There was a long silence in which she didn’t dare look at him. When she did finally glance up, she was surprised to see an expression of weary sadness. Far from glaring at her in outrage, his eyes were distant, as if focused on faded memory.
“Um, Sebastian?” She touched him lightly on the back of his hand, worried.
At her touch he visibly shook himself, eyes returning to the present, though he didn’t meet her gaze. “I get by on my own blood and sweat. Being a professional witch isn’t lucrative, but it pays the bills, and that’s all I need. All I want. I don’t take anything I haven’t earned.” His tone was defiant, yet his words conveyed vulnerability, not his usual brash confidence.
Lily gulped, unsure what to say. This was a Sebastian she’d rarely seen. Charming, teasing, roguish Sebastian she knew how to deal with. But this?
Hesitating, she laid her hand on his, jumping a little when he twitched, perhaps in surprise at her boldness. Ignoring the blush this caused, she said quietly, “I believe you,” and left it at that. She wanted to say more, to demand answers. But she didn’t. Hopefully he would volunteer them on his own.
Sebastian sighed into the silence between them, the soft noise barely audible over the bustle of the Atlanta airport, even this early in the morning. “When our parents died, they left Freddie and me rather, um, large sums of money. Mr. Perfect used his almost right away to invest and start a business before he even finished college. He’s done quite well with it, of course.” A flash of something, perhaps envy, or disgust, accompanied his words. “Mine got put in a trust. I haven’t touched it since.”
“Until recently?” Lily prodded gently.
“Well…yeah.”
Silence again. Lily was fine with that, since her head was too full of thoughts to sort them out into words anyway. She’d always assumed Sebastian’s parents had been relatively middle-class, at least for a wizard family, and that Madam Barrington’s fortunes were unrelated, since she’d come directly from old English stock. She’d never before known the particulars of her mentor’s relationship to her friend, beyond, of course, that she was his aunt of several generations. But now, knowing he was George Dee’s great-grandson…she’d done a bit of research last night on the name, and, while he was no noble, his list of accolades was so long you could have cut it up and sewn it into a suit. Much of it was decades old, of course. She’d noticed that once wizards passed the normal, mundane age of retirement, they did their best to fade into the background and not make a fuss about the fact that they appeared distinctly impervious to age. But of all the people who mattered, she was sure there were still many quiet, unspoken connections that lasted long after the public limelight had faded.
Though it had made her squirm inwardly, she’d also done some research on the Barringtons. She’d resisted before now out of respect for her mentor’s privacy. But if she was going to travel abroad and attempt to make allies out of foreign wizards, she’d better know the lay of the land.
Surprisingly, or perhaps not, she could find no information about an Ethel Barrington. This would make sense if she had, indeed, been disowned after her marriage to a commoner, and a mundane, no less. Lily had more luck with the sister’s name, Day Barrington, at the time of her death, Day Dee. Day was the only recorded daughter of Miles Reginald Barrington, 10th Viscount Barrington of Aylesborough—one of the many variations of the city name Aylesbury. Though Lily had no idea if Day had been a wizard, she suspected the marriage between her and George Dee had been more about magical lineage than titles and property. If George Dee was as powerful as Madam Barrington had implied, even a wizard of great property and title would be anxious to ally with him despite his lack of noble peerage. Because of English peerage laws, upon Miles’s death the title of Viscount had gone to his closest male relative—a cousin—rather than pass on to Day. But still, her inheritance would have been substantial.
Lily hadn’t been able to learn any more than that in the brief time she’d had. So she was eager, if rather nervous, about meeting George Dee and getting the full story. She wondered if Sebastian had ever met his great-grandfather, or even knew who he was. With his father’s anti-magic attitude, it seemed unlikely they would have maintained strong ties with the wizard side of the family.
“I couldn’t use it.”
