by Bree Verity
“Heavens, Freddie, you could never be boring,” Joanna said. She turned to Caroline, a saucy twinkle in her eye. “I do apologize. What I meant to say was, there was not another man in the room that I should wish to spend thirty minutes in the sole acquaintance of… except Sir Freddie. He is a paragon amongst men.”
“Indeed,” replied Caroline, straight-faced. “I understand he is above all to be commended on every attribute of his being. But especially his humor.”
“Oh, stop,” replied Freddie indulgently. “You are putting me to the blush.”
Theo strolled over and stood next to Caroline and she was instantly warmed by his big presence. Looking up into his face and smiling, she was gratified to find him smiling back down at her.
“What are you saying, my dear, to put Freddie to the blush? It must be sordid in the extreme.”
“Oh, it was,” Joanna interjected, placing a gloved hand on Theo’s arm. “Salacious and juicy.”
“Really?”
Joanna grinned wickedly.
“No, not really.”
“Oh. I am disappointed. I thought perhaps I could add to the stock of blackmail material I hold over Freddie’s head.”
Freddie laughed. “You need not,” he replied. “You have enough dirt on me to last several lifetimes.” He turned to Caroline. “We did get up to some high jinks as young lads.”
“I should hate to think,” replied Caroline with a smile.
Then she realised who was coming up behind Freddie and the smile fell from her lips. Freddie looked surprised and turned to see who it was.
“Good evening Uncle,” Caroline said coolly as Uncle Harold pushed his way between Freddie and Lady Ridgely.
While he looked a gentleman, Caroline noticed that her uncle’s face seemed a little pinched, that the shadows under his eyes had deepened since the last time she saw him. And his clothes seemed just a tiny bit too big for him. Still, his was a face she would prefer not to have had to look at while she was at a party.
“Caroline,” he said delightedly, rubbing his hands together. “You look fine tonight.” And while she did, in a striking dark blue gown sprinkled with tiny diamonds, it was no pleasure to get the compliment from her uncle.
“Thank you,” she replied crisply. “Do you know Lady Ridgely?”
“Charmed.” He took Joanna’s outstretched hand and bowed over it. There was nothing wrong with his bow at all, but Caroline gritted her teeth all the same, waiting for him to do something awkward or uncomfortable. She did not have long to wait.
“So, Theo,” her uncle said conversationally. “I hear you have suffered recently from some – shall we say – unpleasantness?”
“Uncle. That is hardly conversation for an assembly.” Caroline felt the blood rush to her face and noticed Theo and Freddie seemed just as uncomfortable as she did. Joanna, to her credit, pretended not to have noticed the faux pas.
“I just wanted to pass my congratulations along that he seemed so hearty now, Caroline,” replied Uncle Harold, who seemed bewildered by Caroline’s chastisement.
“Thank you. I am quite recovered,” said Theo, in a tone that brooked no more conversation on the matter.
Uncle Harold gave a small cough, and Caroline groaned internally as he continued to speak.
“You, too, are looking rather well, Caroline. One might say blooming.” He leaned in and said conspiratorially, “Are you in the family way?”
“Uncle!” This time she was too shocked for anything more than the one word. She heard Freddie say faintly, “This is hardly the place…” and Theo’s face darkened.
“I merely meant to say that she is looking very well indeed.” Uncle Harold smiled blandly at the circle, and then looked away over Caroline’s shoulder. “Oh! Celina is here. I must go speak with her.”
And with a bow, he was gone, leaving the group blinking at each other in shock.
Caroline was the first to recover, spinning around to where her mother had been seated. “I hope he does not irritate her,” she fretted. “He seems to be in a… very odd frame of mind.”
“It will be alright,” replied Theo. “He is unlikely to try anything at an assembly. And the countess is well disposed to send him away with a flea in his ear if he causes problems.”
“Is he always that… ebullient?” asked Joanna, unfurling her fan and fanning her face.
