I wondered, idly, how Marlene intended to keep up her appearances. Sooner or later, someone would ask questions. Wouldn’t they? They’d certainly wonder why Marlene was helping me. It might be seen as her helping a friend - I’d met my fair share of parents who appeared to believe that going to school together meant you were best friends - but that wouldn’t last forever. I felt a twinge of pity, despite everything Marlene had done. The secret had to overshadow her mind, mocking her every waking moment. She knew she would be exposed, sooner or later. There was no fury like a Grande Dame who’d been fooled into accepting a commoner as an equal.
And I can do her at least one favour, I thought, as the guests started to trail into the hall. The party wasn’t that important, according to the organisers. I recognised a number of famous faces, but most of the high-ranking aristocrats seemed to have stayed away. I can warn her that someone knows.
I kept the thought to myself as Ayesha and Zeya McDonald walked up the stairs and into the hall. Ayesha was wrapped in so many glamour spells I knew she hadn’t been sleeping. Zeya, beside her, seemed cool and collected. Did she know the truth? Or had Ayesha decided not to tell her sister what had happened? I wasn’t sure what I would have done, if I’d been in her place. Zeya was her sister, and they seemed to get on pretty well, but they couldn’t both be Matriarch. Zeya might just betray her sister, just to ensure she won by default. I didn’t know if Ayesha would take the chance.
“I need to talk to you later,” I said to Marlene, as the dance band struck up a tune. Or something they claimed was a tune. It sounded more like a flurry of random notes held together by ... by something. Angry cats fighting with dogs would sound better. “Can you come to Room Seven in an hour?”
“Of course.” Marlene looked puzzled, but not alarmed. She had no reason to think I knew anything. “I’ll be there.”
I nodded and left her to welcome the guests, the ones who were on the verge of moving from being fashionably late to unbearably rude. The party was supposed to be a little lax, but still ... there were limits. I smiled to myself as I moved from group to group, trying not to eavesdrop. The temptation was strong, but I resisted. I spotted Ayesha and Zeya dancing with their prospective husbands and shuddered. They didn’t deserve to have their lives torn apart by Malachi. Maybe Ayesha deserved some punishment. She’d done something incredibly reckless. But she didn’t deserve that.
You’re one to talk, I thought, sourly. You did something dangerously reckless, too.
I wandered the room, exchanging a handful of greetings. The absence of the Grande Dames ensured the younger generation could speak freely. I wasn’t surprised to see a handful of couples heading for the private rooms. Marlene was already heading towards one, alone ... I felt another twinge of pity as I joined her. She’d never be able to keep the deception going indefinitely. The best she could hope for was an apprenticeship, if she didn’t want to go into service. I didn’t think her marks were good enough. Marlene was far from stupid, but Kate left her in the dust.
“Lucy.” Marlene turned to face me as I closed the door. “We shouldn’t be meeting like this. People will talk.”
“Probably,” I said. “But it doesn’t really matter, does it?”
I hesitated, unsure how to proceed. “Marlene ... are you really an aristocrat?”
Marlene wavered. For a moment, I thought she was going to fall down. “I ... Lucy, whatever do you mean?”
“You heard me,” I said. It no longer felt good to twist the knife. “Are you really an aristocrat?”
“I ...” Marlene sat down, hard. “Does it matter?”
“Not to me,” I said. I was surprised to discover it was actually true. “Who are you, really?”
“Marlene, daughter of Richard and Hyacinth,” Marlene said. “I ... how did you find out?”
“In a moment,” I said. The names meant nothing to me. “How did you ...?”
Marlene looked at the floor. “Lucy ... my parents work for House Bouquet. Dad ... my mother did the lady of the house a vast favour. She repaid it by funding my education and ... and a few other things. I ... I just ran with it. I couldn’t bear to be a commoner amongst aristocrats.”
“You already knew a bunch of aristocratic spells,” I said. “How did you learn?”
“I took lessons with the other kids,” Marlene said. “They taught me and ... I learnt to be like them. How did you find out?”
I stared at her, the six years of hatred and disdain melting away. Marlene had lived a lie. She’d spent every one of those six years knowing she could be exposed at any moment. I supposed it explained why she’d declined to let us take her to her door. She was a servant’s daughter. She’d be expected to use the servant’s entrance. Her secret could have been revealed in a heartbeat.
“You were Head Girl,” I said. “How did that happen?”
“Mistress Grayling believed I was a natural-born child,” Marlene said. “And she wanted favours from my parents. How did you find out?”
I hesitated, unsure how to answer. I didn’t want to tell her about Malachi. At the same time, I had to warn her that her secret might be exposed at any moment ... I snorted to myself. Marlene already knew her secret might be exposed. She was no foreign visitor whose credentials could never be checked thoroughly, at least without more effort than most people would care to spend. It wouldn’t be hard to check Marlene’s background. I was pretty sure House Bouquet had never added her to their rolls. In hindsight, why had Malachi looked into it? Because of me?
“A couple of questions were asked,” I said, finally. I didn’t want to go into details. “In confidence.”
