The boy comes to a stop inches from the water’s edge. His face takes on a look of intense concentration, and I know he’s struggling against the mud. When at last he realizes he will not be able to free himself and continue to the water, he lets out a frustrated wail. The woman reaches him, and at the moment she scoops him into her arms, I release the arcana. His feet come free, and mud flies in every direction. She spins him around, kissing his fat cheeks.
Lord Thornewood arrives a moment later and says a few words to her. She nods, still holding the boy tightly to her breast.
A flash of emerald green velvet catches my attention just to the right of where the boy was. Eliza’s eyes meet mine over the river. I can feel her cold stare from even this distance, and anxious fear snakes down my spine. How much did she see? The power rippling across the water? The mud drawing up around the boy’s ankles? I shake my head. Perhaps I’m merely being paranoid.
I back the mare out of the water as Lord Thornewood returns to my side. I feel as feverish as I did when I saved Robert, so I release its hold before it saps all my strength. The lovely support disappears, and my horse tosses her head, nearly knocking me off balance.
“Whoa there,” Lord Thornewood calls out to my mare sternly. He looks at me with some concern. “Are you alright, Miss Sinclair?”
“She just surprised me. I’m fine,” I say. My breathing is rapid, though, and I force myself to take deep breaths. I glance up at the sky, but the sun is now hidden away by thick clouds. My only other option is to draw strength from the river. “Actually, my lord, I wonder if you might help me dismount for a moment?”
“Of course,” he says, throwing his leg over the side of his gelding and landing lightly on his feet. He strides over to me and holds my mare steady. “You look so pale. Are you sure you’re alright?”
I cannot even answer him. It takes all I have to force my leg over the pommel so I may slide down into his arms. Shakily, I do so. His hands are firm but gentle on my waist, holding me steady.
My knees threaten to buckle, and I beg them to hold out just a moment longer. “Could you help me to the water? I just believe I’ve become overheated.”
His jaw flexes once, but he nods and helps me to the water’s edge. With wooden movements, I yank off my gloves. I let the cold water rush over my bare hands. The clouds part again, the sunlight restoring my energy even as the water cools my feverish skin. I gasp as I’m able to catch my breath again.
“Better?” Lord Thornewood asks when I straighten. “I don’t scare easily, Miss Sinclair, but I have to admit, the prospect of you fainting has me a little nervous.”
“I won’t faint,” I say, my voice much stronger. I tug at the jacket of my riding habit and give him a wry smile. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have worn wool today. I almost felt as though I was suffocating.”
“Ah, well you wouldn’t hurt my feelings if you removed your coat,” he says, a teasing light entering his eyes.
This brings up the image of undressing in front of him, and my face flames. A rakish thing to say if ever I heard one.
The sound of another horse draws our attention, and I frown when I see it is Eliza. Her eyes have a glint of malice in them, which sets my teeth on edge.
“Lord Thornewood, Katherine,” she says when she is closer. “I find you deep in conversation by the water once again. Why, it must be your favorite place to meet.”
She is dressed in a riding habit as well, but the deep green sets off her pale hair and green eyes wonderfully. Not a single hair is out of place, and she looks much more comfortable in the sidesaddle than I do.
“Good morning, Miss Gray,” the earl says.
She smiles at him, even bats her long eyelashes a bit, and I stifle a groan.
“It’s lovely to see you again, Eliza,” I say, and she drags her eyes to my face.
“And you as well. But Katherine, you look so fatigued. And you’re no longer mounted. Did you have a tumble?”
She couldn’t be any less sincere. I know she is commenting on the fact my hair is in disarray and my cheeks are no doubt flushed from the exercise.
“No, just a tad overheated.”
“Hm,” she says, still watching me with a knowing smile. Again I wonder just how much she saw—and more importantly, if she knew what it implied. “A terrible business with that little boy just now.”
I stiffen, and my eyes dart to Lord Thornewood.
He nods somberly. “Yes, it was lucky indeed the banks are so muddy this time of year. He was unable to make it to the water. His nanny and I wouldn’t have made it in time otherwise.”