“You mean rude,” replied Caroline sourly. “And the answer is no, not usually. He is thoughtless and sometimes a little bullying, but never so blunt as that.”
Caroline saw Freddie and Theo exchange a glance and demanded, “What? Do you know otherwise of him?”
Theo shrugged, a little apologetically. “We had a business arrangement with him once. He was unnecessarily harsh with his workers, and his business practices skirted the law.”
“Despite that, he is an awful, grasping fellow,” added Freddie with a shudder.
“You will remember that he is still my uncle, and my mother’s only brother,” cautioned Caroline, and Freddie immediately turned and bowed.
“You are right,” he replied. “Forgive me.”
Caroline smiled wanly. “Of course, you are forgiven. But I wonder what made him speak so strangely tonight. He is usually not so impolite. In fact, he strains to be as polite as possible. It is one of his worst traits.”
There was silence in the group as they all pondered the question, a silence that Theo broke by saying, “I fear we shall not solve the puzzle of Uncle Harold this evening. Caroline, do you wish to dance? That was why I came over in the first place.”
Joanna turned to him, mouth agape. “You will continue to dance with your wife, even after you are married?”
“Of course,” Theo replied with some asperity. “I enjoy dancing. Why would I not take the opportunity to engage in it?” He looked down to Caroline. “And with such a lovely woman on my arm?”
While Caroline blushed, Lady Ridgely shook her head and muttered, “I have to have a word to that husband of mine.”
Freddie immediately turned to her and bowed, saying, “In his absence, would you deign to dance with me, lovely lady? I understand I am but a poor substitute for your dear husband, but…”
“Absolutely,” Lady Ridgely interjected firmly, and took Freddie arm.
Laughing, they all joined the guests on the dance floor.
Chapter Eighteen.
The following afternoon, Caroline was seated on her bed, in quiet contemplation. The evening had been wonderful, not including the strange interruption from Uncle Harold, and she had felt a kind of comfortable completeness dancing with her husband.
He had quietly asked her whether Uncle Harold was right, whether she was pregnant, and she had shaken her head no. And while there had been a flare of regret in his eyes at her answer, there was no discomfort in the discussion.
Caroline knew that Theo wanted children. They had discussed it on that first day, when Caroline had left Theo’s presence in a fury. He looked for a house load of children; five had been his suggestion. Caroline was not averse to that many children, indeed, motherhood was something that appealed to her.
“Caroline.”
She looked up quickly at the intrusion into her thoughts, and smiled at Fenella, patting the bed beside her in an invitation for the fairy godmother to sit down.
“I will not return the charm, if that is what you are here about,” she warned playfully. Fenella shook her head. “That’s not why I’m here.”
Caroline looked at her in some surprise. Fenella seemed listless, very far from her usual fiery self. She waited for the fae to begin talking.
“There’s something happening to me. Something strange that I don’t quite understand. And I thought perhaps you could tell me what to do.”
“Me?”
Fenella nodded. “You see, I can’t tell whether I am falling in love.”
For a moment, Caroline was speechless. She had not realised that fae could fall in love. All fairy godmothers were female. Were the
y not?
“Well,” she started hesitantly, “I am not terribly certain there is anything I can tell you…”
“You can tell me how to make it go away,” Fenella ground out, jumping up from the bed and pacing the room. Puffs of grey smoke trailed her, but without the forks of lightning that had accompanied it previously.
Surprised, Caroline said, “But I do not know how to make it go away.”
“So, what you’re saying is that I won’t be able to help it? I’m just going to fall in love and that’s it?”
Caroline shrugged. “I really cannot answer you, Fenella. I lack sufficient experience in the matter to advise you.”
“But in your experience?”
“In my experience, once you start to fall, there is no turning back.”
Fenella said a few choice words in a language that Caroline did not understand, but that brought her to the blush anyway. She sought around in her mind for another solution.