“In confidence,” Marlene repeated. “Are they ... are they likely to tell anyone else?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “How ... how long do you think you can keep this up?”
Marlene shook her head, slowly. When she spoke, her voice was so quiet I had to strain to hear her. “What else can I do?”
“You have reasonable marks.” I felt another twinge of sympathy. Raised in a Great House, educated with the aristocracy ... and yet, not an aristocrat herself? Marlene would be forever caught between two worlds, neither wholly one nor the other. “You could get an apprenticeship ...”
Marlene snorted. “My marks aren’t good enough and you know it.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Marlene, what are you going to do?”
She moved forward, kneeling before me. “Lucy ... I’ll do anything. Just ... just don’t tell anyone.”
“Get up,” I snapped. I wasn’t going to feed the thrill. Not now. I’d learnt my lesson. “Now.”
Marlene stumbled to her feet. I wondered, as she steadied herself, what she could do. She was right; she didn’t have the marks for an apprenticeship. She probably didn’t have the connections to set herself up somewhere fashionable ... although, if her master and mistress had been willing to hint she might have a blood tie to their family, they might shell out the cash for her to buy and operate a shop. What else could she do? Go into service, and give up her dreams of being anything more than a servant? Or find a wealthy man and become a mistress? I didn’t know and I didn’t really care. I had worse problems now. The days I’d dreamed of bringing her to her knees, of winning a final crushing victory, were long gone.
“I don’t want anything from you,” I said. “And ... I understand precisely how you felt. How you feel. I won’t tell anyone. But others are starting to take an interest in you.”
I let her draw her own conclusions as she fixed her face. She was a young girl of marriageable age, with a presumed blood tie to House Bouquet. The Grande Dames would be sniffing to determine her prospects soon, if they weren’t already. Perhaps that was why Malachi had taken an interest in Marlene. He certainly had the connections to ferret out any embarrassing issues before they became a political nightmare. Perhaps it hadn’t been my fault after all. She might never have known anyone was taking an interest, if they’d backed off before they could make anything more than polite inquires.
> “You won’t tell anyone?” Marlene met my eyes. “Really?”
“I won’t,” I said. It was just another secret. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I’ll do something for you,” Marlene insisted. “You only have to ask.”
I nodded, gravely. “If I need anything, I will ask,” I said. A thought crossed my mind. “You can help with the rest of the summer parties, if you like.”
“I will.” Marlene nodded, so quickly her hair spilled over her face. “Lucy ... I’m sorry.”
“We were stupid schoolgirls,” I said. It would probably be a bad idea to ask precisely what she was sorry for. She’d played a lot of cruel pranks on me ... I’d played a lot of cruel pranks on her. We’d probably deserved to spend a month on our hands and knees, scrubbing the floors after a prank had gone particularly bad. The books said it would make us friends. Reality said something different. “We’re adults now.”
Marlene snorted. “Have you ever thought that most of High Society is composed of overgrown schoolchildren, intent on continuing petty little feuds that started so long ago that no one really knows why they really started?”
“The thought has crossed my mind,” I said, dryly. “You be careful, alright?”
I watched her brush her hair back over her shoulders, then turn and leave the room. She’d remain composed, I was sure. I’d seen her shrug off shocks ... this one, at least, had been relatively contained. She had no reason to trust me to keep my word, but the mere fact I’d come to her - instead of landing her in the cesspit - spoke in my favour. I wondered what she’d do, when she went home. Where would she go? Who knew? There were supposed to be all sorts of opportunities in the minor cities and towns.
I felt flushed. I cooled myself with a spell, then returned to the ballroom to stroll for a few minutes before I sent for Jadish. Malachi might want to see my memories, again. I had no idea how his device worked, but I couldn’t afford gaps in my memories or glitches that might suggest a fake. Gary had warned as much. His theory had included a lot of theoretical babble I hadn’t been able to follow - he was far ahead of me in charms - but he’d made it clear that a fake memory would lack the impact of a real memory. It would be as bland and boring as reading a piece of text from a page.
Jadish took her orders with a nod - she’d been keeping more of an eye on me recently, hopefully out of concern - and hurried off to do my bidding. I returned to the room, feeling cold. There was no way to avoid doing Malachi’s bidding, damn it. I’d have to tighten the screws on Ayesha and hope she didn’t do something desperate before I got out from under his thumb. I sat down and waited, wondering if my luck was about to run out. The thought made me smile. My luck had run out weeks ago. If only I’d quit while I was ahead.
Ayesha entered, closing the door behind her. “What do you want?”
I winced. Her tone was so sullen it would have earned her a detention, or worse, at Grayling’s. Jude’s was supposed to be more progressive, probably because the majority of the parents lived in the same city and could be contacted at any moment. And the students didn’t feel as though they’d been sent into exile. I put the thought aside, all too aware that Malachi would have humiliated Ayesha for being rude to him. I wasn’t going to do that.
What does it matter? My thoughts mocked me, again and again. You’re already blackmailing her.
“How are you?” I tried to keep my tone level. “It’s been a week.”
