The Courtship of Julian St. Albans (14 page)

“Two curries, three lassis,”
corrected Smedley, “and another two on our second break.”

“Not to mention enough
chai to drown a caravan,” said Alex.

She looked from one to the other and put her
face in her hands. “Oh, lords a-leaping. Male bonding. I’m doomed.”

“Don’t worry, they’ll be back to normal
tomorrow,” said Geoff, handing each of them a steaming cup of restorative.
“You remember what it’s like getting attuned to him.”

“Was I ever that
bad?” she asked, glancing between them.

“Yes,” said Alex with a chuckle.
“Remember when you got written up for it?”

“For telling that minster he had a slappable
arse for a vicar,” she said, face going back in her hands. “I thought
I’d never get off desk duty.”

Geoff laughed. “You,
Alexander, are trouble. Drink your restorative.”

Alex drank it and made a
face. “Gah, what is this, double strength?”

“Triple, your hands are
shaking,” said Geoff, leaving them again.

Alex shuddered, but drank it all anyway.
“Oh, thank the gods,” said Alex, when Geoff returned rolling a little
cart with tea for four.

“Don’t get too excited, it’s herbal,”
Geoff said, pouring cups for everyone. Alex and Smedley  finished off their medicinal drinks in record
time; even herbal tea had to be better than the restorative. “None of you
need any more caffeine, and I’m off to bed after this,” said Geoffrey,
handing out the cups. He gave Alex a considering look and added with a dramatic
sigh, “Sadly alone.”

“Just as alone as the rest of us,”
said Alex, mock-swooning to get them all laughing again.

Lapointe smirked at them the whole time they
drank their tea, which Alex took to mean she was on the mend.

CHAPTER
13

In Which We Are, Rather Suddenly, on a Date

Alex’s flat had been blissfully empty when he
got home, and he barely managed to get changed out of his filthy clothes before
he fell into bed and let sleep claim him.

He awoke to the sound of the door buzzer, which
proved to be Julian’s courier with an official letter scheduling their second
date. The courier looked like he might have tried to wait on a reply, but Alex
managed to drop enough hints about being out late at a crime scene that he
didn’t bother. Of course, the blood smeared all over the coat hanging by the
door might also have had something to do with it.

A quick check of his mobile showed him it was
mid-afternoon and he had four different phone messages and a ridiculous number of
missed calls, mostly from various people within the department. He sighed,
resigning himself to wakefulness, but set letter and phone aside and went to
make tea and scrounge up some breakfast before he dealt with either.

Two cups of tea, an energy bar and a shower
later, Alex started with his phone. There was a message from Geoff, assuring
him that Lapointe was fine but that he wanted a second opinion from Alex on her
shoulder, which apparently was still bleeding sluggishly. Another one told him
to disregard the first, as he’d found a bit of stray shrapnel hiding in the
wound and everything was fine now. A third was from Lapointe, telling him to
stop worrying and get plenty of rest, which made Alex laugh.

The last one was from Armistead of all people,
ordering Alex to come in and assist with the mountain of evidence he had so
unkindly added to the pile from Mandeville’s murder that they were still going
through.

Alex deleted them all with vicious glee and
called Lapointe back to tease her about wanting to stay wounded so she could
flirt with Geoff longer.

“I’m not the one whose creamy mounds he’s
been praising,” she said, sounding amused but still a bit drugged.

“That’s because he hasn’t seen yours yet,
I’m sure,” said Alex. “Not that I have any idea if they’re
creamy,” he added with a little shudder.

She laughed. “You’ll
never find out, either.”

“And don’t think I’m not grateful for
that,” said Alex, sipping his third cup of tea and idly toying with
Julian’s letter.

“Geoff says it’ll be a few days before he
lets me go home,” she said sulkily. “I don’t think even a doctor as
cute as him would be worth extra nights in this awful bed.”

“Puncture wounds are prone to infection,
and hard to treat yourself when they’re on your back,” countered Alex.
“If you get infected, you’ll end up at a real hospital.”

“I’m bored,” she
protested, starting to sound sleepy.

“I’ll bring you a book,” said Alex.
“You’d be more bored on an antibiotic drip.”

She laughed. “Yeah, all
right, but you’d better visit me.”

“Promise,” said Alex. They said their
goodbyes and hung up, and then Alex checked in with Geoff just to be sure he
wasn’t needed.

