Alana smiled, very slightly. “I thought we should talk,” she said. “And I thought you’d want to thank me.”
“I suppose I do owe you some thanks,” I said, dryly. “How many other people know about Francis and Lindsey?”
“As far as I know, just us.” Alana shrugged. “But they picked a stupid place for their tryst.”
I nodded. Francis had been lucky, luckier than he deserved. Anyone could have walked in and seen them ... and not all of them could be convinced, through force or bribes, to keep their mouths shut. We would have been in real trouble if the McDonalds had caught him. They could have blackmailed him into ... anything. I didn’t fancy Francis’s chances if Lord Richard challenged him to a duel.
And we still are in real trouble, I thought. Alana knows.
I took a breath. “What do you want?”
“In exchange for my silence?” Alana smiled. “I don’t want anything. I merely thought we should ... help each other, just a little.”
“A little,” I repeated. If she didn’t want anything ... I didn’t believe it. Everyone wanted something. Father had said that, time and time again. And he’d made a point of warning me that not everyone would say what they wanted. Sometimes it was just embarrassing. Sometimes it was banned even to people of our high rank. “How should we help each other?”
Alana sat upright, resting her hands on her lap. “You and I will rule our houses,” she said, flatly. “And you are going to marry my sister. There are too many ... things ... resting on the match for it not to go ahead. You and Cat will get married if our families have to use compulsion spells to force you to exchange vows.”
I flushed. I knew just how much was riding on the marriage, but hearing it put so bluntly ... I shuddered. I hadn’t known, not really, what I was doing when I agreed. The marriage had seemed so far in the future that it might never happen. And now ... now the marriage was looming in the very near future. I wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Cat and I were close - or as close as we could be, given our chaperones - but did we want to get married? Did she want to marry me?
“You can’t compel someone into a marriage,” I said, playing for time. “And you can’t force us to ...”
My face reddened. Alana smirked. It struck me, suddenly, that she was lucky. She could blush all she liked and no one would see it, not on her dark skin. I swallowed hard, burying my anger and schooling my face into a mask. Alana could probably see through it, but ... I gritted my teeth. She was right. We would be working together, closely together, after we inherited our respective houses.
A thought struck me. “Is your father planning to die? Or retire?”
“Dad has been talking about retiring soon,” Alana said, calmly. “And ... you never know what might happen tomorrow.”
“No.” I eyed her for a long moment. It had been a point of faith in my family that our rivals lived in a den of vipers, ever ready to backstab each other for a smidgeon of power. Stregheria Aguirre had certainly stabbed her entire family in the back in a desperate bid for power ... power she could hardly have enjoyed for long before old age finally caught up with her. “And you’re right. We have to plan for the future.”
“You and I and Cat will discuss it, soon,” Alana said. “She really does like you, you know.”
I looked down, feeling ... I wasn’t sure how I felt. Cat wouldn’t have been allowed any more freedom than myself. She wouldn’t have been introduced to any eligible young men ... she didn’t even have any friends at the Workshop, no men who shared her talent or her zest for forging. Did she like me for myself? Or did she like me because there couldn’t be any other men in her life as long as the betrothal was in effect?
Alana pointed a finger at me. “And if you hurt her, I’ll show you something terrible.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “You think Cat can’t take care of herself?”
“She’s too decent.” Alana smiled, but it didn’t touch her eyes. “She won’t punish you as you deserve.”
“You were horrible to her.” Cat had told me a few things, all horrific. Alana had put her sister in mortal danger, time and time again. And she might not even have realised - sometimes - what she’d done. “And you presume to lecture me on morality?”
Alana’s eyes narrowed. “I know what I did,” she said. “I ... I know.”
She smiled, suddenly. “And what are you going to do when people start courting your sister?”
“Isabella can take care of herself.” I yawned, helplessly. “And she’d be angry if I suggested otherwise.”
And very few people will want to marry her, not now, I added in the privacy of my own mind, although I was sure Alana knew it as well as I did. Isabella was disgraced. She was unlikely to inherit anything when our father died. Anyone who goes courting her will draw a lot of attention to himself.
I rubbed my eyes. I was out of my depth. And I knew it.
“I have to go to bed,” I said. “Chat tomorrow?”
“Of course.” Alana gave me a sweet smile. “And you can swap detention shifts with me tomorrow, as a sign of your thanks.”
I snorted. “I don’t know if I should be thanking you or hexing you.”
