“Oh,” said Dora, and she was suddenly so dizzy that she found it hard to breathe. “But I am amenable.”
“But I am not amenable!” Lord Hollowvale declared furiously. “You may not marry my English daughter.” He narrowed his pale blue eyes. “And you are not Lord Longshadow at all, are you? You do not sound like him in the least.”
The marquess gestured violently at Elias, and Dora felt something snap in the air between them. Dora still could not look up at Elias, but she suspected that his disguise had been unceremoniously torn away.
“I am Elias Wilder, His Majesty’s court magician and Lord Sorcier of England,” Elias said in a grim tone. “You have stolen several citizens of England, and it is my duty to take them back from you.”
“How dare you!” Lord Hollowvale said, and the air grew chilly with his power. “I have stolen nothing and no one! I have paid fairly for every English citizen that I have taken!”
“It is illegal to buy and sell human beings in England,” Elias said. “It has been against the law since 1807, in fact.”
“The creatures that I have bought do nothing here that they would not be doing in England!” Lord Hollowvale hissed stubbornly. “I have been nothing but charitable to the ungrateful wretches. You shall not come into my home and impugn my virtue, you mongrel changeling creature!”
“Oh!” Lord Blackthorn’s voice rang out with amusement, and Dora saw him standing very close by within the crowd, with Theodora leaning faintly on his shoulder. “But Lord Hollowvale—you are addressing the most virtuous man in all of England! I have heard it most reliably!”
This only made the marquess’ face grow darker and more forbidding. “I do not believe it for a moment!” he said. “What a preposterous idea! Look at the sorry state of his boots! And he is wearing only one jacket, you see!”
Dora’s other half was flickering in and out of view in a very strange way. Dora saw a frayed red thread extending between Theodora and herself, and she realised that whatever Elias had done to her sight, it had shown her more than just the invisible faeries around her. Even as Dora watched, the red thread began to strengthen and contract.
She glanced back towards Lord Hollowvale and saw more than a dozen red threads tied about his arms and fingers. I must cut those threads, she realised. I cannot wait until I am whole again, or it will be too late.
Dora forced herself to stand on her own two feet, though the effort was extreme. She clutched in her hand the leather sheath that Elias had given her, feeling the cold touch of the iron scissors against her palm.
Elias released her. “I suppose that we must duel then,” he supplied helpfully. “For I intend to marry Dora and take her and those children home. And you must protect your honour, for I have accused you of the crime of slavery.”
“How exciting!” Lord Blackthorn said. “I have always wanted to see an English duel. I shall play second for the Lord Sorcier, then!”
Lord Hollowvale’s pale eyes flickered with rage. “I need no second,” he declared. “For this duel will be over in only a moment.”
Dora slipped her way back through the shadows of the crowd, trying to angle herself around Lord Hollowvale’s back. There was a burst of arctic chill, and she ducked her head with a gasp. Frost crackled its way along the marble floor, curling in fanciful designs beneath her feet. Her slippers gave her little traction, and she was forced to drop to her knees to keep from falling on her face.
A hand grasped tightly at her arm, and Dora glanced back in surprise. Lady Mourningwood had followed to try and seize her; the baroness’ coal-black eyes seethed with alien fury.
But Dora had begun to remember a hundred hundred lessons with the awful faerie woman, and her emotions were now so keen that she could feel Theodora nearby, staggering to her feet. Her other half leapt forward onto Lady Mourningwood’s back with a furious cry.
“I will tear out your eyes, you evil creature!” Theodora yelled.
Dora wrenched her arm free of the baroness, just as a hiss of blistering heat threw back the unnatural frost. It was the brilliant fire that Elias had wielded upon the battlefield in France—and as dreadful as the marquess’ power was, Dora thought that the faerie had never dared to take on whole armies of men, nor had he fought through the sting of such terrible injuries as Elias had felt.
Perhaps Elias will win, Dora thought hopefully. He has killed one faerie lord already, after all.
