First at Last (Updated Version)

Chapter Twelve

I froze, sucking in a breath sharply.

"At ease," Gabriel said as he walked toward me, recognition lighting his eyes. "Lady Lovet," he said, sounding a little surprised as he walked toward me. "I would ask what brought you to the palace, but I'm quite sure I already know."

I smiled sheepishly at him. "Thank you for keeping your men from cutting my head off."

He laughed, a sound I had not heard from him before. He looked much younger when he laughed, truly like the twenty-two year old he was, and much more attractive, as well. For the past several week, he had escorted William and me to my house nearly every night, and in that time, I had seen him smile very little and I did not even realize he could laugh. "They would not have slice your head off—these swords are not great for that. They merely would have run you through, if anything."

I swallowed a little nervously. "Well, erm, thank you, then, for not letting your men run me through."

"It was my pleasure, My Lady. I shall take you to see His Highness, then."

I thanked him and followed him up the path to the palace doors. He led me down the long corridor, up the stairs, down another long corridor, before we wound up in front of William's bedroom doors. I was pleased to find that the route to his room looked familiar now, and I probably could have found it myself if I'd had to.

I thanked him again for his escorting me to William's room , and he bowed to me before he hurried back down the hall the way we'd come.

There were two guards standing on either side of William's bedroom doors, as usual, and they stepped out of my way as I knocked on the door.

I heard movement from inside the room, and then a moment later, the door opened and William stood in the doorway, looking surprised. He really had not been expecting me, for he was wearing only black trousers and a white dress shirt that was unbuttoned completely—suggesting he most likely had thrown it on hurriedly—which displayed the muscular plains of his chest and stomach.

My face heated up and I turned my eyes down to the floor, finding that he was barefoot. Forgetting that he was partially naked, I found his being barefoot was somehow much more intimate. I looked up at him and opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. I was utterly speechless and more embarrassed than I had ever been in my life.

His cheeks reddened slightly and he stared at me, looking just as shocked as I felt. "Erika," he said slowly. "Good evening."

"I am terribly sorry I showed up unannounced. I did not realize you would be sleeping . . ." I swallowed hard, my eyes finding their way to his taut stomach.

"I . . . er . . . wasn't sleeping . . ." He said slowly, his own face turning scarlet. He began buttoning his shirt, his fingers fumbling clumsily as he spoke. "I was just reading, and, well, I'm sure you know—"

"Ah, yes, it is a beginner's mistake to pick up a new book right before bed," I said distractedly, my eyes fastened to the buttons on his shirt. In his haste, he had misaligned them, leaving gaps in the fabric and one side of his shirt was longer than the other.

His eyes followed my line of sight down to his shirt and let out an exasperated sigh. "Christ," he hissed as he began trying to fix the buttons. His hands stilled and his eyes shot back up to mine, looking startled. "I'm terribly sorry," he said. "I did not mean to curse in front of a lady—I mean in front of you—well, of course, you are a lady—"

I had made a mistake in showing up unannounced. That much was clear. "It's all right," I said quickly, cutting him off before he could finish digging his own grave. "I apologize, again, for my intrusion. I did not realize my being here would cause quite a fuss. For you." I winced at that last part. It did not sound the way I'd meant. "I mean, well, for both of us. I should go. Perhaps we can . . . plan something next time . . . to meet up, that is." I took a step back. I felt like my face my burst into flame. I wanted to sink through the floor and disappear because of the embarrassment.

"No," he said, putting a hand up, as though to stop me. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, exhaled. When his eyes opened, some of the frantic light had left them and he looked a little less flustered. "I'm sorry. I did not expect you to come tonight, that's all. But, of course, I am happy that you came to seem me. I'm sorry," he repeated.

I offered him a reluctant smile. "May I come in?"

His eyes widened and he quickly stepped out of the doorway. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry. I should have invited you in already."

I stepped inside and he shut the door behind me. "You have no reason to apologize. It is all right, really." Distantly, I wondered what the guards thought of our exchange. They had not broken their facade at all, though, I could not help but wonder if, later, they would sit around a table with friends and discuss the train wreck they'd witnessed this evening. It was not a pleasant thought.

His apartments looked much the same as the last time I'd been in here. Relatively neat and tidy, bookshelves full to bursting with books, his bed slightly rumpled as though he'd been lying on top of it when I'd knocked. An open book rested on his pillow, though, from here, I could not tell what book it was.

I took a deep breath and turned to him. He was watching me, no longer looking frantic in the least, just, perhaps, expectant, his eyes glinting in the firelight. "You go to many balls and events, you eat a lot of expensive food, drink a lot, and yet, you have muscles . . . how is that possible?" I demanded.

He tilted his head, giving me a strange look. "No one has ever asked me that before. What an odd questions." He raised his eyes skyward as he appeared to think. "I train with Gabriel and his men often. I, um, dance quite a lot, which, I think, helps." He said awkwardly. "Perhaps that is why? I cannot say I've thought about it before. But, thank you, for the . . . erm . . . compliment?"

It was not a compliment, so much as an observation, but I refrained from saying as much. I nodded curtly, feeling a little embarrassed to have asked, but content with his answer.

"I see," I replied. Unsure what else we might say on the subject, I turned away from him again and marched over to his bookshelf. I picked a book without even glancing at the title, sat in a chair before the fire, and began to read. William, still looking bewildered, returned to his bed to read, as well.