“Perhaps you could avoid him.” Fenella looked at her quickly. “Or her. Or… do they even have male and female fae? You see,” she was feeling quite desperate now as Fenella’s gaze speared her, “I simply do not have enough understanding to help you.”
Fenella sat back down with a heavy sigh. “No, I suppose you do not.” To Caroline’s surprise, Fenella blushed, spots of pink appearing on her porcelain cheeks. “Does it do strange things to your insides to be around him?” she asked, almost shyly.
Caroline nodded with a rueful smile. “And when he smiles at me, it is like the sun is shining all that much brighter.”
“And you want to be around him all the time?”
“Yes. But I do not want to appear clinging, so I let him have time to himself, though I count the moments until I return to his side.”
Fenella sighed again. “Then I am definitely falling in love. What am I to do?”
“Can you not embrace it?”
“It’s Lachlan.”
The name was not familiar to Caroline, and her expression conveyed her confusion to Fenella, who added, “He’s my mentor.”
Again, Caroline could not understand why this was important.
Fenella said, “He is the one who will decide whether I get to be a fully-fledged fairy godmother at the end of my apprenticeship.”
“Oh. So, he is your teacher?”
“For want of a better word, yes.”
Caroline put her hands in her lap. Falling in love with one’s teacher was not uncommon. She had heard of it occurring, if not frequently then certainly regularly. Especially when the teacher was young and handsome. Or she was governess at a home with a young man.
“Is he young and handsome?” she queried.
Fenella gave a half-smile. “To you, he will be very old. But in terms of a fae lifespan, he is but recently matured.”
“And how old is that exactly?”
“He’s ninety-seven.”
“Ninety-seven! And how old are you?”
“I’m seventy-two.”
Caroline’s mouth fell open, but Fenella went on to explain, “You see, time works differently in Byd Tal’m. Our years pass differently.”
“Bide Tallum?”
“Byd Tal’m is our version of Earth.”
Now Caroline’s head was spinning. “Your version of Earth?”
Fenella settled herself as if getting ready for a long explanation, then shook her head. “No. It would take too long. All you need to know is that there are four planes of this world - you live on Earth, and I live on Byd Tal’m.”
“What are the other two?”
“Caroline, please. Focus.”
“Of course.” Caroline shook her head, trying to remember what she had previously wanted to say. “So, in your estimation, Lachlan is young and handsome?”
“Definitely.”
“Then I have heard of situations like yours.”
Fenella leaned forward eagerly. “And what did they do?”
“Well, usually the young lady’s parents separated her from the teacher. After all, nobody wants their daughter to have to survive on a teacher’s salary.”
Caroline looked to Fenella for confirmation, but receiving nothing but a blank look, she went on.
“Of course, there are cases where it is the female who is the teacher, and she is usually turned off without reference. But in some cases, they marry. But that was usually when the young woman was of marriageable age. And well titled, though impoverished.” She had a sudden thought. “Do they have marriage in Bide…?”
“Byd Tal’m? Yes. But it differs to marriage here.”
“How so?”
“Caroline. Focus.”
“Yes, yes.” Her eyes widened as she considered the third possibility. “The worst outcome has always been where the teacher has surrendered to their passions.”
Fenella’s eyes gleamed. “Surrendered to their passions?”
“Yes. In those cases, they are usually forbidden to see each other ever again.”
“Oh.” Fenella’s shoulders fell, her enthusiasm melting away. “That would not be good.”
Caroline kept her hands in her lap. She was not certain whether a friendly arm around the shoulders would be of comfort to the fae.
“Can you ask for a replacement mentor?” she asked quietly.
“It’s what I should do,” agreed Fenella glumly. “But I don’t want to.”
“In that case, I truly do not see any outcome except you continuing to fall in love.”
Fenella nodded. “That was the conclusion I reached as well. Thanks for confirming it.”
“You are quite welcome.”
“Now, will you give me back the charm?”
