THIRTY POUNDS' WORTH
It was as if some madman had grown a forest inside of a glass jar. Or as close to a forest as I'd ever witnessed.
"It's small," Hunter said to me, our arms linked and his head ducked close to mine to keep our conversation private. He was wearing the new top hat, so his features were a human version of his own, but even so, I missed the yellow of his eyes and the way his tusks pressed into his cheeks when he smiled.
"I was just thinking it was enormous," I said, laughing, my face flushed and warm from the humid air of this greenhouse, as Hunter called it. My gloves hid the cut on my hand, and the high collar of the jacket Hunter had gifted to me hid most of the bruising on my throat. Together, we looked like any elegant couple in London.
"Do you like it?" Hunter asked.
There were walking paths through the building, with enormous, thick, waxy leaves reaching over their stone-lined beds. They looked more like exotic fans than any plant I was familiar with.
"It's my favorite place in London," I said immediately.
From the moment we'd walked into the gardens, I'd experienced a sense of settling. Kew Gardens made Stepney Green feel like a patch of lawn, infinitely vaster and more relaxing than my little neighborhood park, both familiar and strange at once. I'd never seen so many varieties of trees and flowers in my entire life.
"Mine as well," Hunter said. And he did seem lighter as we walked. He'd come from mountains and forests, he'd said, and I now understood with more clarity how vastly different the city really was from the natural world.
Tears stung my eyes and I blinked quickly, not wanting to alarm Hunter. My father had stolen me from this, from the woods he'd met my mother in. The only park I'd been afforded growing up was Stepney, and it now seemed so shabby and young by comparison.
I wanted to climb off the path and into the heavy and unusual plants surrounding us, to disappear into lush foliage. For the first time, I offered sympathy to the mother who'd abandoned me. Of course she couldn't have tied her life to my father's, not when this was where we belonged, when this was the life she'd really known and loved. I only regretted that she hadn't kept me with her.
"Are you hungry?" Hunter asked.
I blushed. "I am, but...I don't want to leave."
Hunter grinned, and I wished we were alone so I could kiss that delight on his face, let it mingle with my own.
"I arranged a picnic for us," he said.
"I've never had a picnic," I admitted. I'd seen them on the green as a girl, had even considered enjoying one by myself after my father's death. They looked whimsical and leisurely.
"I haven't either, actually," Hunter said. "Unless I ought to count eating in fields with other warriors before a battle."
I grinned at that. "I can't imagine you out of your lovely waistcoat."
He arched an eyebrow, leading us toward the grand, tall doors of the greenhouse. My steps slowed with an instinctive reluctance, and Hunter's smile broadened.
"There's even more outside, little one," he said. "Entire woods where we might get lost together."
That was tempting, and I followed cheerfully. The walk away from the greenhouse and into the arboretum was long and decorated with new trees, an entire collection of species arranged together. They had unfamiliar voices, but they all called to me.
Hunter guided us into a clearing, away from the arboretum and toward the edge of a lake. A small man was already waiting by a spread blanket, a wicker basket resting on the corner. A few other visitors to the gardens were passing, giving the picnic arrangement a curious glance. Was this the kind of life I might lead with Hunter? I'd never been to a fine restaurant or a fashionable dressmaker, or a theater where girls weren't streaking across the stage, chased by monsters.
"Being here makes me miss home sometimes," Hunter said, voice low and quiet, almost anxious in honesty.
"How long has it been?"
"Almost three years since I visited. I think you would like it there too," he said. "There's majesty in mountains, unlike anything men can fashion."
"I've never traveled...but I would like to."
Our steps were slow, words careful, and I looked over to find Hunter already staring back at me. His hand covered mine on his arm, stroking the back of it through my glove.
"Dens might not be the most appropriate place for a woman," he said, frowning slightly. "But there are other mountains we might visit than those of my home."
"You might be underestimating this woman," I answered, softening my teasing with a gentle smile. "You usually do."
Hunter wet his lips but didn't argue, just guided me to the blanket, his gaze trailing over the still water thoughtfully.
* * *
"Mmm,I've been wondering how you always managed to do this without waking me," I mumbled as Hunter lowered my head gently down into his pillows, my blouse draped over his forearm.
There was a small fire burning across from the bed, and it gave the dark room a warm glow. I glanced out the window to my left and found the sky dark. We'd left the gardens before sunset, but all the walking and the harrowing night before had left me exhausted. I must've fallen asleep in the carriage again.
"I work very slowly and gently," Hunter said, smiling at me.
I looked down and found my skirt already unbuttoned, and I waved him away as he reached to help. "I can manage this."
I slid up out of the skirt, watching Hunter reach for his own shirt buttons. My feet were sore, and the nap in the carriage was enough rest for the moment. It felt incredibly decadent to not be at the theater, probably my first real night off in months, if not years.
"Hunter? Do orcs give foot rubs?" I asked, grinning as he laughed.
"With a little instruction," he said, nodding. His skin glowed in the firelight, and I was especially delighted when he continued to undress until he was completely bare, this time also lacking any of the shy reserve from the first night. It was good to see progress in my orc.
I watched his back and ass flex, musing on the question of whether such a beautiful view might ever become mundane as he crossed the room. He returned to my side with a small tin.
"For aches," he explained, sitting down at the edge of the bed and patting his naked thigh for my feet.
I settled on my back, propping my ankles up on his warm skin. "How are your wounds?"