Lily almost missed the words, they were so quiet. Distracted, trying to corral her wandering thoughts, she gave Sebastian’s hand an absent-minded pat to show, well, something. Solidarity perhaps? Only then did she realize her hand was still there, resting on his. She thought about withdrawing it, purpose achieved. But before she could decide, Sebastian turned his own hand over and laced his fingers through hers. After that she didn’t have the heart to pull away.
“I…it would be like admitting they were gone. Like I would rather have the money than have them back. It’s ridiculous, I know…”
“No, it’s not.” Lily still didn’t know what to say, so just said whatever came to her. It was a thrilling, and terrifying, experience. “Even though they left the money to you, it still feels like theirs. And if you use the money, it becomes yours, and that would erase their memory from it. Sort of like that watch you showed me once, the one your Dad gave to you. You never wear it, right? Maybe because, if you wore it, it wouldn’t feel like your Dad’s watch anymore and you’d lose that small part of him, one of the few you have left…” She trailed off, hoping she’d said the right thing. Judging from how tightly Sebastian gripped her hand, she thought she had. Her next question was hesitant, since she wasn’t sure if it was prying too deep, but at least it might get them off the topic of his dead parents.
“So, why did you finally decide to use it?”
“Because you needed me.”
Lily sat, stunned, not sure how to take that answer.
“It was for you, not me, and…Mom and Dad would have liked that.” He finally looked up at her, face full of pain, but eyes softened by a hesitant hopefulness.
No words came to her, and obviously her brain had stopped working a while ago. So instead she just smiled and squeezed back. It was enough.
They did not, in fact, see Sir Kipling nine hours later. Unbeknownst to them, it took several hours to process animals shipped internationally, so they had quite a bit of downtime before they could make their way to the Heathrow Animal Reception Center. At the HARC, after presenting all their paperwork and receipts, they were finally presented with one surprisingly content feline. Lily waited until they were outside before grilling her pet, having expected to find him in high dudgeon after hours of confinement.
“Well,” he said, “I was rather grumpy when the plane arrived—there was a dog in the hold with me, you see, and it would not cease its yapping. But the lovely lady who took care of me was very appreciative of my natural handsomeness and grace. She gave me milk and salmon, if you would believe. Couldn’t keep her hands off me.”
Lily eyed her cat’s self-satisfied expression, unable to stop her lips from curling into a smile despite his obvious implication that she was derelict for her inferior food offerings. “Well, I’m glad you’re in a good mood, because you’ll have to stay in your carrier for now. I’m sure they won’t allow loose pets on the bus.”
That wiped the smug expression right off his face, and he settled down into a disgruntled ball of fluff inside his carrier, refusing to speak to her further. That was alright. He would perk up once they’d found a hotel and he could roam free again.
They’d decided not to spend the night in London, but rather to go straight to Oxford and book a hotel. They had a meeting with Helen Pemberton at nine on Monday, and so had all of tomorrow to settle in and track down George Dee. It would just be easier to go straight to Oxford and use it as their staging point rather than try to navigate London’s crowded streets. Of course, Oxford’s labyrinthine alleys wouldn’t be much better—Lily had seen the maps and was very glad neither of them had bothered to get an international driver’s license. But at least they would only have to
book into one hotel.
It took some tricky navigation through various shuttles, but they finally found their way to Heathrow Central Bus Station. By this time it was past midnight, though to Lily it felt about eight o’clock. Even so, she was dead tired from getting up so early, and took a quick nap, leaning against Sebastian’s shoulder as they waited for the bus. The bus to Oxford only came about every two hours this late, or early, in the day, so they had quite a wait. By the time it arrived Sebastian had to shake her awake, and she followed him blearily on board, letting him take care of the necessary exchange of monies while she found a seat to accommodate them, their luggage, and their unhappy feline.
