Courtship and Curses
Page 29
He didn’t say a word for the first few minutes, apart from asking, “Are you tired?” after they’d made a couple of trips up and down the room.
“I … I’m not sure.”
“Tell me if you are.”
A moment later, when she could spare a particle of attention to something other than her feet and legs, she realized he was smiling. “What?” she whispered.
“Oh, nothing.… Well, not really nothing. I just realized I’ve won my wager with you.”
That yanked her out of her daze. “What wager?”
“Don’t you remember? It was at Mrs. Halliday’s ball. I said that I should dance with you within a year.”
“I—” For some reason, Sophie couldn’t say anything more. Her throat seemed disinclined to help produce speech just then.
“So I’ve won. We didn’t establish stakes, did we? Then I’ll name them now: that you’ll listen to me. I have a great deal to say to you.” He paused. “Or at least, I thought I did. I spent the boat ride to Ostend and the ride from Ghent composing a speech for you, but I’m afraid I can’t remember one word of it. Oh, Sophie.” His hand tightened on hers. “I was so worried about you here in Brussels with Mrs. Carswell—you don’t know how often I nearly said to the devil with everything and crossed the Channel to rescue you … until I found out about the comte. Lord Palmerston was gracious enough to take my word that it was vital to England’s security that I come over here—”
“To rescue me,” she said.
“No,” he said firmly. “Or maybe at first I planned to. But I discovered quickly enough what a misguided notion that was.”
She risked a glance up at his face. He was looking down at her, eyes filled with awe. “Your magic,” he said.
She looked away quickly, then lifted her chin and met his eyes once more. “Yes, my magic.”
“It’s … it’s—”
“It’s part of who I am. If it frightens you—if it’s too—”
“It doesn’t frighten me. Sophie, I can’t even imagine what you’re capable of—the wonders you can do.” He shook his head and tried to smile, but his voice was shaky too when he spoke. “It’s taken me a while, but I think I’ve finally come to understand that you’re the last person in the world I need to protect. Cherish and honor and love with all my heart? Absolutely. Rescue or protect? Never.”
Sophie felt a laugh tremble about her lips. “Parthenope always thought you were a fairly bright lad.”
He stopped dancing, suddenly, so that she had to cling to him to steady herself. He took advantage of her moment of imbalance to draw her closer to him. “Impudent chit,” he whispered, lips just brushing her ear. “Let’s see how much sauce you care to dish out when we’re married.”
She rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. All the tension and fear of the past hours drained away, leaving excitement and exultation in their wake … and something else.
“Quite a lot of sauce, I should think,” she whispered back. “It’s easy to be saucy when you’re so happy.”
Author’s Note
Sophie’s illness was polio. A small part of her is based on a lady I knew and loved as a child who’d had the same affliction, but who was not, as far as I know, a witch. She wore special shoes that helped her walk more normally, as did, by the way, Prince Talleyrand, the foreign minister to both Napoléon and Louis XVIII. Talleyrand was born with a clubfoot, but his lameness didn’t keep him from being one of the shakers and movers of the era. Not all people with handicaps were so lucky. Outward disabilities like Sophie’s were often assumed to be symptoms of inner defects, either mental or spiritual, or divine punishment for somehow being “bad.” As much as I love history, there are parts of it I am glad no longer hold true.
Writing this book was like eating a huge box of candy, at least to this history geek. The second decade of the nineteenth century was an amazing time in London, in particular the years 1814 to 1815, which saw the two defeats of Napoléon (and the accompanying celebrations). These were the golden years for that London social institution Almack’s, where a group of aristocratic ladies, including the fascinating Lady Jersey, decreed who was “in” and who wasn’t. (I dream of writing a book about Lady Jersey and the Patronesses of Almack’s someday!) Most of the places mentioned in this book were real, including Rotten Row and Carlton House, London home of the Prince Regent. The party at Carlton House, where Sophie and Peregrine quarreled, was based on an actual one, just as smaller details like Sophie’s clothes and the customs of riding at five P.M. in Hyde Park and wearing black gloves when in mourning were part of life at the time. To prevent confusion, I have changed or blurred a few details as a compromise between historical correctness and ease of understanding for today’s readers.
Brussels really was the party capital of Europe in spring 1815, as I have depicted it. English aristocrats swarmed over the Channel after Napoléon’s first defeat in 1814, having been deprived of European travel (and shopping!) for so many years. Between them and the masses of officers sent over to engage in redefeating Napoléon (which they eventually did, at the Battle of Waterloo in June), life in Brussels was a constant succession of balls, concerts, dinners, picnics, breakfasts, routs, and card parties. Even on the eve of the first engagements of the Battle of Waterloo, Brussels partied, and many British officers fought and died still in their evening clothes. If you’re interested in learning more about this time and place, I highly recommend Georgette Heyer’s An Infamous Army (her account of the battle was studied by officers in training at Sandhurst, Britain’s West Point) and Nick Foulkes’s nonfictional but delightfully engaging Dancing into Battle: A Social History of the Battle of Waterloo.
* * *
Particular thanks are due, as always, to my agent, Emily Sylvan Kim, for her unflagging cheer and support, to senior editor Kate Farrell at Henry Holt for her unerring and fabulous editing (thank you so much, Kate, for helping me get out of my own way), as well as to Sarah Dotts Barley and Rebecca Hahn. Profound thanks and my love to Elisabeth Lorin for correcting my execrable French (any infelicities or errors that remain are solely mine), for her gracious hospitality on visits to New York, and for being her warm, wonderful self. For community, camaraderie, fellowship, and information on parakeets I am indebted to the members of Verla Kay’s Blueboards, where I spend far too much online time … but it’s always time well spent. Thank you also to my dear friend, fellow history geek, and source of writerly support, Regina Scott, who has cohosted our teen history blog, Nineteenteen, since 2007 … and thank you to our readers for their continued interest, questions, and suggestions for book titles. And most of all, thank you to my beloved family for enduring my being such a bore about 1815 and for often even joining in my history geekiness.
Marissa Doyle
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Doyle, Marissa.
Courtship and curses / Marissa Doyle.—1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: In 1815, Lady Sophie Rosier’s first London season is marred not only by her physical and emotional scars, but also by magical attacks on her father and other members of the British War Cabinet, and while Sophie’s magical powers are unreliable, she and her new best friend Parthenope decide to investigate—despite the distraction of Parthenope’s handsome cousin.
ISBN 978-0-8050-9187-8 (hc)
[1. Witches—Fiction. 2. Magic—Fiction. 3. People with disabilities—Fiction. 4. Self-acceptance—Fiction. 5. Aristocracy (Social class)—Fiction. 6. Great Britain—History—1800–1837—Fiction. 7. Brussels (Belgium)—History—Fiction. 8. Belgium—History—1814–1830—Fiction.] I. Title.
>
PZ7.D7758Cou 2012
[Fic]—dc23
2011031999
eISBN 978-0-8050-9632-3
First Edition—2012