He frowned. “We have a black lace mask that will cover you to the jawline and only leave your mouth exposed.”

  She pursed her lips. “Where did you get said mask?”

  Dexter shrugged. “No idea, but I think it was left over from the Halloween masquerade.”

  Orla cocked her head. “I can wear a cloak?”

  “Sure. Lugh said he would set you up in full costume.”

  “Of course, he would. He loves me in thigh-high boots.” She muttered.

  Dexter grinned then laughed at what must have been a grim expression. “I am sorry, but this is hilarious. You are the last woman I would have guessed would have ended with one of the kings of Underhill. You are so contained and buttoned-down.”

  “I didn’t even believe in Underhill until I was there. So, yeah, I was the last woman. The first two were duds. Apparently, you need ancient fey blood in your veins to qualify.”

  Dexter blinked. “You have ancestry?”

  She wrinkled her nose and shrugged. “That is what I have been told.”

  He whispered, “So, your ears—”

  She waved her hands at him. “Shut up about the ears!”

  He whistled. “Right, so if you are masked, you will do it?”

  She sighed and checked her watch. “How long do I have to get ready?”

  Lugh’s voice came through the speaker. “You will need to remain where you are. The horses and I are on our way in. We are getting ready in the tent out back.”

  She turned a vivid crimson and went over the conversation in her head before she answered. “What tent?”

  Dexter grinned. “When the idea was floated of actual horses at the event, Mr. Fall was kind enough to offer to bring two of his horses in for the event.”

  “How kind of him.”

  Lugh chuckled via the phone. “We are twenty minutes out. See you soon, beloved.”

  She groaned as the connection clicked.

  Dexter smirked. “Sorry, but this is hilarious. The kings are so entrenched in their roles that I never imagined what kind of woman would be able to work with that. Autumn is known to be a workaholic, so your presence is making him relax a little.”

  She flipped him off and looked at him. “Which lawn has the tent?”

  “South lawn. You are actually going to do it?”

  She grimaced. “If I don’t, he is going to ride the damned horse through the museum.”

  She got her coat on, kept her ID badge with her, and left the labyrinth of the halls. She saw him every night, but the thought of seeing him in his fancy elf clothing made her stomach flip.

  There were two tents in the back, not just one. She waited until the truck with the horse trailer pulled into the parking area, and she went to meet them.

  The mare was excited to see her and bouncing in the carrier.

  Lugh came around, kissed her, and said, “You might want to stand back.”

  He unlatched the hauler, dropped the ramp, and the mare came to her directly. It was Friday, which meant that Orla hadn’t had a chance to go riding since Sunday. The mare wanted to go out riding with her every day.

  “Hey, madam. So, you are in the city today. Pretty weird, huh?”

  She stroked the horse, and Lugh got the stallion out of the box. They headed toward the tents, and he grinned. “They managed two of them, after all.”

  “Two tents?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why the divide?”

  “You will see. Let’s get the horses sorted first. They require more focus.”

  She glanced over at the building, and shadows were beginning to move inside the building. “What is our schedule?”

  He smiled. “We have twenty minutes to get ourselves and the horses ready.”

  “Great, so I am going to have two minutes to get used to the side saddle?”

  “Don’t worry. We are not going to be doing our normal sprints. But, she knows what to do, and she won’t let you fall. Bonds of motherhood.”

  He smiled and spoke softly to the stallion, and the tack began to take shape. Harnesses, straps, buckles, the saddle, everything was heavily embossed, gilded, and spectacular.

  There were swags of silk, colourful panels that were all decorated for the autumn king. This was gonna look cool.

  He smiled. “Now, off to the other tent with you two. Your transformations will occur in time. Just don’t panic when it starts. It is trickier to do when I am not looking at you.”

  Orla shook her head at the weird ritual and walked to the second tent with the mare.

  They settled in with the hay, and soon, the change came over the mare’s appearance. She was spectacularly lovely, covered in the same autumn-coloured swaths of silk.

  The first thing to go was Orla’s clothing. A silk slip covered her from head to toe, barely hanging onto her shoulders and clinging to her on the way down to her ankles.

  The rest of the gauzy layers were floaty and light, held down only by the damask silk outer layer with the heavy stomacher that would hold her upright. She heard a call through the tent walls. “Put on the makeup yourself.”

  She snorted and put on the makeup so that she would have a heavy lid, the lace mask came up, and the lipstick was next.

  When her lipstick and makeup was set, the mirror disappeared.

  She felt things tightening and loosening on the gown, the cloak appeared on her shoulders, and there was a heavy coronet that was settled on her head.

  “It’s time. Mount up.”

  She got on the mare’s back, facing the entrance, which got higher, and she and the mare waited.

  The announcer spoke about the equestrian traditions held over the world, but now, they would get to see some of the pieces in action.

  “It is my pleasure to announce the autumn king!”

  The thunder of hooves went past the tent, and the mare fidgeted.

  Orla kept her balance on the side-saddle, and then, the announcement rang out, “And he would be nothing without his autumn queen.”

