It took only minutes to reach the gates, and Heath could feel Merletta’s nerves growing beside him. He took hold of her hand with his free one, squeezing reassuringly. She sent a fleeting glance up at him, but her smile was a little strained. Heath led them across the courtyard, calling to a groom as he went. The boy who ran up stared at the visitors with open astonishment, until Heath prompted him to take the mare’s halter.
“Was that a servant?” Merletta asked, her eyes not on Heath but on the manor’s elaborate front rising above them.
“Uh…yes. He’s an under groom,” Heath said. Seeing her confusion, he added quickly, “He works for the head groom, who takes care of the horses.”
“Even your animals have servants?” Merletta asked, sounding dazed.
Heath gave an uncomfortable laugh. “Well, they work for my father, not for the horses.”
He squeezed her hand again, wishing he had the words to wipe the unease from her face. He hadn’t even considered this aspect of Merletta’s introduction to his family and home. Their worlds and cultures might be different, but wealth and privilege had a universal language of their own. And no one would know that better than a nameless orphan who’d grown up with neither.
No servants appeared to assist Heath upon entry to the manor, because of course he didn’t knock or ring the large brass bell suspended above the door. He personally showed Merletta and August into the smallest sitting room, then hailed a passing maid.
“Can you please request refreshments from the kitchens?” he asked. “And notify my mother that we have visitors. Friends of mine,” he added, seeing the maid peer curiously behind him.
He closed the door, turning to his guests with a smile. “Please make yourselves at home,” he said, gesturing to the comfortable chairs ranged by the fire.
“It’s much warmer in here,” said August approvingly. “I was starting to wonder how you all live in these conditions.” He lowered himself experimentally into a chair, seeming encouraged when it held his weight.
“I suppose in the water, you can’t keep the cold out in the same way,” Heath said thoughtfully. “But here we can warm our buildings considerably. It’s summer that’s the real problem. It’s not so easy to cool the place down when the heat is blistering.”
“Is this how you warm it?” Merletta asked, approaching the fireplace, in which flames leaped merrily. “It’s very beautiful, isn’t it?” She reached out a hand toward it. “Ooh yes, I can feel it getting warmer.”
“Whoa!” Heath leaped up, grabbing Merletta’s hand as it neared the fire. “Don’t touch it. You’ll be burned.”
“Oops.” Merletta gave him a sheepish look. “I should know better, shouldn’t I? I guess it’s just like a thermal vent, and I know from experience that those—”
She broke off as her eyes shifted over Heath’s shoulder, and her body went still. Heath spun around, feeling absurdly like a guilty child caught in a misdemeanor as he caught sight of his mother framed in the doorway. She was looking blankly at Heath’s hand, which still gripped Merletta’s, and he dropped it quickly.
“Mother,” he said, moving forward, and hoping she hadn’t seen Merletta’s illogical behavior. “Let me introduce some friends of mine. This is—”
Before he could continue, the duke appeared behind his wife. He gently prodded her into the room and began to close the door, but before he could do so, it was pushed fully open again to reveal Percival.
Great. Heath sighed slightly. It looked like the whole family had come to see the spectacle.
“Mother, Father…Percival,” Heath said, unable to keep a hint of irritation from his voice on the last name. “These are friends of mine. This is August,” he gestured to the guard, who’d sprung to his feet the moment the duchess entered the room, “and this is Merletta.”
All three pairs of eyes flew instantly to Merletta, and Heath winced slightly. Clearly Laura had shared with the family the way he’d rambled Merletta’s name while in his fever dreams the day he was almost killed by August’s patrol.
“This is my father and mother,” he continued the introduction. “The Duke and Duchess of Bexley. And my brother, Percival.”
“We’re delighted to meet you,” the duchess said, her eyes searching as they studied Merletta’s face. She glanced at Heath. “Were we expecting visitors?”
“I invited them some time ago,” Heath said. “But they didn’t think they were at liberty to accept the invitation at that time. Happily, a change in their circumstances made it possible after all.”
Percival was looking from Heath to the guests impatiently, clearly sick of the polite dance. “But who are you?” he asked Merletta bluntly. “Where are you from?”
Merletta cleared her throat, but Heath jumped in before she could speak. “She’s not from Valoria,” he said. “Truth be told, I met her on a particularly long exploratory flight with Reka.”
He could sense his mother’s surprise, and saw her cast another look at Merletta’s warm skin. “Just how long was this exploratory flight? Are you from the South Lands?” she asked, naming the continent three weeks’ voyage south of Valoria.
Merletta swallowed. “My home is further south,” she said. Her tone made it sound like she was acknowledging the duchess’s words, but Heath could tell she was speaking very carefully, trying not to activate his father’s abilities. “I hope we don’t impose.”
“Of course not,” Heath’s mother said, her hostess instincts kicking in. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you wish.” She turned to the maid, who was hovering near the doorway. “Have two rooms prepared for our guests.”
“And did you also meet Heath on this exploratory trip?” The duke’s quiet question was directed at August.
“No, Sir,” said the guard staunchly, his posture straight as he met the other man’s eyes.