“Oh,” I say, “is that who she was? I wasn’t sure if she was his mother or a nanny.”
“A nanny, which I suppose is in some ways worse. I cannot imagine having to inform the parents if anything had happened to him.” He gazes out over the water, the current rushing by us. “I asked her if she needed any assistance, but she declined. I think she was just overcome with relief.”
Eliza puts her hand to her chest. “Oh, you are too kind, my lord. When you galloped across the bridge to help, I thought surely I’d never seen anything so chivalrous in my life.” Just as I’m about to gag on her saccharine words, she adds, “I was on the other side of the bank, you see, and I saw everything.”
My eyes snap to hers, but she is wearing the same catty look she always does. Again I wonder if she truly knows I wielded arcana, or if she is merely playing with me.
My mare stamps her hoof in boredom, ready to be moving again. As I give her neck a pat in reassurance, I notice a familiar chestnut mare approaching. My brother lifts his hand in greeting and trots his horse over to us.
“Robert,” I say, my face taken over by an enormous smile. “I wasn’t expecting you to arrive so soon. I am delighted to see you.”
His expression is equally as bright. “Grandmama insisted I seek you out. Naturally I wanted to see you right away.” His eyes land on the earl’s face. “But I see you are with company.”
“Oh, forgive me. May I present Lord Colin Thornewood, and Miss Eliza Gray. This is my brother, the Honorable Robert Sinclair.”
“Charmed, I’m sure,” Eliza says, her eyes traveling the length of him. I tighten my grip on the reins.
“Robert is in town for my debut. He’s on leave from Oxford.” There, let her realize he is too young to be thinking of marriage yet.
“Ah, I see. Welcome to London, Mr. Sinclair,” she says.
“Thank you, I’m very glad to be here.” He turns his attention back to me. “Father has a wonderful surprise for you. He sent a couple of our horses here for you to ride.”
“Oh, which?” Finally, my own horses. Now maybe I won’t be so unsteady.
“The chestnut gelding and the gray stallion.”
“Stallion?” Lord Thornewood asks, his brows drawn low over his eyes. “Your father would send a stallion for your sister to ride?”
“My sister is a very talented equestrian. She can easily handle the horse, and indeed, does so all the time.” My brother answers calmly, but I see the telltale tightness in his jaw that suggests he’s annoyed by Lord Thornewood’s criticism.
“She’s riding a mare now and seems very fatigued,” Eliza says. “I commented on it just a few moments ago.”
“Yes, well, she’s not used to riding sidesaddle.”
A silence descends upon us, and I hold my breath. Foolish Robert! How could he say something like that? Doesn’t he realize what a scandal it is for a lady to ride astride?
Eliza lets out a mean little laugh. “You cannot be suggesting your own sister is fast. Or do you fancy yourself a man, Katherine?”
I’m too stunned to reply. Anger and humiliation churn in my stomach. I cannot believe she’d say such an insulting thing.
Robert finally catches on he’s made a terrible blunder and stumbles over his words. “Oh, I—no. No, of course not. I misspoke. I meant to say she’s not used to so modern a sidesaddle.”
“Ah, I see,” Eliza says
, but her eyes squint in a calculating way.
“Miss Sinclair,” Lord Thornewood says, “you seem to have done well with the mare I brought along today. You are welcome to ride her anytime you wish.”
Clearly he doesn’t approve of my choice of horses. So what would he think if he knew I really don’t ride sidesaddle? Or did he see through my brother’s attempt to cover his candid words? Either way, I am sick of people who insist upon imposing their will on me.
“How very kind of you,” I say, and even I can tell my tone has gone cold. “My apologies, but I must beg to return to the house. I am more tired than I thought.”
“Of course,” the earl says, concern turning his mouth down at the corners. “Will you excuse us, Miss Gray?”
“By all means,” Eliza says. “It was so lovely to make your acquaintance, Mr. Sinclair.”