The trip took barely an hour and a half, giving Lily plenty of time to be disappointed at missing the beautiful English countryside they were passing through, now cloaked in darkness. She’d been surprised at how balmy things felt when they’d exited the airport—they’d come prepared for any eventuality of weather, something she’d read was a must in England. It was most definitely chilly, requiring a long skirt and light jacket, clothing she would be sweating in at this time of year in Atlanta. But it was a far cry from the blast of freezing rain she’d been led to expect on any given day in England. Well, except perhaps in July. Other than that, all bets were off.
When they finally arrived at Gloucester Green in the center of Oxford City, they were stumbling with weariness and clueless as to where they might find a pet-friendly hotel. It took them nearly twenty minutes to find the taxi rack, which was hidden one street over between a row of shops, rather than directly next to the bus station. It was deserted at this time of night. Well, morning. Fortunately, Lily had possessed the foresight to purchase them both pre-paid phones at the airport and they were able to call a taxi without much delay. Sebastian took the driver’s recommendation of a hotel and they were dropped off at the Macdonald Randolph. Had Lily been fully awake, she would have protested the choice, since it was a five-star hotel and entirely more expensive than they needed. But at this point Sebastian was steering the ship and she simply followed along, lugging her oversized suitcase and carrier full of cat. She was awake enough to notice Sebastian’s hesitation when the lady at the front desk tried to put them in one room. But it was only for a moment, then he smiled politely and said that, no, they would require separate rooms with a pet-friendly one for the miss.
At last, at long, long last, Lily dragged herself into her hotel room. She had only enough energy to free Sir Kipling from his carrier and set out food and water and a litter pan before collapsing onto the bed, fully clothed and fully unconscious.
2
The Most Honorable House of Barrington
It was well past noon on Sunday before she felt alive enough to get up. The first thing she saw was Sir Kipling sitting on the windowsill, watching the street outside with some interest.
“What is it?” Lily asked blearily, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
“We’re in England, right?” her cat asked.
“Yes…why?”
“Because it looks like downtown Beijing out there, there’s so many Asians. And they’re all waving these strange sticks around above their heads. I can’t tell if they’re angry or if it’s some sort of mating ritual. England certainly is an odd place.”
Confused, but curious, Lily stumbled out of bed and joined Sir Kipling at the window. He hadn’t been exaggerating. The street was thronging with life, and yes, most of them appeared to be Asian. She laughed. “Those are tour groups, silly. See all the tour guides waving their umbrellas and shouting? And the sticks are to help the tourists take pictures with their cell phones.”
“I see,” he muttered, tail twitching thoughtfully. “I suppose I expected there to be more, well, Englishmen in England.”
Lily’s smile was interrupted by a yawn and she stretched, trying to get the kinks out of her back. “I’m sure it will calm down during the week. But remember, this is Oxford. It’s home to one of the most internationally famous universities in the world. I’m sure there are thousands of students and scholars here from every country imaginable. Now, why don’t you make yourself useful and go wake Sebastian up. We need to get to Aylesbury as soon as possible.”
In response to her request, Sir Kipling lifted a paw and started washing between his toes.
Lily rolled her eyes, looking around for her pre-paid phone. She wanted to call Allen to see how Madam Barrington was doing. The phone was in her hand, number half dialed, before she remembered that Atlanta was five hours behind. She would check in later. Putting the phone down, she headed for the bathroom and a much-needed shower.
When she emerged, wrapped in a towel and ready to get dressed, Sir Kipling was gone. Lily smiled, knowing her cat wasn’t unwilling to help, he just had an image to maintain. After all, he was a cat. He couldn’t look like he was actually taking orders since, as he would say, “obeying is for dogs.”
In short order Lily was freshened, dressed, and ready for the day. Knowing they were going to meet a very important and powerful wizard, she’d taken extra care with her outfit. According to the weather report, it was supposed to be sunny and in the mid-sixties—an uncommonly beautiful September day by English standards, if a bit chilly to a southerner. Lily had actually seen some people on the street in short sleeves but knew she would freeze if she tried it. So instead, she donned a professional yet stylish grey knit suit with a pale blue blouse and put a bit of glamour on her ward bracelet to make it match her silver pearl-drop earrings. Her hair, as always, was pulled back in a bun, though nothing so severe as Madam Barrington wore. She’d toyed with the idea of hair sticks over the years, but every time she considered trying them out, she imagined falling and stabbing herself in the neck. It would be just like her to die of self-inflicted hair-stick wounds.