Finally, he called Smedley and told him that if
Armistead ever called him again, he’d change his number and make sure no one at
the department had it but Lapointe.

Smedley was still laughing
when he hung up.

“I suppose I can’t avoid you any
longer,” said Alex, turning over the card and breaking the seal, feeling a
slight tingle of familiar magic from the St. Albans family crest stamped into
the wax. He had no idea why he was apprehensive about this, but a mage who
ignored such instincts was usually short-lived.

The letter started with a formal apology for
the late notice, and named tonight at 7 o’clock for their second date.

Alex looked at the clock and
swore.

“It’s a good thing I’ve already got your
gift,” he said to the letter, hoping his long night didn’t show. He’d
barely have time to get dressed and go, let alone finding somewhere that would
worth taking a man like Julian that would accept a reservation on such short
notice. Not to mention the fact that his coat was still covered in blood from
the crime scene, having been dragged along the floor when he was helping
Murielle.

He sighed and dialled his mobile, already
heading to the bedroom to figure out which of the outfits he’d bought was
suitable for tonight.

“This is a
surprise,” said Henry wryly.

“I need a favour,” said Alex,
stripping while he talked. “My date with Julian St. Albans is tonight, in
about three hours.”

“Where are you taking
him?” asked Henry.

“I don’t know,” said Alex, “I
just found out about it five minutes ago. That’s the favour.”

Henry laughed. “Of all the people that
come to me for access to the best places, I never thought you’d be one of
them.”

Alex sighed, shifting the
phone awkwardly. “Will you do it?”

“Of course I will, give me ten minutes and
don’t pick your outfit yet,” said Henry. “I’ll tell you what’s
appropriate once I’ve made your plans for you.”

Alex sat on the edge of the
bed with a sigh. “Thank you, Henry.”

Henry chuckled again. “I should let you
twist, but Victor would never forgive me.”

“You’ll enjoy having me
owe you,” said Alex.

“That I will,”
said Henry, and hung up.

Alex sighed and flopped back on the bed,
half-undressed and in despair of ever figuring out his life.

He felt it was typical of the day when the
doorbell sounded again. “Just a minute!” he yelled, slipping his
shirt back on and buttoning it hastily, not bothering to tuck it in. He left
his belt on the bed and made sure his flies were zipped, then opened the door
to find the St. Albans courier had returned.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I really must have
your reply,” said the poor man, trying so hard not to stare at Alex’s
disheveled state.

“Oh, yes, of course, do I need to write it
out?” said Alex, looking down long enough to fix the crooked buttons on
his shirt.

“If you are accepting Master Julian’s
invitation, I can take a verbal message,” he said, expression relieved
when Alex glanced back up, properly covered finally.

Alex chuckled. “I am very pleased and
honoured to accept Julian’s invitation, and will be by in my car to pick him up
at seven.”

“Very good, sir,” said the courier,
giving a bow and scampering off just as Alex’s phone rang again.

“Are you dying?”
said Alex into the phone, closing the door.

“Er, no?” said
Smedley.

“Then I don’t care, it can wait until
tomorrow,” said Alex. “I’ve got my second Courtship date tonight and
I can’t afford to bollocks it up.”

Smedley chuckled. “I was just calling to
let you know Armistead’s been chastised by my boss for calling you after the
extra effort you put forth to clear the crime scene for our men.”

“Oh, that is the best news I’ve had all
day,” said Alex, letting himself enjoy the mental image for a moment. Then
his call waiting beeped, and he sighed. “Gotta go.”

“Tomorrow,” said
Smedley, hanging up.

Alex didn’t even bother to sigh as he clicked
over to Victor. “So, you’ll be needing the car, then?”

“Oh, bloody hell, yes, is it even
available?” said Alex, resisting the urge to beat his head against the
nearest hard surface.

“Of course it is,” said Victor.
“He’ll be there at half past six, unless you need more shopping?”

“No, well, I should be fine unless Henry
says I need to be wearing something the girls didn’t make me buy,” said
Alex, giving up on the idea of a self-induced concussion and settling for
another cup of tea.

“Right, half six and
you’ll call back if you need it sooner,” said Victor.

It was Alex’s day to be hung up on, he thought,
staring at the phone until the screen went dark.

The kettle whistled, and he made his tea right
in the mug with an extra bag for good measure. He had the feeling he’d need it.

He’d barely managed a sip when the phone rang
again, Henry with an update that he was on his way and would dress Alex
himself.