  They moved forward and saw Lugh as the focus of flash photography. She walked slowly to the crowd and stood at the side of her handfasted husband.

  Dexter smiled. “Autumn King, do you take Orla Aberlan as your queen to have and to hold as long as you both shall live?”

  Lugh looked over at her. “I do.”

  “Autumn Queen, do you take Lugh Fall as your king to have and to hold as long as you both shall live?”

  She looked at the sneaky bugger that she was marrying. “I do.”

  “Then, with the temporary license vested in me, I pronounce you man and wife by the laws of this land.”

  Lugh growled at him.

  “Oh. You may kiss the bride.”

  The mare sidled up to the stallion, and Lugh reached out to pull her across his lap. Their kiss was intense, public; there was a lot of photography and applause.

  She touched his face and smiled. “You got your public wedding.”

  “And you got your mask. I don’t think anyone recognized you.”

  She groaned. “You are not funny.”

  “I know. So, now we can dance at the gala?”

  “Like this?” She plucked at the layers of silk.

  “Why not? It is lovely.”

  “On a horse. It is lovely on a horse. On foot, it is difficult to move in.”

  He smiled. “Shall we take a quick lap of the event, and then, you can change?”

  “You are not going to?”

  “My clothing is very comfortable.” He grinned. “One photo with us dressed like this, and then, we can join the party.”

  She knew what he was going to say. “But no mask.”

  The ribbon behind her head unravelled, and he took the mask off. “There you are, Autumn Queen.”

  She chuckled and gestured to the mare. “Let me back on my horse, and we can race around the yard.”

  “What are the stakes?” He smiled, and he helped her settle.

  “Whatever you like. Your choice if you win.”

  He grinned. “What do you get if I win?”

  She picked up the reins. “I get you enjoying your win. Either way, I come out on top. I mean... eventually. If I win, I get to name the kid.”

  He laughed, and they got Dexter’s cooperation to start the race. The patrons were having a good time and got out of the way as the horses lined up. She made sure that she was as settled in the saddle as she could be, and then, Dexter and the crowd shouted, “Three... two... one...” the handkerchief came down, and she took off.

  She felt the silks billowing around her as they raced around the grounds and headed back for the crowd. He pulled into first, and she stroked the mare’s neck as they pulled ahead by a nose.

  They cantered to a halt, and she grinned as they returned to the gathering.

  Dexter swallowed and gave her an apologetic look. “A better tie I have never seen.”

  She glared at him and slid down from the mare. “We are going to have a chat about that.”

  The autumn king wrapped his arm around her waist. “I look forward to negotiating details of the wins.”

  She laughed, and one of the guys from the farm came to take the horses. Stigaan took them to the pools of light that were being cast across the rear stone-covered space. Their photo was taken of them standing side by side; then, Lugh turned her, pulled her against him, then he carefully held her jaw and kissed her.

  After the kiss, she murmured, “You are going to sell these for cover shots as well.”

  He grinned. “And to anyone who has a silk fetish.”

  She chuckled. “With a distinct lack of underwear... again.”

  “I am taking you as you come.”

  “So, in the shower with my hands on the tile?” She smiled brightly.

  He pulled her snugly against him. “That is a very mean thing to do with several hours looming before us at this party.”

  She nodded. “I know.”

  He picked up her left hand and kissed her hand. “If you are uncomfortable, I will assist you in taking on a more contemporary look.”

  “Thank you.”

  They walked back to the tent she had changed in, and the moment they were behind the flap, he lifted her in his arms, and she wrapped her thighs around him.

  She looked at him with a smile. “Can you deal with silence?”

  “For this moment. I can.” He murmured, “But I expect an exchange for my cooperation later.”

  He got her skirts out of the way and slid into her with a groan. She shivered and bucked against him when he was fully inside her, and then, he lifted and lowered her hard and fast until she did it again. His groan was low and in her ear. She inhaled at the flex and throb inside her.

  He murmured against her neck. “I don’t want to put you down.”

  “I don’t want to be a downer, but there is a party out there, and they are expecting us to emerge in some kind of formal wear.”

  She smiled, and with a bit of effort, they uncoupled. She tidied up, and then, he provided her with a black velvet gown trimmed in gold ribbon. She touched her head. “I still have the crown on.”

  “It looks so good on you.”

  She looked at his crown and chuckled. “I still haven’t seen you with your hair down, and you have been playing dress-up with me for weeks.”

  “You are going to have to win one of our challenges for that and make it your prize.”

  Orla grumbled. “I did not know that seeing you as you come was a prize worth requesting. After all, I give myself freely.” She smiled as he blushed.

  “Remind me later tonight. I promise to release it.”

  He sighed regretfully and removed her crown, his own crown, and his embroidered clothing faded, and he was left wearing a tuxedo that made her want to fight the tight column of her dress. The heels she was wearing were four inches if they were anything, and as they emerged from the tent, they got a polite smattering of applause.

  She found her museum ID in her cleavage, and she muttered, “Please, tell me that there isn’t anything else hidden under my gown.”

  “Well, you are wearing a corset for support, so there is that.”

  She fought the urge to look down her dress. “Anything else?”