“Both, probably.” Alana stood, brushing down her nightgown. I tried not to look. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
She strode away. I looked down at my hands, my thoughts churning. Francis had done something stupid, Alana had tipped me off to it ... my head spun as I tried to understand the implications. Was Alana trying to help? Or hinder? Or ... I felt a flicker of reluctant admiration as I realised just how well everything had worked out for Alana. She’d helped and hindered me at the same time. And I couldn’t even be angry.
I need help, I thought.
I stood and walked into my bedroom, closing and locking the door behind me. My original privacy wards were still in place - no one had tried to breach them, as far as I could tell - but I took ten minutes to strengthen them anyway before sitting down at my writing desk. It was a curiously feminine design, very similar to my mother’s private desk ... I wondered, suddenly, if the rooms had been swapped at some point. Or if no one outside the very highest families really cared. There was no real need to buy separate desks for separate tasks.
Shaking my head, I produced a piece of charmed notepaper and wrote out a short message to Isabella. I didn’t dare write too much down - I didn’t know who else would be reading the letter - but it was easy enough to invite her to the potions fair. It was, technically, outside the bounds of Shallot. Isabella could travel there, if she wished ... in theory. It depended on just how much of a fuss the family council made about it. Father wouldn’t be pleased.
I need help, I reminded myself, as I finished the letter. I’d pay a younger student to post it, somewhere outside the school. And she might be the only one who can advise me.
My heart was pounding like a drum as I sealed the letter in an envelope and added a handful of charms that were borderline dark. No one, save for Isabella herself, should be able to open the envelope without destroying the contents. She and I shared blood ... in theory, even Father wouldn’t be able to open the letter. In theory ... I swallowed, hard. I could get in real trouble for trying to communicate with Isabella covertly, rather than sending the letters through the family council. It would be hard to deny that I’d set out to keep them from reading the letter first.
I need help, I thought, again. And I need advice.
I placed the letter on the desk, then undressed, showered and went to bed. It felt as if no time had passed before the alarm charm jerked me awake at seven o’clock. I rubbed my eyes, wondering if I could get away with skipping my early-morning classes. I wanted to go back to sleep. But I was Head Boy. I had to set a good example. And besides, Magister Grayson would probably march up to my room, drag me out of bed and carry me back down to the classroom. He rarely tolerated excuses for skipping class. If you were on your deathbed, you’d better bring your deathbed with you.
I chuckled at the
thought, then hastily sent vapour messages to the rest of the team. Francis might have told them ... told them what? He wasn’t stupid enough to tell them what he’d been doing, was he? Who knew what they’d do, if they knew? But he could have told them a lie? I shaped the spell, asking the team to meet me in a study room after breakfast and then went for another shower. There was no sign of Alana when I dressed and left the room. I was relieved. I didn’t have the time for another round of conversational combat. I’d never really had the patience for subtle compliments, insults and barbed bon mots.
There were two firsties in the study room when I arrived, desperately flicking through their textbooks before class. I told them to go to breakfast - it was clear they hadn’t eaten anything - and took a chair, waiting. The rest of the team slowly gathered, their faces puzzled. Francis hadn’t told them anything, I guessed. Even Harvard seemed bemused. He didn’t know what was going on.
“Sit down,” I said, as I cast a privacy ward. It was a brute-force spell - my ears popped as the spell flared into life - but it would keep us from being spied on, at least for the moment. “We have to talk.”
I allowed my gaze to wander from face to face. Louise looked unsure of herself ... and alarmed. Beside her, Saline looked unperturbed. Tobias was glancing around, as if he expected a blow to fall at any moment; Harvard looked calm and composed, his face an unreadable mask. I felt a flicker of pity, mingled with irritation. Francis could bring a lot of pressure to bear on Harvard, if he wished. Harvard would wind up being caught between us.
“Francis is off the team,” I said, flatly. “The details are none of your concern.”
“Yes, they are.” Louise leaned forward. “If he’s gone, I want to know why.”
I silently kicked myself. If there was anyone who would ask the obvious question, it was Louise. The others ... the others might understand there were things I couldn’t say. But Louise would demand an explanation. Of course she would.
“He was doing something ... indiscreet,” I told her. I turned away before she could demand specifics. “He’s off the team.”
Harvard gave me a sharp look. “For how long?”
“Forever,” I snapped. I wasn’t in the mood to be questioned. “He won’t be coming back.”
