The Courtship of Julian St. Albans (12 page)

She chuckled and sipped her coffee. “I
want another box of these at least, and you have to tell me about all your dates,”
she said, but he could tell she was enjoying the idea of it.

“Done!” he said, relaxing enough to
eat one of his own macarons, enjoying the sticky-fluffy texture and light,
creamy filling almost as much as she did. At least, the ones that didn’t taste
like flowers.

They stayed hidden in her office long enough
for three cookies apiece, and then both boxes went back into Alex’s big
overcoat as they headed out, not to the glittering uptown shops he’d gone to
with his family but to a quaint little artsy district full of handmade
boutiques, galleries, and antique shops. There was even a frilly, doily-covered
tea shop that served a high tea with all the cliches. Alex couldn’t decide if
Lapointe would love it or hate it there, so he refrained from commenting; she
could surprise him with the places her tough cop exterior cracked to show her
secret girly side.

“So, what do you know about this guy so
far?” asked Lapointe as they found a place to park near one end of the
little district.

Alex sat back for a moment and tried to think.
“Well, I know he likes to be outdoors, to help in the orchards and pick
mushrooms. So, I guess trees, specifically,” he said, unbuckling his
seatbelt and getting out when she did.

She made sure everything was locked and they
started down the first side of the street, sauntering and looking in windows
but not stopping anywhere just yet. “Well, hiking and camping stuff are
pretty much out, right?”

Alex chuckled. “People of his station
generally consider a night in a hotel with no spa to be roughing it,” he
said, though that wasn’t precisely true. Still, he didn’t think that Julian had
any ‘man of adventure’ type ambitions, his love seemed to be more for the land
he lived on than the idea of nights spent out in the forest.

“Wouldn’t that be your
station, too?” she pointed out wryly.

“And you wouldn’t catch me camping for the
world,” he assured her, pausing to look into one of the little galleries.
Instead of huge wall pieces — which would be totally inappropriate unless he
could manage to both discover and acquire some favourite piece of Julian’s by
an old master, and then justify spending his entire inheritance on one gift —
there were dozens of tiny paintings, each on their own wooden easel.

“You could almost carry one around in your
pocket,” said Lapointe, pointing to a stretched canvas only a few inches
square, painted with a scene of cheerful wildflowers with fat bees buzzing
around them.

Alex grinned. “Let’s
look inside,” he said, an idea forming in his head.

Inside the gallery, long shelves at eye level
showcased dozens of the miniature works of art, with subjects ranging from sea
life to more flowers, landscapes to fruit. Alex found one that showed a cluster
of edible mushrooms at the base of a tree, and another of a ripening apple still
up on its branch, the surrounding leaves a blur of paint smudges as though they
were moving in some invisible wind.

“This one’s got a bit of you in it,
doesn’t it?” said Lapointe, just when Alex was starting to despair for a
third.

When he saw the painting he laughed, and knew
he’d come to the right place. A black cat was curled up, glaring balefully out
at the viewer while a small blue butterfly sat peacefully right in the middle
of his forehead.

Fortunately this gallery expected to sell
pieces to people who wanted to take them home immediately, and soon enough the
three paintings were attractively gift-wrapped and Alex was a few hundred
pounds poorer.

“Not making your brother pick up the
bill?” asked Lapointe, when they’d made it back out to the street.

Alex shrugged. “It seems gauche to have
him pay for things I can readily afford,” he said, unable to explain the
urge he’d had to be sure that these, like the heart’s ease potion, came from
him rather than his family name.

“Only you would use ‘gauche’ so naturally
in a sentence,” she said with a laugh. “Let’s go in here?”

They were in front of the horrible tea shop,
and Alex sighed. “Only if you promise it’s not just to torment me.”

She laughed. “It’s not,
I need a new tea cosy, mine’s a disgrace.”

Alex sighed again, but he opened the door for
her like a proper gentleman anyway.

~ ~ ~

They didn’t find anything else that afternoon,
and she made him eat lunch at the tea shop, but it was worth it all the same.
When he got home, Alex snuck another look at the three small, homey little
paintings and he just knew that Julian would appreciate them.

He was just hiding the bag away on top of his
wardrobe when he heard the door open. He was really going to have to redo those
wards.

“So which one of you…” Alex began,
then stopped to stare at his very unexpected visitor.

Julian shifted and blushed.
“It was unlocked,” he said defensively.