She crawled her way free of the crowd, just behind Lord Hollowvale. The crimson strands that surrounded him were taut with power; Dora knew that it would take barely a snip from her scissors to set them loose. He would notice her then, of course, but he would have to turn his attention from the duel in order to do anything about it.
Dora pulled the cold iron scissors from their sheathe... but as she approached the first red strand, she found herself hesitating.
No, she thought sadly. This will not do.
You are right. She felt Theodora agree with her weakly. We must be better than this, for everyone’s sake.
Dora lifted the scissors between both hands—and stabbed them down into Lord Hollowvale’s back, just over his heart.
The faerie staggered forward in shock. Bright red blood began to dribble from the injury, much faster than Dora had anticipated. An awful nausea rose within her stomach, but she held onto the scissors and dug them in more deeply still.
The unnatural chill that had surrounded him began to fade. Dora looked up and met Elias’ eyes for the first time since he had entered. There was a stricken expression on his face, and she wondered if he suspected the full consequences of what she had done.
“I am not well-versed in English duels,” Lord Blackthorn observed. “But I am sure that young ladies are not supposed to stab the participants!”
Lord Hollowvale collapsed to the floor, clutching uselessly at his chest. Dora stared down at him with a mixture of grief and sadness and disgust at her own actions. Thick, sticky blood covered her hands, and the texture of it was very different from punch indeed.
“I did not agree to any duels,” Dora said softly.
Lord Hollowvale stared up at her with trembling, blood-flecked lips. “I have... only ever... been charitable to you,” he whispered.
Dora blinked back hideous tears. “I am sure that every evil man believes himself to be charitable,” she told him. “In that respect, at least, you are a true Englishman.”
The marquess shuddered once... and then went still.
Very slowly, his body began to dissipate into a calm, cold mist. The crimson strings that had attached themselves to the marquess began to waver dangerously.
Theodora struggled towards Dora, staggering into her arms. “I have killed my father,” Dora’s other half declared to the gathering in a shaky voice. “From this point forward, you shall call me Lady Hollowvale!”
Theodora reached her hands into the mist and grasped at it with her fingers.
“Don’t!” Elias said quickly. He leapt forward to try and stop her—but he was far too late.
The crimson strands that had been wavering before suddenly attached themselves to Theodora’s arms and fingers. Her form, which had been halfway insubstantial, strengthened and solidified. Cold power wove its way through her soul and crossed the strand that still connected her to Dora, who felt it like a cold, wet mist upon her heart.
Dora hit her knees with a gasp. The memories of Hollowvale and the bright, vivid emotions that had only just begun to bubble up within her were abruptly torn away again. The sharp fear and ugly horror at her own actions faded away into a dull, distant sadness.
“I will release your strand,” Theodora said to Dora. Great tears trickled down her face, displaying the grief that Dora knew she truly felt. “And all of the children who still live. The others shall be loved and taken care of, for as long as they desire to stay.”
Dora nodded listlessly. “You have taken the harder path,” she said softly. “Thank you.”
“It is not so hard,” T
heodora said with a sob. “We are closer than ever. As long as you are content, I shall be happy too. So you must do your best on that score, please.”
Elias hurried towards them both with horror still evident on his face. He grabbed at Dora, who was still covered in blood. “What have you done?” he whispered to her. “What have you done, Dora? You will never be whole again.”
Dora smiled wanly at him. “You spent so long trying to save all of those children, only to feel like you were killing them yourself. Neither of us could bear that thought. Just this once, you must let me help you, since it was in my power to do so.” She met his eyes again. “This is my small evil to vanquish, Elias.”
Dora became aware of the feeling of warm sunlight and cotton against her skin. Elias held her close, and she caught the brief scent of sweet myrrh—before her eyes opened once more, and she found herself in a bed at Mrs Dun’s orphanage.
Chapter 19
Dora was not alone.