“And yours,” Robert says with an irritated frown.
“May I assist you in mounting again?” Lord Thornewood asks.
I hesitate, wishing I could ask Robert to help me instead. “Thank you. Yes.”
I turn to face the mare, gripping the saddle with both hands. Lifting my left leg slightly, he takes hold and boosts me up in one smooth movement. Once I’m settled back in the saddle, he mounts his own horse.
He and Robert turn their horses back toward the path. Before I can follow, Eliza says, “Oh, and Katherine? Good luck with your debut.”
Her cruel smile is clue enough I can consider her words a threat.
SEVEN
THE day of my debut, the weather refuses to cooperate despite my grandmother’s constant complaints. Rain streaks down the windows of the sitting room where Lucy and I take tea and thunder rumbles ominously in the distance. Since Grandmama is finally preparing herself for the ball we will attend afterward, I enjoy the precious few moments of peace—at least as much as I can since my stomach has transformed into a snake pit of nerves.
“The dressmaker did a superb job making the gown,” Lucy says and reaches out to feel the heavy satin.
“Thanks to your drawing,” I say with a smile.
“What do you think of the color?”
I glance down at the creamy ivory and touch the veil covering my hair. “I look like a bride.”
She laughs. “I knew you’d feel that way.”
“It’s an embarrassing tradition. I can’t think of a single way to make it more obvious what the true purpose of a debut is.” I can only hope the lace flowers on my dress are enough to set it apart from an actual bridal gown.
“Well, take comfort. Robert will be there, and I’m sure he’ll be just as miserable as you.”
I heave a sigh. “It’s little consolation. He will only be able to accompany me to the ball afterward. I must face the court—and the queen—alone.”
“You will be brilliant, I’m sure of it. I so wish I could be there, but I shall have to make do with your faithful recounting of the evening.”
“I will not leave out a single detail. Oh, and lest I should forget,” I say and withdraw Mama’s journal from my reticule. “I thought we could see if Mama has any words of advice.”
Lucy lets out a breathy sound of excitement and moves closer. “I do hope so.”
I let the journal fall open, hoping for my mother’s guidance on this of all nights. The creamy pages stare up at us, frustratingly blank.
Lucy puts on a forced smile, as if hiding her disappointment. “I’m sure an entry will appear later—perhaps after you return?”
“Perhaps,” I murmur, still watching the pages for any hint of words—or runes. “There was another rune at the bottom of the last entry.”
“Did it show you another vision? Was it Mama’s realm?” Lucy asks, her speech rapid with her excitement.
“I’m not sure. It was a rock formation, almost like a bridge.” I think of the fox, but for some reason, I cannot bring myself to speak of it.
“What did the rune look like?”
“Like an hourglass, only it was on its side.”
“An hourglass . . . Oh! That rune represents a threshold or gateway.”
“A gateway. But to where?” First the vision of her realm, and then a rock formation under the gateway rune. Could she be showing me the way?
We both look up when Robert enters the room, dressed in his most formal tailcoat and white bow tie.
“Robert, you look very dashing,” I say and he grimaces.
“I look nothing of the sort.” He pauses as he takes in our melancholy expressions. “But why do you both look as though you’ve lost your favorite puppy?”
I hold up Mama’s journal before returning it to my reticule. “We were hoping for a little encouragement.”
“Ah, that is disappointing indeed. I cannot offer anything by way of advice, but I will certainly provide as much encouragement tonight as you can stand.” He smiles at me with his usual hint of mischief shining in his eyes. “You do look exquisite in that gown. What an improvement over riding breeches.”
“When will you learn to keep quiet? Grandmama might hear you.”
He at least looks moderately apologetic. “I suppose we shall find out tonight what damage I may have inadvertently caused.”
I cover my face. “Oh, do not remind me of that day. In front of Eliza of all people.”
“She did seem to delight in my mistake. Have you made an enemy so soon, Wren?”
“She’s been cold and jealous from the start,” I say with a glare. “Enough to suggest I was fast—how ludicrous.”