“You’re welcome, of course, I just didn’t
expect you,” said Alex, glancing around to be sure his flat was in order,
though he’d been keeping things neater than usual in case of family.
“Please, have a seat, I’ll make some tea. I have some macarons left, too,
I think,” he said, grabbing the box out of his coat — Lapointe had of
course taken hers home with her, but even Alex couldn’t generally manage a full
dozen of the rich treats at once.

“Oh, thank you,” said Julian, taking
a seat gingerly in Alex’s living room as though he was worried he’d be kicked
out at any moment. “I know I shouldn’t be here, but after I heard about
yesterday I just couldn’t wait.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” said
Alex. He busied himself making up a tray with all the proper accessories while
the water boiled, trying to remember if there was anything important missing.
He had the cups and saucers, spoons and sugar and creamer, napkins and even a
little strainer for the tea leaves. He added the plate of cookies, and there
was just enough room left for the teapot, which he filled just as soon as the
kettle boiled.

Julian was smiling when Alex brought the tray
over and set it on his coffee table. “I’m glad, I was worried, well, when
I heard…”

“Just what did you hear?” asked Alex,
feeling self-conscious in his well-worn, comfortable clothing, no match at all
to Julian’s impeccable style.

“I heard you were naked with that
doctor!” blurted Julian, and then he blushed.

“Julian,” said Alex, getting a sense
of deja vu at the vehemence of Julian’s jealousy, “was I the first
eligible man you saw after Cecil’s death?”

Julian laughed bitterly.
“I don’t know, Godfrey’s probably still single.”

“I don’t think he counts,” said Alex
with a chuckle, “unless you’ve been harbouring a secret crush.”

Julian shook his head.
“No, no, nothing like that.”

“Well, I assure you that Dr. Tamlinson
took no liberties,” said Alex. He pulled out his watch fob and idly toyed
with it, trying to hear that familiar buzzing in Julian without the risk of
letting it back into himself. “But I’m worried, because the item that
knocked me out and tried to contaminate my mind with its spell was something from
Cecil’s desk.”

Julian shook his head harder this time, denial
written on his face “No, that’s impossible! Cecil would never!”

“I don’t think he did,” assured Alex.
“I think it was a gift, intended to help keep him in love with you, though
I can’t for the life of me think why.”

Julian blinked. “Then… He never loved
me?” he asked, voice small and sad and Alex cursed his own social
ineptitude.

“Of course he loved you,” said Alex,
“that’s why I don’t understand the spell, it’s like it took what’s there
and made it stronger, faster than it would have been naturally.” Alex
deemed the tea ready and poured them both cups, using the strainer since he had
no intention of reading anyone’s tea leaves today, with so much magical
interference in the room. “How do you take it?” he asked.

Julian blushed bright red,
which made Alex blush and add, “Your tea.”

That got a wan laugh. “Just a bit of milk,
please,” said Julian, then accepting the cup with thanks. “Sorry, I
guess my mind’s just in the gutter today.”

Alex could very much sympathise. “Is there
anything you got as a gift right around the time you met Cecil?” he asked,
hoping Julian would understand the reason for his prying, or at least answer
him truthfully.

“It was right after my birthday,”
said Julian with a sigh, “so I had a ton of gifts, you know, I’d just come
of age and my parents threw a big party with a bunch of strangers and
schoolmates I didn’t really know, it was all absurd, but I got some great stuff
out of it.”

“The perfect time to hide something
carrying an enchantment it’s not supposed to have,” said Alex glumly.

“Do you think you’ll find whatever it
is?” asked Julian, worriedly toying with his teacup. “Will I stop…
Will I feel differently when it’s gone?”

Alex cocked his head. “I think you’ll feel
what you would normally have felt,” he said, “but I’m not really
sure. It’s not my area of expertise by any means, compulsion spells are
actually pretty uncommon.”

“Why?” asked Julian, taking a sip of
tea and making a little moue that showed he, too, disapproved of Alex’s
pedestrian tastes.

Alex snagged a macaron and nibbled delicately
at it while he tried to think of how to explain. “It’s a little bit like
karma, I guess,” he said, “and the rule of threefold, except it
doesn’t really come back to you in such a straightforward way as all that. It’s
more that doing really evil magic like that opens you up to other things, bad
things, that most mages wouldn’t want to risk.”

“I guess I was… am a good enough prize
to be worth the risk,” said Julian, sounding quite depressed indeed.

“Shouldn’t that be a compliment?”
said Alex, cocking his head and giving Julian a teasing wink.

