile. Traith turned his head in frustration but then scrupulously walked over and took a seat at the end of the table. He tried to seem unaffected by whatever it was they had been talking about, but he wasn’t nearly as good as Romanoff was about it.
Then Saria began speaking without end. Rein tuned her out and thought she heard Romanoff say something about eating, but it seemed as though Traith didn’t want to. Romanoff returned to the piano.
“
You play?” Saria asked enthusiastically, stopping her personal imitation of a filibuster.
Traith seemed to cringe at the shrill in her voice, and Rein thought it amusing that her flirtatious attitude made him uncomfortable. She always did feel that if Saria wasn’t a Christian woman, she could be a harlot. It had the opposite effect on Romanoff.
“
Ah, my love, I do! I will eat after a few songs. Enjoy!”
My love
? What had he just called Saria?
Romanoff began a simple but formal tune. It was beautiful. His fingers hit each key so quickly it sounded like a harp. Saria, during or after the song, took a little of each thing to place on her plate. Rein was hungry, but she tried to be a bit more graceful than Saria.
Traith sat still, not touching the food.
“
Do you not sing at all, Mr. Harker?” Saria asked. “Or play?”
“
I try not to.”
“
He has the potential to do very well at both, I am sure!” Carden boomed over his keen piano playing.
Rein felt herself light up a little when Traith chuckled once more. “I wouldn’t say any such thing, Carden.”
“
Well are you not hungry, then, Mr. Harker?” Saria asked. “Why, after such a long day, I should very much like for you to eat with us!”
His face was so sober he nearly looked ill. His fiery, powerful eyes, set like a perfect work of art, shifted to Romanoff, who played unwaveringly. But his eyes met Traith’s in return and he nodded his head forward as if indicating for Traith to eat.
Traith took up the right pitcher, filling a goblet. Then Romanoff became quicker and lighter with the piano beat, going up and down the scale as if to make fun of him—or to show off his playing.
Traith shook his head and smiled at the way the man seemed to play Traith’s movements. “I’m not very hungry this evening,” Traith said over Romanoff’s music. “Swallowed enough of that saltwater to fill me for a week.”
“
Oh please, do have something!” Saria begged. “Rein, here, is usually uncomfortable eating in front of a gentleman who isn’t doing the same.”
Rein felt herself flush and her eyes widen in response to Saria. She was right, though; that was one of her little mannerisms that Saria often did point out.
BOOK: Insperatus
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