Illusions of Fate
Page 34
“There! I can’t fix the whole country, and it will only last a few days, but I present you with the sun, on behalf of my dreadfully boring magic.”
He bows low, holding out his hand. I reach out tentatively, afraid of being burned, but the globe merely hovers above my hand where I slide it on top of Finn’s. It’s golden and deliciously warm and instantly makes me happier and more at ease than I’ve been in weeks.
I laugh, delighted, and by the look on Finn’s face you’d think I was the one who had given him an absurd and wonderful gift.
Eighteen
TWO DAYS LATER, I SIT IN ELEANOR’S PARLOR drinking the sourest lemonade in the history of liquids. The birds have not followed me here. Neither has Finn, for once.
“Sorry,” Eleanor says. “I am afraid Mrs. Jenkins is at a loss for what to serve to someone who dislikes tea. She’s not good at improvisation.”
“It’s very fresh.” My voice squeezes out from my tortured throat.
“I am glad you stopped by, though! I have so much news.”
“I had to figure out somewhere Finn—” When I use his first name, Eleanor’s eyebrows raise slyly, and I realize I’ve given her more gossip. “Lord Ackerly wouldn’t come. He’s been like a shadow.” I pause, “Well. I mean less literally, of course. He waits outside the hotel when I leave in the morning, no matter which part I try to sneak out of. He haunts the library, insists on walking me through the park, joins me for every meal.”
Eleanor stirs her third heaping spoonful of sugar into her tea, a dreamy smile on her face. “That’s wonderful.”
“No, it’s not! He’s hovering.” Not that he’s not good company, it’s just that I have no say in the matter. I glare at my shadow, though I know he can only be either listening or watching. He assures me he does neither.
“You should hear what Arabella Crawford had to say when she heard that he’d shadowed you. You’ll remember her from the gala—encased in her shiny, black dress like a sausage?”
A note of panic sounds in my ears. “How did she hear?”
“I told her, of course.”
“But Finn threatened you! Oh, no. I’ll forbid him from cursing you, but I can’t say how much he’ll listen.” After Hugh missed two important exams, I asked Finn to remove the curse early. He felt I was entirely too forgiving, but when I heard Hugh crying softly in his carrel I couldn’t help but relent.
Eleanor laughs. “Silly girl. Self-preservation is a skill of mine. I would never cross Lord Ackerly. At least not in a way he’s likely to discover. No, he told me to tell.”
“He what?”
“The morning after that horrid business with Lord Downpike, your Finn came for a visit and asked if I would please tell everyone I could possibly think of that he had shadowed you. I was to spread it like the gossip of the season, which was no great task, because it is.”
“But—I thought he—well, the night of the gala, he only spoke to me in secret. And the past two days we have gone nowhere where your crowd would see us. I assumed he was . . .”
“Ashamed?”
Blushing, I nod.
“If he is, he has an odd way of showing it. There isn’t a cousin-of-a-cousin-of-a-noble that has not heard about it now.”
I don’t know what to do with this information. The way he has been acting, and now to so openly claim me . . . but why spread the word among people whom I don’t know? Why not talk to me about it? Perhaps it is a step on the way to regaining his shadow.
That’s what I want, of course. To be rid of my involvement in the entire matter. Whatever political tension there is here, whatever designs Albion has on the Iverian continent, it’s nothing to do with me.
My eyes flick to my shadow, and I realize I cannot remember exactly how it looked before the edges were blurred.
Eleanor continues chatting about the various stunned and devastated reactions among eligible girls who had long been pining after untouchable Lord Ackerly, obviously taking great pleasure in their dismay.
“Oh, that reminds me, I’ve been clearing out my wardrobe and I came across another dress I thought you might like. I’ll have it sent to your room at the Grande Sylvie.”
I nod dumbly. “Thank you. You’ve been so kind.”
She laughs, a private smile on her face. “Yes, I am very kind.”
That evening after she has lent me her carriage for the ride back to the hotel, I find a letter from Mama. I also find Sir Bird with a note from Finn. Apparently, Sir Bird has been rebelling against book form, and taken to chasing Finn around his library, pecking at his hands. Finn thought some time apart would be good for both of them, so long as I do not take Sir Bird out without him.
I laugh, picturing Sir Bird terrorizing stately Finn. “Good boy,” I murmur, emptying my pockets of brass buttons and coins I’ve been collecting, and Sir Bird caws contentedly as he begins sorting them.
I sit on the brushed-velvet chaise longue. The room is wonderful, I will admit that, but I feel false staying in it and insist on taking care of my own linens and cleaning. The bright side is giving Ma’ati extra free time, but a large part of this is an effort to avoid the ire of the chambermaids, who whisper poisonous things.
“You’ve put me in an impossible situation,” I say to my shadow. “I had a hard enough time fitting in with my peers before. Now I am neither here nor there with any class. It is very inconsiderate of you.” I pause. “While I am thinking of it, your tie yesterday was ghastly. You shouldn’t wear brown. I much prefer the blue one. And stay out of my room.”