Julian laughed, but it was a little bit forced.
“I’m having a hard time looking at it that way,” he said with a sigh.

“Will it help if I swear to you on my own
magic that I have not bespelled any of my gifts to you, except to help
you?” said Alex, very serious now.

Julian looked at him and
asked, “You’d do that?”

“I would,” said Alex, “and I’ll
even give you an early present that I think will help.” He stood up and
took the box down from the bookshelf where he’d hidden it, passing it to
Julian.

Julian opened it up and read the card inside,
and his eyes took on a suspicious shine. “You made this for me?” he
asked, voice tight.

Alex nodded. “I still remember you as the
heartbroken boy in his lover’s chambers, trying to find sense in a world full
of loss,” he said, giving one of Julian’s hands a squeeze. “I know
you have to be more than that, now, but I also know that boy’s still in you.”

Julian picked up the little phial, watching the
potion swirl inside like jade clouds. “Should I take it now?” he
asked.

“You should take it tonight before
bed,” said Alex, closing the phial back into its case. “It’ll do you
the most good if you can sleep under its effects.”

“Thank you,” said Julian, leaning
forward to brush a soft kiss over Alex’s cheek. This one warmed him to his
toes, because it conveyed no status at all beyond his status in Julian’s
affections.

Alex smiled softly.
“You’re welcome. I just wish it wasn’t needed.”

There didn’t seem much to say after that, and
soon enough Julian had taken his leave, and Alex decided that maybe today was
the sort of day he could finish a dozen macarons on his own after all.

CHAPTER
11

In Which We Have Tea, Followed by a Murder

The next few days were much less eventful. Alex
received and accepted his formal invitation to tea with Julian, the enclosed
personal note assuring him it would be a picnic in the orchard, just as he’d
suggested, and thanking him for the early gift. It seemed less awkward than the
previous notes, or perhaps Alex was just getting used to Julian’s writing
style.

Alex picked up the suit, fully tailored, and
hoped he really did look fashionable and not like a purple git. He didn’t dare
show up at the Agency to ask Lapointe for her opinion; men there rarely wore
anything brighter than navy or charcoal with their crisp white shirts, and he
could only imagine the comments.

There were no less than four separate calls
from his family the day of his first proper date, all with advice that ranged
from insulting to absurd. He dressed carefully, amused that he’d even been
provided with matching boxers and socks. He felt awkward arriving without a
gift, so he had Victor’s driver stop at the bakery for a bow-bedecked box of
sweets. He also picked up another box of Lapointe’s macaroons, figuring he
could use them to lure her away from her office after tea.

Godfrey was waiting at the door with his usual
expression of very proper disdain, and Alex checked his watch as he walked up
to the door. “Am I late?” he asked pointedly; it was a very proper
three minutes to the hour.

“No, sir, of course not,” said
Godfrey with a sniff. “Master Julian is waiting for you in the salon, if
you’ll just come this way.”

They walked a short, winding way through the
house, and Alex found himself in the same room they’d used for the start of the
dinner gathering. This time Julian was sitting alone, facing the fire, and he
turned and rose with a smile on his face that made Alex’s heart skip a beat.

“Alexander, so good of you to come,”
he said, offering Alex his hand, which Alex politely kissed. “That will be
all for now, Godfrey.”

“Sir,” said
Godfrey, voice dripping displeasure as he took his leave.

Alex chuckled. “He doesn’t like me at all,”
said Alex, letting Julian’s hand drop. “Here, I brought these just so it
wouldn’t look like I hadn’t given you anything at all,” he said, handing
over the pastry box.

Julian smiled and set it aside, then stretched
up to kiss Alex’s cheek. “Thank you for the early gift, it’s made all the
difference in the world,” he said, and Alex had to admit he did look
better.

Interestingly, the buzz of magic seemed subdued
as well, or at least Alex noticed it less, even when they touched.

“I’m glad,” Alex said, and he realised
it was true. No matter his reasons for joining the Courtship, he genuinely
wanted his participation to make things better for Julian.

The relieved, cautious
happiness on Julian’s face was reward enough.

A servant came to the door and waited, not Godfrey
but one of the many random maids that a place like this employed. “Your
picnic is ready, sir,” she said with a little curtsey.

“Thanks, Janice,” said Julian,
snagging his box and gesturing for Alex to join him. They meandered through
parts of the house that Alex had never been in and out a back door into the
warm autumn sunshine. “It’s a bit of a walk, I hope that’s all
right.”