“She would do well to keep quiet,” Robert says. “If only they knew what powers you have.”
“Stop making it sound as if I could cause someone harm,” I say with a glare. “You make me feel monstrous indeed. It’s bad enough I’m not sure how much Eliza saw that day.”
Robert’s teasing look fades. “What do you mean?”
I glance down at my hands. “She may have seen me use a little arcana.”
“Oh no,” Lucy says while Robert shakes his head at me. “What happened?”
“A little boy was running for the river, so I manipulated the mud into holding him captive.” I widen my eyes at Robert’s disappointed look. “If I hadn’t, he would’ve been swept away by the current.”
“Well what is it you think Eliza saw? Surely she couldn’t have seen such a small amount of arcana,” he says.
“I looked up to find her watching me with . . . this look in her eyes. Oh, but I cannot be sure,” I say and rub my brow in frustration. I’m so overly sensitive to everything around me because of Mama’s warnings. Though I know I’m not imagining her dislike of me.
“Wren, honestly, you need to start telling us about these things,” Robert says. “We’re here to help.”
“You’ve been away at school, busy with your studies,” I say with a bit of an irritated edge to my voice. “And Lucy needn’t be burdened with every little thing that goes on.”
“I don’t mind,” Lucy says. “It’ll give me something to puzzle over while I’m cooped up in this house all day.”
I give her arm a squeeze. “I’m sorry Grandmama has kept you under lock and key.”
“What was the rumor she heard about you?” Robert asks.
“It’s not what you think,” I say just so he’ll stop glowering. “She just mentioned hearing about a girl from Gloucestershire who was so rebellious her father had to send her to London.”
“Seems the girl has some reputable sources then.”
I glare at him. “I wouldn’t laugh at someone spreading rumors about you.”
He holds up his hands. “My apologies, dear sister. I can see you are not in the mood for teasing.” He looks at Lucy with a mischievous grin. “Dare I ask, then, why she has feathers in her hair?”
I reach up and feel one of the three white ostrich feathers. “It’s another ridiculous debutante tradition. Grandmama ignored my pleas for a simple comb.”
“Ah, I see.” He pats the single line of braid on his trousers with his pair o
f white gloves as if eager to leave. “Well, come along then. Grandmama sent me to tell you the carriage has been pulled ’round.”
“Why didn’t you say so in the first place?” I say and struggle to my feet, balling the gown’s long train into my left hand.
“Don’t bunch it so,” Lucy says and straightens it out. “You’ll wrinkle it.”
I roll my eyes at her and follow Robert out the door.
Instead of my grandmother’s elegant barouche, a hired hackney waits in its place. Confusion furrows my brows as I glance at the awaiting footman. I would think tonight of all nights she would want to flaunt her considerable position in society with her own carriage.
“Katherine, hurry into the carriage before you ruin your gown,” Grandmama says, her tone sharp. She glares at the sky for a moment before pulling her velvet cape tighter around her.
“Grandmama, where is your barouche?” I ask.
She turns her glare from the sky to me. “What concern is it of yours where my carriage is? We have transportation for the evening. Kindly save your ridiculous questions for a time when we are not standing in cold, pouring rain.”
“Forgive me for asking the question anyone would in my position,” I snap. Surely I will not be able to take much more of her acerbic character.
She signals to the footman to help me into the carriage, pointedly ignoring my jibe.
“Oh, and lest I should forget,” she says once we are inside, “there has been a change in plans. Instead of Robert escorting you to the ball after your debut at Court, Lord Thornewood will meet us there to take his place.”
I gape at her. I knew the earl was to aid in my debut, but I thought we would share a dance or two. I never imagined I would enter a ballroom on his arm. I hate the thrill that runs up my spine almost as much as I resent the nervousness curled in my stomach.
“What about Robert?” I ask Grandmama. “He came all this way—”
“He’s here to support his sister, but your brother has not the social pull of an earl to make society take notice.” She waves her hand dismissively. “Surely you see that.”
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