  He laughed. “You will find out as the evening goes on.”

  They joined the group, and Dexter began the gala with an introduction of the donors and patrons. They were introduced to the researchers, and they left the area warmed by the outdoor heaters and headed into the museum.

  They took in the exhibit and the videos of the items being set on the horses. She was given a glass of champagne, and then, she left it and went for a glass of ginger ale with a cherry on it.

  Carlos murmured next to her. “I bet you think you are pretty fucking smug, sleeping with a patron for an exhibit.”

  “Carlos, you have done that very thing four times, but none of the elderly women actually married you, and they all asked me to handle their estate donations to the museum, so you must not have been any good.”

  He grabbed her by the arm and hissed at her. “Why, you bitch!” He shouted it, and she balled up her fist and gave him an uppercut that dropped him to the ground.

  The room was silent. Lugh walked over. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine. Just a little bruised.”

  Lugh looked at the bright handprint that was on her arm, and he sighed. “That is going to leave a mark.”

  Carlos was sitting up on the ground, and he grunted, “I am going to sue.”

  She looked at him and said, “Are you? You stalked me here after I went to get a non-alcoholic beverage. You verbally assaulted me, and then, you physically assaulted me. I am a newly pregnant woman. I am within my rights by every possible legal avenue for the punch. We are in an area with sixteen cameras. Do you think that there is even a chance that you weren’t caught trying to crush my arm?”

  Security grabbed him and hauled him out. He was defeated.

  Lugh sighed and massaged her arm. “This is not what I wanted for our wedding day.”

  She chuckled and muttered. “There is always a fight at a wedding. Rarely with the bride but usually a fight.”

  He took her under his arm, and the photographer took a few shots of her arm for museum insurance purposes.

  She grabbed her glass from the bar, and Lugh kept his arm around her for the rest of the night. Carlos was being charged with assault by the museum, dismissed with prejudice, and Orla could finally just go into work and not have to worry about a creep trying to wreck her career.

  Her life as a married woman started tonight, and if she played her cards right, she might see him with his hair down.

  Epilogue

  Orla stood with the mare. She wasn’t allowed up on her horse, nor could her horse wear a saddle with her own expanded midriff.

  “I am sorry you still have a couple of months to go, sweetie.” She stroked her friend’s jaw and the front of the long, elegant nose.

  The horse nudged her carefully.

  Orla nodded. “I know. I need to get back in there, but you are the only one who knows what is going on. Everybody else thinks that I am asleep.”

  The stallion wandered over, and he whinnied at an astonishing volume.

  The mare lifted a leg to kick him, but he literally squealed on her again.

  Orla heard the front door open and slam shut. She continued to stroke the mare’s nose, and she held out the last piece of apple that she had brought out.

  Lugh let out a heavy sigh. “I thought you were resting.”

  “I was. Now, I am standing in the paddock. I put boots on today.” She stuck her feet out one at a time. “Right feet and everything.”

  He patted the stallion, thanking him for the alert.

  “He’s a squealer.”

  “You are going against the midwife’s order.”

  She glared at him. “After the first eight hours of rest, I have had enough of being in labour without moving. Going for a walk was what I needed to move things along.”

  He lifted her up and walked her into the farmhouse and up to their bed. Stigaan was coming into the room with a bunch of supplies when he noted Lugh removing Orla’s footwear.

  “She got out again?”

  Orla shot him a finger. “I am not a pet or an experiment. I come and go as I please. Just a little slower nowadays.”

  Lugh stroked her head and kissed her forehead. “Yes, you do. Stigaan has just never had a new mother trying to make a run for it in labour. Normally, they settle in for the big event.”

  She growled at him. “Get me into my work nightie. Things are about to get going.”

  It was nice that her long sweater and leggings disappeared, and her comfy muslin nightgown took its place. She looked like a marshmallow that had been squeezed in weird places.

  Stigaan smiled and looked at her. “You think things are getting going?”

  “My water broke half an hour ago, so I think so.”

  Her midwife looked at her with wide eyes, gloved up, and took a look. “How were you walking around?”

  “With great effort. Ready to catch?”

  Lugh took a look, and he blinked. “It has your hair.”

  “Oh, great. Maroon for everyone.”

  She groaned, and Lugh held her, Stigaan coached her, and the new autumn heir made its way into the world by inches. Painfully stretched inches.

  When the baby was in Stigaan’s hands, Orla gasped and looked at her red and slippery daughter. “Amber.”

  Lugh chuckled, wiped his eyes, and then took the baby to place it against Orla’s skin. “Amber Fall. Princess of autumn.”

  Stigaan looked again and said, “Orla, you didn’t mention this, and I didn’t see it in any of your scans.”

  She snickered. “Lugh showed me how to use Photoshop.”

  Lugh frowned. “What is it?”

  Orla grinned. “We have another one. If I had mentioned this, Stigaan would have fought me on a home birth.”

  Stigaan watched the next one’s alignment. “Fucking right, I would.”

  Orla grunted and grinned at Lugh. “Can you take Amber? I am a little busy.”

 

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