“I’m a big, healthy boy,” teased
Alex, taking the box and then tucking Julian’s arm in his own. “You’re
supposed to be the retiring, fragile one here.”

Julian chuckled. “I suppose I can stand
being a bit pampered,” he said, giving Alex’s arm a squeeze. “You’re
quite fashionable today, no black.”

Alex blushed a little. “My sisters
insisted,” he said. “I feel like an aubergine.”

Julian laughed. “You
look quite handsome, the designer did a good job.”

Alex blushed more, cursing his fair complexion.
“Thank you,” he said. “You look quite nice yourself,” he
added, letting his eyes sweep over Julian’s body just once before putting them back
on the path. Julian was wearing autumn colours that suited him well, warm gold
and rich red-brown that brought out the texture of his hair.

Julian gave him an impish smile. “Are you
just saying that because I did first?” he teased.

“Now you’re just fishing,” said Alex
with a laugh. “I’m saying it because it suits you, you look more alive
like this. I might look good in black, but it washed you out.”

“I was also sleeping poorly, but I’ve had
three good nights since your potion,” said Julian sincerely, the teasing
put aside for now.

Alex smiled over at him. “Good,” he
said. “Now, where are we… Oh, I see!” There was a rug laid out
beneath one of the apple trees, with a table and two chairs set up, and
servants hovering around to serve their tea.

It was Julian’s turn to flush. “They
wouldn’t let me do a proper picnic, they said it wasn’t seemly,” he said
shyly.

“We’ll have time for real picnics once
I’ve won your hand,” said Alex, having no idea where the sentiment came
from. He’d been careful up until now not to lead Julian on too much, but the
surreal romanticism of the setting was getting to him. He wasn’t used to having
sumptuous meals with lovely young men who supposedly adored him, murder or not.

“Perhaps we will at
that,” said Julian coyly.

The servants allowed Alex to pull out Julian’s
chair and place the gift to one side of Julian’s place setting, and even to
seat himself, but that was as far as their moment of privacy went before they
descended. Napkins were placed, glasses poured with water and a crisp white
wine that tasted of apples and sunlight to Alex, when he managed to take a sip.
A salad was placed in front of each of them, more apples and greens with goat
cheese and what proved to be an apple cider vinaigrette.

“I take it your chef was going for a
theme?” said Alex teasingly, gesturing around them once they’d both had a
chance to eat a few bites. “It is quite a lovely orchard, I can see why
you like it out here. I bet the view is amazing from up in the trees.”

Julian laughed delightedly. “It is, and I
bet we could scandalise everyone by climbing them after pudding,” he said.

Alex grinned. “That sounds like an
excellent plan,” he agreed. That started a conversation about things
they’d gotten into trouble doing as children, which was a strange sort of
nostalgia for Alex. He remembered loving those things, but the resentment of
being constantly scolded for the things he liked best had built into a
bitterness that didn’t go well with the light wine or delicious food.

It helped when he concentrated on Julian’s
stories, on the note of longing for when his parents had been around still and
the joy in his face when he talked about hiding out in the attic from his
tutors. Alex had hidden from his siblings more than his tutors, but they both
agreed that window seats were a must for happy childhood reading. That moved
into a discussion of beloved books that lasted through the soup, main course,
and all the way to the final course, which was sliced apples, cheese and
crackers.

“Do you own a dairy, too?” asked
Alex, thinking of the other ways he’d seen Alex’s chef use cheese, mostly on
the salads.

Julian grinned. “Of course, there’s a bit
of everything to serve the main house, you know how it is.

“I do,” said Alex with a chuckle.
“It’s just strange, you know, I’m so used to takeout and biscuits and tea
from Tesco that I’d nearly forgotten how each big house is its own little
ecology and economy, with almost everything coming from the land around
it.”

“That’s right, you know, you clean up so
well I almost forgot you were one of the plebeian masses,” teased Julian.

“It’s utterly spoiled my tastes, or so my
family tells me,” said Alex wryly. “They complain about the tea
whenever they drop in uninvited.”

“Does this mean that they’re nicer
invited?” said Julian, taking a bite of crisp apple that made Alex’s
attention go to his mouth for a long moment.

He made himself laugh, but he wasn’t sure it
hid the way he’d wanted to just stare at Julian’s pink mouth. “It means
they’re never invited,” he said.

“I’d miss Emmy if she wasn’t around,”
said Julian, a little more serious now.