He bows low, holding out his hand. I reach out tentatively, afraid of being burned, but the globe merely hovers above my hand where I slide it on top of Finn’s. It’s golden and deliciously warm and instantly makes me happier and more at ease than I’ve been in weeks.
I laugh, delighted, and by the look on Finn’s face you’d think I was the one who had given him an absurd and wonderful gift.
Eighteen
TWO DAYS LATER, I SIT IN ELEANOR’S PARLOR drinking the sourest lemonade in the history of liquids. The birds have not followed me here. Neither has Finn, for once.
“Sorry,” Eleanor says. “I am afraid Mrs. Jenkins is at a loss for what to serve to someone who dislikes tea. She’s not good at improvisation.”
“It’s very fresh.” My voice squeezes out from my tortured throat.
“I am glad you stopped by, though! I have so much news.”
“I had to figure out somewhere Finn—” When I use his first name, Eleanor’s eyebrows raise slyly, and I realize I’ve given her more gossip. “Lord Ackerly wouldn’t come. He’s been like a shadow.” I pause, “Well. I mean less literally, of course. He waits outside the hotel when I leave in the morning, no matter which part I try to sneak out of. He haunts the library, insists on walking me through the park, joins me for every meal.”
Eleanor stirs her third heaping spoonful of sugar into her tea, a dreamy smile on her face. “That’s wonderful.”
“No, it’s not! He’s hovering.” Not that he’s not good company, it’s just that I have no say in the matter. I glare at my shadow, though I know he can only be either listening or watching. He assures me he does neither.
“You should hear what Arabella Crawford had to say when she heard that he’d shadowed you. You’ll remember her from the gala—encased in her shiny, black dress like a sausage?”
A note of panic sounds in my ears. “How did she hear?”
“I told her, of course.”
“But Finn threatened you! Oh, no. I’ll forbid him from cursing you, but I can’t say how much he’ll listen.” After Hugh missed two important exams, I asked Finn to remove the curse early. He felt I was entirely too forgiving, but when I heard Hugh crying softly in his carrel I couldn’t help but relent.
Eleanor laughs. “Silly girl. Self-preservation is a skill of mine. I would never cross Lord Ackerly. At least not in a way he’s likely to discover. No, he told me to tell.”
“He what?”
“The morning after that horrid business with Lord Downpike, your Finn came for a visit and asked if I would please tell everyone I could possibly think of that he had shadowed you. I was to spread it like the gossip of the season, which was no great task, because it is.”
“But—I thought he—well, the night of the gala, he only spoke to me in secret. And the past two days we have gone nowhere where your crowd would see us. I assumed he was . . .”
“Ashamed?”
Blushing, I nod.
“If he is, he has an odd way of showing it. There isn’t a cousin-of-a-cousin-of-a-noble that has not heard about it now.”
I don’t know what to do with this information. The way he has been acting, and now to so openly claim me . . . but why spread the word among people whom I don’t know? Why not talk to me about it? Perhaps it is a step on the way to regaining his shadow.
That’s what I want, of course. To be rid of my involvement in the entire matter. Whatever political tension there is here, whatever designs Albion has on the Iverian continent, it’s nothing to do with me.
My eyes flick to my shadow, and I realize I cannot remember exactly how it looked before the edges were blurred.
Eleanor continues chatting about the various stunned and devastated reactions among eligible girls who had long been pining after untouchable Lord Ackerly, obviously taking great pleasure in their dismay.
“Oh, that reminds me, I’ve been clearing out my wardrobe and I came across another dress I thought you might like. I’ll have it sent to your room at the Grande Sylvie.”
I nod dumbly. “Thank you. You’ve been so kind.”
She laughs, a private smile on her face. “Yes, I am very kind.”
That evening after she has lent me her carriage for the ride back to the hotel, I find a letter from Mama. I also find Sir Bird with a note from Finn. Apparently, Sir Bird has been rebelling against book form, and taken to chasing Finn around his library, pecking at his hands. Finn thought some time apart would be good for both of them, so long as I do not take Sir Bird out without him.
I laugh, picturing Sir Bird terrorizing stately Finn. “Good boy,” I murmur, emptying my pockets of brass buttons and coins I’ve been collecting, and Sir Bird caws contentedly as he begins sorting them.
I sit on the brushed-velvet chaise longue. The room is wonderful, I will admit that, but I feel false staying in it and insist on taking care of my own linens and cleaning. The bright side is giving Ma’ati extra free time, but a large part of this is an effort to avoid the ire of the chambermaids, who whisper poisonous things.
“You’ve put me in an impossible situation,” I say to my shadow. “I had a hard enough time fitting in with my peers before. Now I am neither here nor there with any class. It is very inconsiderate of you.” I pause. “While I am thinking of it, your tie yesterday was ghastly. You shouldn’t wear brown. I much prefer the blue one. And stay out of my room.”