Caroline chuckled. “No. But I promise to return it as soon as I am done with it.”
Fenella harrumphed. “And that will be never. So, I’ll be on my way now.”
“Fenella?” Caroline stood up and, after a moment of hesitation, gave the despondent looking fae a quick hug around her shoulders. “Good luck.”
“Thank you. I think I’m going to need it.”
Chapter Nineteen.
The club was quiet in the early afternoon, which reflected Theo’s mood just perfectly. He didn’t need companionship or conviviality today, he just needed to sit in one of the comforting leather chairs and think.
“Can I bring you a brandy, Sir Theodore?” the butler asked, but Theo shook his head no. “Could you get me a coffee instead?” The butler bowed and walked away as Theo knocked out his pipe.
Although he didn’t like to admit it to Caroline, he was concerned over the two attempts on his life.
He pushed the tobacco into the bowl of the pipe and lit it, taking a deep breath of the fragrant mixture and blowing out the smoke. It did not quite have the same calming effect as it usually did. But that was unsurprising considering the disquiet of his mind.
Theo had never in his wildest dreams expected to be a target like this. There was no good reason for it - he had business deals go sour sometimes, of course, but they happened all the time to all sorts of people. He did not believe he had gained any true enemies from those - and if he had, Freddie would be a target too.
Harold Ponsonby, of course, was a threat. But Theo did not believe Ponsonby had the connections or the means to make the attempts on his life. And besides, there was no benefit to be had by Ponsonby in the event of Theo’s death. Caroline and her mother would be well taken care of, far away from his greedy hands.
Who else? Theo racked his brains, but nobody else came to mind.
The butler re-appeared at his elbow with his coffee, which he accepted with thanks and set down on the table beside him.
Her put his pipe in his mouth and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands.
Think, Theo!
It was no use. It was unfathomable to Theo that someone would dislike him sufficiently to want to kill him. There was no sense to it.
Brooding, he stared into the fire and drank his coffee between puffs on his pipe. H
e had no idea where to turn next. Should he hire an investigator of some sort? He was sure the magistrate would be able to point him in the direction of someone like that.
“Hello, Theo, you look like you could use some company.”
It was Freddie with the usual open smile on his face, probably the only person, apart from Caroline, that Theo would be pleased to share his solitude with. He smiled through his pipe smoke and indicated for Freddie to sit, which he did with a contented sigh.
“What are you doing sitting here all alone, my friend?” Freddie said, reaching into his pocket for his own smoking device. “You looked so forlorn and worried.”
Theo hadn’t mentioned to Freddie or Guthrie about the magistrate’s investigations. It seemed unnecessary, especially since the magistrate himself was none too certain he would ever find an answer. But now, he needed a confidante.
“Freddie, I think someone is out to kill me.”
After a moment of stunned silence, Freddie erupted into laughter, and Theo, startled by his friend’s mirth, frowned.
“It is not a jest, Freddie. I am deadly serious.”
Freddie was still looking amused. “And just how did you reach that conclusion?” he asked.
“Never mind,” replied Theo, returning to his contemplation of the fireplace.
“You have to admit it sounds ridiculous,” Freddie said in a cajoling voice.
“Of course it does,” sputtered Theo. “I am nobody. There is no good reason to kill me. Yet I have been set upon by footpads who were intent on doing just that, and then I was poisoned at my own dinner party.”
Now Freddie was silent and when Theo looked up at him, his eyes were round. “Poisoned?”
“Yes. Someone put bryony root on my plate. Thankfully it was too bitter, so I did not eat it all.”
“But… Theo. What possible motive would someone have for killing you?”
“That is exactly what I have been sitting here trying to work out.” He threw Freddie a desperate glance. “Nobody hates me enough to kill me. And anyone who does hate me enough does not have the means.”
“Who hates you enough?”
“Only Harold Ponsonby, I think. He threatened me when I refused to give him more money.”