“As you should,” said Alex.
“Your sister’s got your best interests at heart, I think.” Again, he
felt as though he’d reassured Julian of things that he himself wasn’t so sure
of, but the words were said and couldn’t be taken back.

Besides, it made Julian
smile.

“I hope she does let me hold a Courtship
for her, once I’m married and the household’s settled,” said Julian with a
soft, sad smile. “I think she gets lonely, sometimes.”

“Not half so lonely as
she’d be without you, I bet,” said Alex reassuringly.

While they were talking their wine glasses were
discreetly removed and the first actual pot of tea made its appearance.
“How do you take… your tea?” said Julian, eyes full of mischief and
voice full of innuendo.

“Three sugars and lots of milk,
please,” said Alex, though he’d been tempted to make some inappropriate
pun instead. He’d save the awkward flirting for when they were out to dinner
and not surrounded by people who might later advise Julian to dump him as a
lecher. “You might want to open your gift now,” he added, accepting
his cup.

“Oh, yes, I forgot,” said Julian,
grinning as he untied the ribbon and looked inside. “Oh, you
remembered!”

Alex grinned, pleased to have gotten it right.
“You did say you got used to such plebeian treats when you were at
university,” he teased.

Julian giggled and lifted out one of the little
fairy cakes, setting it on a clear spot on his mostly-devoured cheese plate.
“I haven’t had one of these in ages, wherever did you find them?”

“The same bakery that makes Agent
Lapointe’s favourite macarons also makes these. I swear they specialise in
things people have sentimental attachment to. They also have giant frosted
gingerbread men all year round,” explained Alex.

“That sounds brilliant,” said Julian,
peeling the paper off his fairy cake. The one he’d chosen was chocolate, with
cream spilling out the top to hold up the cake “wings,” and Alex
wondered if it also had jam inside. Some of them did and some didn’t — Alex had
asked for an assortment to surprise them both. Julian made a face of pure
happiness as he bit down on the cake, and the sound of pleased surprise that
followed gave Alex a warm feeling rather lower than his chest.

“Jam?” asked Alex, and Julian grinned
and nodded. Alex sipped his tea and let himself enjoy the moment without
thinking about magical influences or murder suspects or anything but Julian St.
Albans and the pure, sensual joy he was getting out of eating a childish treat.

It was actually quite refreshing.

“Will we have time for a little tour, once
we’re done here?” asked Alex, when Julian and finished the last bite of
his first cake.

“Mmm, yes, there should be,” said
Julian, closing the lid on his box regretfully. “As long as I don’t take
the time to eat the whole box, anyway.”

“There’s a temporary preservation charm on
the box, they should last about a week,” said Alex, “so there’s no
need to rush.”

Julian grinned. “You do think of
everything, don’t you?” he said, but Alex took it as rhetorical. Especially
when Julian went on. “You know, this would’ve been a good enough gift even
without the other.”

“Well, good for you I’m especially
generous,” teased Alex, having another sip of the tea and finding it quite
excellent. “This is delicious, what kind is it?”

A servant stepped forward and said, “It is
an Assam of the first grade, sir.” Unlike Godfrey, his manner didn’t
suggest that Alex should obviously have known that, but was instead politely
informative.

“Thank you,” said Alex with a grin.
“I think Victor prefers Darjeeling, maybe that’s why I never like his
tea.”

The servant looked amused, and Julian chuckled.
“As you say, sir,” said the man, stepping back to stand with the
others and their cleverly charmed serving trays, which had kept the hot food hot
and the cold food cold so the courses wouldn’t grow old while waiting.

“It’s good to know you
like my taste in tea,” said Julian teasingly.

Alex grinned. “I’m sure you’d be appalled
at most of my pedestrian tastes,” he said, “but I have been known to
enjoy the finer things when give the opportunity.”

Julian looked pleased by this particular
innuendo, and Alex tried not to wonder when he would put his foot in it. There
never really was an if in these situations, sadly.

“But could a man like you be happy, with
only the finer things at his fingertips?” asked Julian, his tone
flirtatious but face intent on the answer. His fingers skimmed over the small
expanse of throat visible above his collar, and Alex had to swallow for a
moment to try to remember what they were supposed to be talking about besides
the possible taste of that warm, golden skin.

“I, ah, I think I could once more become
accustomed to such luxury,” said Alex, trying to think at all. Why did
Julian have to be so damnably attractive, anyway? He wasn’t used to the way it
made his brain stutter and lose track of itself, especially when he was
supposed to be gathering clues to a murder.