“I am grown man and can dress
myself,” said Alex, but he was speaking to no one.

Some days, he hated his
life.

Knowing the sort of places Henry favoured, Alex
got out the glowing cufflinks and cravat pin set, finding that the gentle glow
wasn’t too flash in the daylight. He changed into a pair of good silk pants and
belted his robe tight, then deactivated the wards that kept his family out of
his bedroom, since he wasn’t about to trot his whole wardrobe out into the main
room.

Fortunately, Henry approved of black far more
than his sisters, and soon enough Alex was dressed in an icy blue shirt that
went well with the glowing accessories, black trousers, black jacket and no
cravat at all. The open collar of his shirt made his neck seem graceful and
gave his throat an enticing length, the blue and black setting off his
colouring quite well.

“You do clean up all right,” said
Henry, putting the cravat pin through one jacket lapel in a manner that seemed
rather rakish to Alex. “Victor’s driver has your destinations, of course,
but you’ll be eating at Nihon, which is the trendiest place right now. Then
there’s drinks at the Gin Joint, which is totally not trendy because the people
who love it don’t want it spoiled, including me.”

Alex wondered if he ought to feel honoured or
completely afraid that he was basically getting one of Henry’s famous whirlwind
get-her-in-the-sack dates without having to actually go on it with Henry.
“No dancing, I hope?” he asked.

Henry laughed. “I remember, though you do
like that boring ballroom stuff?” he said, looking relieved when Alex
nodded. “The Gin Joint has no dancing, but once it gets late enough you’ll
take him to the Starlight Tower; they stop serving dinner and open up the floor
at eleven for ballroom dancing. It’s very romantic,” said Henry with a leer.

“I’m not trying to get laid, Henry,”
said Alex. “Is there anyone besides the usual I have to tip?”

Henry nodded. “The maitre d’ at Nihon, the
doorman at the Gin Joint, and the bandmaster at Starlight, give them each one
of these,” said Henry, pulling a small stack of his own calling cards out
of his pocket, each of which had at least one hundred-pound note clipped to it.
“They’re all expecting you, and this will let them know you’re my
brother.”

Alex relaxed with a sigh. “Thanks, Henry,
I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”

“Just promise me you won’t wear that
coat,” said Henry, gesturing to the bloodstained greatcoat, “and I’ll
still take it out of you later.”

Alex chuckled. “I promise, I’ve got a good
coat in here somewhere,” he said, fumbling in the hall closet until he
produced his proper cashmere coat, the fabric still in perfect condition
despite his haphazard storage, thanks to spells just as good as the ones on his
shoes. “Father’s doing.”

“Christmas before you told us all to sod
off, wasn’t it?” asked Henry, taking it out of his hands.

“Just so,” said Alex, transferring
the necessary possessions from his other coat while Henry was conveniently
holding it. “Should I wear a watch, or is that too old-fashioned for this
look?”

“The girls made you get a silver one, that
should be all right, Fauna was telling me you’re all attached to your new
bauble,” said Henry, lounging in Alex’s favourite chair. “The club
boys like to show off their fancy magic watches, so you won’t seem out of place.”

“Good,” said Alex, fetching it and
looking at the face. “Bugger, well, good thing you approve of my outfit,
I’m nearly out of time,” he said, snagging Julian’s wrapped gift.
“Victor’s man will be here ay moment. He pocketed his mobile, double
checked that the bribes were in their own pocket, his wallet was full and
included Victor’s credit card, and the kettle was off.

“That’s my cue to go,” said Henry,
swinging his feet to the floor. “Don’t forget, you owe me.”

Alex laughed humourlessly.
“You’d never let me, dear brother.”

“Too true,” said
Henry cheerfully, letting himself out.

Alex thought about redoing the bedroom wards,
but his pocket buzzed, and this time it was the driver telling him it was time
to go.

Alex spent the drive alternately fidgeting and
doing calming exercises, interspersed with the occasional text message exchange
with Smedley about the various items they’d catalogued at the crime scene.

By the time they pulled into the long driveway
at the St. Albans estate, Alex had almost managed to calm his nerves. He put
his phone on silent and pocketed it as he got out of the car, feeling a bit
like his skin fit wrong in all these new clothes, without even his regular
greatcoat to comfort him. Even Godfrey’s familiar sneer was no comfort, and it
took Alex a moment to realise why — this would be his first meeting with
Julian St. Albans where he knew Julian wasn’t being magically coerced into
liking him.