Page 10 of Twelfth Night Sorcery (The Cambion Club #2)

“Thank you, ah—?” She arched her eyebrows. She had met him last night, but she could not remember his name.

“Preston, madam.”

“Thank you, Preston,” she said, relieved that she knew at least one of the servants in the household. “Is there by any chance a footman who can run errands for me?” She did not particularly want to go out in public in this dress. It had not been designed for winter weather.

“I am afraid there is no footman, but either the errand boy, Buttons, or one of the housemaids would be happy to help you.” He gestured to the bell-pull in one corner of the room. “You have only to ring and someone will attend you. Or I can carry a message.”

“Excellent.” Privately, though, she wondered if the errand boy’s name was really Buttons. And if not, why did they call him that? “If you could send a maid in to speak to me, that would do very well.”

She could at least order a toothbrush and toothpowder, not to mention soap and other toiletries. She had not brought so much as a hairbrush with her when she fled. And, she remembered, she ought to send a note to the modiste her mother used on the rare occasions when Lady Grantly came to town.

After Preston left, she peered inside the purse—and promptly gasped.

She counted twenty sovereigns, which ought to be more than sufficient for all her needs.

While she waited for the maid, she tore a scrap of paper from one of the notebooks on the work table and jotted down her request for Madame Aubert.

Honora fortunately remembered most of her dress measurements.

She requested a walking dress, a morning dress, and an evening gown to begin with.

And, of course, she would need underthings.

She sighed, hoping her mother would ship her possessions to her quickly.

She did not want to go through the trouble or the expense of replacing her entire wardrobe.

She had expected to be left in boredom once she sent off the note, but to her surprise, Mr. Carrington called her into the dining room with a question about wall coverings.

“My sister suggested we strip all the paneling and paper the walls instead,” Mr. Carrington explained. “But she didn’t say what color wallpaper. Or what pattern.”

“Er, couldn’t you wait and ask her when she gets back?”

Honora turned around in a circle, studying the room.

It would have been a comfortable room if not for the fire damage.

The room reeked of smoke, and some of the wooden paneling had been blackened.

On top of that, a burn mark ran the entire length of the table.

She longed to know what exactly had gone wrong with the spell, but was afraid to ask.

She hoped Mr. Carrington did not often have such accidents.

Mr. Carrington pursed his lips. “I don’t think Abby will come back until the room is set to rights. That’s what she said.”

“Oh.” Honora could understand that. But she thought it rather courageous of Miss Carrington to leave her brother in charge of redecorating the room. She would not have trusted her brother with such a task. Then again, Jack was only ten. “What sort of things does Miss Carrington like?”

Her new housemate shrugged. “She likes pretty things from nature. You know, flowers, leaves, seashells, birds, lizards, and what-not.”

Lizards? That was not particularly helpful. Or was it? “What about a green wallpaper,” Honora suggested, “in a fern pattern?” Botanical patterns were quite popular, so it should be easy to find something like that. And green was a soothing, restful color.

“Oh, that could work. Thank you.” Mr. Carrington smiled broadly. He was not as handsome as Lord Valance, but she liked the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. “We shall have to replace the table too, I suppose.”

“I expect so,” Honora agreed. It seemed rather a shame, as the table had been a stately, well-made one, made of mahogany. “And anything you keep will need to be cleaned, to get rid of the smell of smoke.” If that was possible.

His face brightened. “Oh, I might have a spell that could help. It’s an air purification charm that I invented to keep Susan’s room free of smoke and dust. She has rather delicate lungs.”

“That sounds helpful.” At least, it would be helpful if it worked and did not cause a fire or a mess. But Honora’s admittedly limited experience had, so far, led her to mistrust Mr. Carrington’s spells.

“Do you want to watch me cast it?” he offered.

“No, thank you,” she said quickly. His face promptly fell, so she smiled apologetically. “I’m afraid I have many things to do today.” More to the point, she did not want to linger while he worked his potentially dangerous wizardry.

It turned out to be just as well she was free, because to her very great surprise, Madame Aubert and her assistant showed up unexpectedly, carrying books of fabric samples and, even better, two finished evening gowns that Madame thought could be altered to fit Honora.

One of them fit so well that Madame’s assistant altered the hem then and there, while Honora chose fabric for her other new gowns.

They left her with one new gown to wear and a promise that more would be available within the week.

Shortly afterwards, the maid returned with the toiletries Honora had requested.

She could finally wash, change her dress, and arrange her hair as best she could without the help of a lady’s maid.

She frowned at her face in the mirror, wishing her hair curled naturally.

Her sister Dora had raven-wing hair that hung in gorgeous curls without the use of an iron or curl paper.

Why couldn’t Honora have been born with hair like that?

She was still pondering that question when someone tapped at the door. She expected a servant bearing another message. But when she opened the door, she saw Lord Valance. His eyes widened as he scrutinized her from head to toe. She hoped she didn’t look like a quiz in her new gown.

“I am sorry to disturb you,” he said politely, “but most of my clothes are in here, and I ought to dress for dinner—”

“Oh, I am done dressing. I will leave the room to you.”

But he held up his hand to stop her from leaving. “I brought a friend of mine to dinner. A Mr. Stephens. He is an ordained clergyman, and he is willing to perform the wedding ceremony after dinner. Since we have a special license, there is no need to marry in a church.”

“I see.” Honora’s heart pounded more heavily at this news. So, this was really happening? When they had discussed the wedding a few hours ago, she had not really believed everything could come together this quickly. Maybe she simply hadn’t wanted to believe it.

“Will that be acceptable?” His Lordship clasped his hands behind his back and shifted from one foot to another, looking nervous. Probably he was not in the habit of marrying strangers, either.

Now was the time to change her mind, if she meant to do so.

Or for him to change his mind. “Are you quite sure you wish to go through with the ceremony?” When she saw his frown, Honora hurried to explain herself.

“I am very grateful to you, my lord, but you deserve better than to be married to a stranger. If you wish to back out of the engagement now, I will not think worse of you.” He was under no obligation to protect her; after all, she had been the one who tried to seduce him.

He shrugged his shoulders, still keeping his hands clasped behind his back. “You also deserve better than to be married to a stranger. Miss Grantly, if marriage to me is unappealing, you have only to say so, and we will find some other solution. Somehow.”

His scowl changed his entire face. Normally he had a pleasant, friendly face. Now he looked a little like a grumpy bulldog, minus the jowls. And the underbite. And wrinkles. And fur. And—actually, Honora decided, perhaps it wasn’t a good comparison at all.

“But I still believe this is the best course of action for both of us. If, that is, you have no insurmountable objection to me as a husband.” He met her gaze steadily as he spoke.

It was impossible to object to someone if you knew nothing about him, Honora thought. But she said only, “I have no such objection, my lord.”

“You honor me,” he said solemnly.

She bit her lip to keep from smiling at the obvious falsehood. She would have honored him better by not involving him in her ruination. “On the contrary, my lord, I am grateful for your generosity.” She very much feared he would come to regret it.