It was unfortunate there hadn’t been time to come up with a sensible “adventure” outfit, as she had begun to think of it. She’d promised herself she would buy, design, or acquire one somehow at the earliest opportunity. But here she was, already in England and still wearing constrictive skirts and heeled oxfords. Was it too much to ask for something she could run and climb in while still looking fit to meet a noble? Well, there wasn’t time now to worry about it, so she shelved the problem and prayed they wouldn’t be running or climbing anytime soon.
By the time she had collected her things into a sensible leather handbag, it was almost two o’clock. And they hadn’t even had breakfast yet. She went to the next room over and knocked on Sebastian’s door. Waiting for an answer, she stared morosely at her leather bag, wishing she had her much larger carpetbag instead. As it was she’d had to fit her eduba, personal effects, and a few casting supplies into something half its size.
The door opened with a click and Lily looked up, expecting to see Sebastian’s face. But there was no one there.
“He’s just finishing up, you can come in,” came a voice at her feet.
Looking down, she saw Sir Kipling sitting in the doorway, looking quite proud of himself.
“What—how did you—” she spluttered. Finally she just threw up her hands and stepped into the room, thoroughly convinced her cat was using magic to open locked doors. That had to be it. There was no other way. Was there?
She was so preoccupied with her cat’s mysterious ways that she didn’t notice the sound of the bathroom door opening. She looked up just in time to avoid colliding with a dripping Sebastian, clad only in a towel around the waist as he exited the bathroom.
“Oh my—”
“Holy cow—”
They exclaimed in unison, a shocked Sebastian almost losing his grip on the towel as Lily spun away, covering her eyes and blushing beet-red. Mumbling apologies and not waiting for him to speak, she shuffled sideways, eyes tightly shut as she felt for the door handle. Upon finding it, she fled, making a quick escape to her own room where she collapsed on the bed.
That. Bad. Cat. There would be no milk, salmon, or clotted cream for that devious little reprobate anytime soon.<
br />
Lying on her back and feeling the heat radiating off her cheeks, she could just hear Sebastian’s voice in the other room, no doubt having a talk with her mischievous feline. Whether he was angry or amused, however, she couldn’t tell.
“Uuuggg…” she groaned to herself, covering her eyes again. She’d never been so embarrassed in her life. What made it even worse was that, for the split second before she spun around, she’d enjoyed the view…
Desperate for a distraction, she jumped back up and carefully peeked out of the room. With no sign of Sebastian, she hurried down the hall and to the elevators, heading for the hotel restaurant to find some breakfast. Well, lunch, actually.
She was halfway through her Eggs Benedict when Sebastian found her. Sir Kipling was nowhere in sight, no doubt sneaking around since, as far as the hotel was concerned, all pets were supposed to be on a leash or in a carrier.
Unable to meet Sebastian’s eyes without blushing furiously, Lily kept her attention on her food. He sat down across from her and a waiter took his order. They sat in silence for several minutes before he finally spoke.
“So, what’s the plan for today?”
Relief filled her from crown to toe. If he wasn’t going to mention their little, ahem, encounter, neither was she.
“We need to find your grandfather, George Dee, and tell him what’s going on,” Lily said, finally looking up. Besides there being a bit more twinkle in his eyes than normal, Sebastian looked as he always did, though Lily noticed he’d tucked in his shirt. Come to think of it, the general quality of his button-down top and slacks was much higher than he generally wore and… “Sebastian, did you comb your hair?” Lily asked, flabbergasted.
Love, Lies, and Hocus Pocus Legends Page 3