“Miss Ettings! You’re awake!” Albert’s bewildered voice came from her lefthand side, where Elias had been sitting before. He reached out to help her sit upright. “Has Elias succeeded, then?”
Dora blinked slowly. She had a headache, and her stomach felt mostly empty, but she did not feel in terrible health otherwise. “He has,” she said dimly. She glanced towards the other bed, where Abigail had begun to stir. “But you must help Abigail, please. She is probably far weaker than I am.”
Albert hastened towards the other girl’s bed with a gasp. Abigail mumbled in confusion, but she accepted the water that he offered her and submitted tiredly to his checkup. Dora found some water of her own, then stumbled her way down the stairs towards the kitchen in her nightgown. There she found Mrs Dun, who was even now rocking a freshly-woken newborn in her arms.
“Mrs Dun?” Dora asked calmly. “I don’t mean to trouble you, but could we have a bit to eat when you are able?”
It was a good hour before the resulting furor died down at all. Dora found herself plied with plenty of food and liquids and then shoved unceremoniously back into bed “to rest.”
“But I have already been sleeping, haven’t I?” she asked.
“You have been sleeping without proper fuel,” Albert told her seriously. “Now you must give your body a chance to use what you have given it.” Abigail, for her part, had already fallen right back asleep, and Dora had to admit that there was some small amount of logic to the idea.
Whatever Albert’s intentions, he was not to have his wish—for Vanessa showed up soon enough, and Dora’s cousin insisted on seeing her immediately.
“Oh, you are all right!” Vanessa sobbed, as she launched herself at Dora and dragged her into an embrace. “I was so worried, but they would not let me near you at all once they took you away!”
“Miss Ettings was under quarantine,” Albert told Vanessa seriously. “It would hardly do for you to get engaged to my brother and then fall asleep forever, Miss Vanessa.”
“So you are engaged?” Dora asked distantly. “How wonderful, Vanessa. I hope I will be able to come to your wedding.”
“Why shouldn’t you be able to?” Vanessa asked, bewildered. “I wrote your invitation to the wedding brunch first of all, Dora! Oh—don’t tell Mother that, she will be upset that she was not first, I am sure.”
Dora frowned. “The countess will not give me a room anymore,” she said. “And Auntie Frances would like me to return to the country, she said.”
Vanessa gasped. “Those awful women!” she said—and it was such an uncharacteristic exclamation from Dora’s sweet cousin that even Albert shot her a bewildered look. “They will not dare!” Vanessa declared. “I am sure that Lady Carroway would let you stay with her, at least until the wedding.”
Dora could not help but smile at that. “Engagement has made you bold,” she said. “It suits you very well, Vanessa.”
“I will ask Miss Jennings if she would be kind enough to keep Miss Ettings company while she is in residence with my mother,” Albert said.
Dora glanced his way. “Your mother shall more than suffice as a chaperone, Mr Lowe,” she said slowly.
Albert blinked, and Dora could swear that there was suddenly a faint flush to his cheeks. “Oh,” he said. “Yes, I suppose that is so.”
Dora raised an eyebrow at him. “...but I would be more comfortable with Miss Jennings about, of course. I have grown very fond of her company, and your mother cannot be about at all hours. I am sure that Lady Carroway has a wedding to help plan.”
Albert laughed sheepishly. “How generous of you, Miss Ettings,” he murmured.
So Albert has fallen for my chaperone, Dora thought with bemusement. That shall be the scandal of the Season, I am sure. Somehow, she doubted that either party would much care about the scandal involved.
“You really must leave Miss Ettings to rest,” Albert told Vanessa with a slight cough. “I promise, I will see her back to Carroway House as soon as Miss Jennings is able to arrive.”
Vanessa took her leave only reluctantly. Once she had gone, Dora found herself blinking sleep away.
“Elias is not back then,” she observed wearily. “I suppose that makes sense. I came straight back, but he must leave faerie by a longer road.”