Ayesha glared at me, her eyes lingering on my throat. I held myself still, readying a spell. Ayesha was hardly a weak magician. She’d gotten lucky, when she’d hit Akin with the kissing curse, but ... she wouldn’t have made it through Jude’s without being very good at magic. And her family probably had a few secrets it had never shared with the rest of the aristocracy. She might be a dangerously powerful - and unpredictable - opponent.
“Spare me the fancy words and small talk,” she said, finally. She sounded as though she wanted to call me every name in the book. “What do you want?”
I controlled my temper with an effort. “I want you to find out what your father is planning to invest in,” I said. I recalled the office I’d raided and shivered. Ayesha would have a far better chance than me of finding something useful. And ... the spy, the spy in her house, might keep an eye on her. “And let me know in two weeks.”
Ayesha wilted. “Lucy ... please ...”
“You can do it,” I said. I wanted to reach out to her, to try to reassure her. I couldn’t. Not yet. “I’m sure you can find something, even something small.”
She glared at me, muttering a word I barely caught. It didn’t sound pleasant. I wondered, once again, if she’d swallow her pride and go to her father. House McDonald could make atonement to House Rubén, then turn on me. Ayesha wouldn’t have much to look forward to - she’d probably be sent into exile, just like Isabella Rubén - but she’d be better off than me. I’d be killed, or worse. I made a mental note to write a full account of what had happened, for delivery to the great and the good if I died. I might as well try to take Malachi down with me.
“I can give you money,” Ayesha pleaded. She looked as if she was on the verge of dropping to her knees. “I have bags of money. I can give you a thousand. Two thousand!”
I shook my head. Malachi had left the money with me. He hadn’t cared enough to count it, let alone take it. I wasn’t sure if it was a bribe or a reward or ... just another sickening incentive to throw myself in with him. I’d promised myself I’d give it back to Ayesha, when this was all over ... if it ever was over. I had no idea how long it would be before I could get the drop on Malachi or I snapped and fled the city.
If that happens, I’ll probably need the money, I thought. Returning the cash would be the last of my worries. A thousand crowns would go a long way in a small town.
“Fine.” Ayesha stood and glared. Two red spots burned on her cheeks. “And that’s the end. That’s all I’ll do for you. Understand?”
“Yes.” I had my doubts. Malachi would want me to keep twisting the screws. Maybe he wouldn’t take her seriously. Or maybe he’d want her to admit to her failings. I was sure, now, he got his kicks by watching aristocrats crawl. “I understand.”
I watched her turn and storm out, banging the door behind her. My stomach was churning helplessly. I wanted to throw up, again. I wanted to ... I wasn’t sure what. I wanted - needed - to beat Malachi before it was too late. And yet, the more I compromised myself ...
It doesn’t matter, I told myself, as I stood and brushed down my dress. I got myself into this mess. I have to get myself out of it.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“Welcome to my domain,” Gary said, as he opened the door. “What do you make of it?”
I smiled, peering into the workshop. It was just as disorganised as any practical handwork classroom at Grayling’s - desks and chairs were scattered everywhere, the former piled high with everything from scraps of wood to expensive gems and metallic strips - but there was a very definite warmth to the workshop my classrooms had lacked. I felt my smile grow wider as I stepped into the room, breathing in the magic-scented air. It was no office, no formal meeting room or clerical pool. The workshop was a place where people actually did things, made things.
Gary closed the door behind us. “What do you think?”
“It looks wonderful,” I said, honestly. “What happened to your master?”
“He’s gone on holiday for a couple of days,” Gary said. “I think the stress of tutoring me is getting to him.”
“You’re a terrible apprentice?” I grinned, silently relieved we wouldn’t be chaperoned. “You can’t be that bad.”
“He says he never wants another student like me,” Gary said, all mock-innocence. “I don’t have the slightest idea why.”
I laughed as I circled the room. The walls were covered with paper charts, some diagramming out pieces of spellware, others listing the uses and abuses of certain spells, potions, metals and gems. They were admiringly comprehensi
ve, completely up to date. The school’s textbooks had always been two or more years out of date, something that had bothered Kate and her peers more than me. In hindsight, that had been a mistake. If I’d taken on an apprenticeship, I might never have tried to save my family from destruction.
“I work there, when I’m not studying with him,” Gary said, pointing to a slightly isolated desk. It looked a little smaller than the others - and I had the impression it was cheaper, ensuring it could be easily replaced - but otherwise it was practically identical. Someone had carved a whole string of runes into the wood, ranging from basic protective charms that had long since been drained of power to rude sigils I was surprised hadn’t been wiped away by the workshop’s master. “I’m supposed to be graduating later this year.”
I felt my heart twist. Gary couldn’t get married, not properly, until his apprenticeship was over. We’d picked him for many different reasons, but one was that he simply couldn’t get married - or even formally engaged - at once. It was hard not to feel guilty as he led me into a comfortable sitting room, so delightfully shabby that I knew there was nothing pretentious about it. The wards hummed, but made no objection to my presence. Gary’s master either trusted him completely or ... or simply didn’t care who he brought to the workshop. It wasn’t uncommon for apprentices to show off to their parents and families.
The Lady Heiress (The Zero Enigma Book 8) Page 30