“You really were in faerie?” Albert asked softly. “How strange that must have been.”
“No,” Dora murmured. “It was terribly familiar, in fact. I think that must have been the worst part, Mr Lowe.” But Dora laid her head back down upon the pillow, and suddenly could not stay awake for even a moment longer—she fell into a deep sleep once again.
As she slept, she dreamt of Hollowvale, with its broad ballrooms and misty gardens. Dora wandered the halls of Charity House and found them much-changed; the few children that remained there ran about shrieking with cheerful laughter, building forts from the furniture and playing hide-and-seek.
A bubble of joy grew within her chest as she watched them, and she knew that she had no regrets.
When Dora woke in the middle of the night, she found Abigail to be somewhat more lucid. The little girl had sit herself up in bed with her arms around her legs; she was staring out the window with great concentration.
“Abigail,” Dora said. “Are you feeling better?”
The little girl turned her head and blinked. “Better’n ever,” she said. “Can’t remember the last time someone let me sleep as much as I liked.” She hesitated, then added: “Mrs Dun says it won’t be forever. She said I’ll have chores eventually, an’ lessons.”
Dora smiled at that. “A few chores and lessons are not so bad,” she said. “At the very least, there will be no picking oakum.”
Abigail was silent for a long moment. “...is Lord Hollowvale dead?” she asked quietly.
Dora blinked slowly. “Yes,” she said. “But how did you know?”
“I felt him die, I think,” Abigail said. “It’s the only reason I’ve been sleepin’ all right.”
Dora looked down at her hands in her lap. They were quite clean, though they did not feel that way. There had been no blood on them even when she first awoke. “I killed him,” she admitted softly. “I did not know that I was capable of such a thing. And now, I do not know if I will ever be able to cry over it.”
Abigail swung herself down from her bed and headed over towards Dora. She climbed into her lap and hugged her tightly.
“I’d have killed Master Ricks if I could,” Abigail offered quietly. “I’ll never get the chance to try, I figure. Mr Lowe says he was arrested for black magic.”
Dora nodded dully. “I know that I would regret it even more if I had not killed Lord Hollowvale,” she said. “But either way, it still feels very awful.”
Abigail had nothing to say to that. She stayed with Dora for the rest of the night though, and eventually they both fell asleep once more.
Miss Jennings was just as overjoyed to see Dora when she next awoke, though the ex-governess managed to be somewhat more somber about the entire affair. Do
ra learned that Miss Jennings had volunteered to help keep watch over her in spite of the quarantine, but Albert had shooed her sternly away instead.
“But I do not understand why it is you need me at Carroway House,” Miss Jennings admitted in puzzlement, during the carriage ride back. “Surely, no one could think that Lady Carroway is an unsuitable chaperone?”
Dora glanced towards Albert, still sitting on the other side of the carriage, and she smiled serenely. “I may yet have someone come courting,” she said. “But until then, I suppose that we shall just be enjoying your company.” She paused. “Though interested parties had better make themselves known in a hurry, I would say.”
“Indeed,” Albert mumbled, shaking his head. “Your point is well-taken, Miss Ettings.”
Miss Jennings knitted her brow, but did not inquire further.
Lady Carroway was there to greet them when they arrived. The older woman insisted on seeing Dora directly to her room and tucking her into bed, in spite of Dora’s protests that she had slept and slept already.
“You must not come down ill again!” Lady Carroway told her sternly. “You may do as you like—you may even have visitors—but you must do it from your bed for at least a while yet!”
Dora could not bring herself to protest overmuch. There was something comforting about being so worried over, and the maids had put warm bricks in the bed to heat it up for her feet. Eventually, it occurred to her that someone must have brought over her things from Hayworth House, for her dresses were hanging in the closet very neatly.
“I wrestled them away from Mother,” Vanessa told Dora, when she inevitably came to visit. “I can see it now, how guilty she is feeling. It’s why she would not come to see you, though I know that she wanted to.”
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