“I’ve heard that before.” Harvard looked unconvinced. “Time and time again, from team captains who ...”
I cut him off. “This isn’t a sports match,” I said. I was sick of people who got away with being jerks because they were good at sports. “And I will not deal with someone who ...”
“You may not have a choice,” Harvard pointed out. “All of our plans assumed we’d be fielding six people, not five. And there’s no time to search for a replacement.”
“If Francis was indiscreet,” Saline said, “can we trust him?”
I scowled. I hated to admit it, but Harvard had a point. And so did Saline. We wanted to win. We needed to win. I needed to win. And for that, I might need Francis. And yet ... I didn’t know if I could trust Francis. I’d sooner deal with a declared enemy than someone who was dangerously reckless ... and unpredictable. Francis and Lindsey could have been a lot more discreet. The risk of being caught had probably added to the thrill.
“Right now, it doesn’t matter.” I looked from face to face. “For the moment, Francis is off the team. That puts some of you in an awkward spot. If you want to stay, you are welcome; if you want to quit, then quit now. I swear to you” - I allowed my voice to harden - “that anyone who decides to quit later, over this, will not be forgotten.”
Tobias coughed. “Promises were made ...”
“I’ll keep the ones made to you,” I told him, as his voice trailed off. Those promises would, thankfully, be easy to keep. “Louise, Saline ... I can and I will keep the promises made to you two. Harvard ... I can’t guarantee anything, not the position you wanted or the other things. If you want to quit, then do so.”
“I’m not a quitter,” Harvard said. I could hear the pain in his voice. “And I don’t give up easily.”
I allowed myself a moment of sympathy. Francis could make life very difficult for Harvard, if he wished. Harvard was Francis’s client, to all intents and purposes. Harvard would have no recourse if Francis decided to nominate someone else to succeed him as Sports Captain, unless he claimed Scholar’s Rights and bested Francis in a duel. And even then ... there was a good chance he wouldn’t get the position anyway. Francis would still have a great deal of power.
“You have until the end of today,” I told him. Perhaps I was being generous, but ... no one would be able to say I hadn’t given him a chance. “If you want to quit, I won’t hold it against you. Afterwards ... if you quit later, I swear I will.”
“I understand,” Harvard said. I could see the struggle on his face. “And ... I’ll let you know.”
He left, closing the door behind him. I guessed he’d gone to find Francis, to get his version of the story. Francis would tell him ... I had no idea what he would tell him. The truth? A lie? Or a slanted story designed to cast him as the hero and me as the villain? Or ... I shook my head. It didn’t matter.
“I’ll stay,” Saline said. She smiled, brightly. “We don’t need him.”
“No,” Louise agreed. She gave me a wary look. “Can you assure me he won’t be coming back?”
I opened my mouth, then stopped. I couldn’t give any assurances, could I? Not really.
“I don’t know,” I said, honestly. “And I really don’t know what’s going to happen next.”
Louise looked down. “Of course not,” she murmured. The bitterness in her voice surprised me. “No one does, do they?”
Saline took her arm. “We’ll join you later, for more training,” she said. The bell rang, warning us to be ready for class. She stood, brushing down her skirt. “And if you have to reinstate him, then do it.”
“If you have to,” Louise muttered.
I watched them go, convinced I’d missed something. But what?
Worry about it later, I told myself, as I took down the privacy charm and tidied up the room. It was the kind of job I should have given to a lowerclassman, but I wanted something mindless to do. Right now, you have other problems.
I put the thought aside as the second bell rang. It was time to go. I hurried down the corridor, pausing long enough to give the letter and a crown to a passing fifth-year, then put the matter out of my mind. If Francis wanted to be reinstated, he’d have to grovel. And hopefully, by then, I’d have some advice from my sister. And ...
And even if she can’t tell me anything useful, I thought, it will be good to see her again.
Chapter Twenty-Four
I had expected, on some level, that Francis would have come crawling to me, sooner or later, and begged to be reinstated on the team. I’d had plenty of time to think of what I was going to say to him, when he grovelled to me; I’d come up with all kinds of sarcastic remarks, intending to give him the kind of dressing down my father meted out whenever he got really angry. But Francis hadn’t come crawling to me. He kept his distance, saying nothing the few times we crossed paths. I knew he was stubborn, but ... by the time half-term rolled around, we were still not talking. It was ... odd.
The atmosphere in the carriage, as we rattled our way back to the mansion, was so thick I could have cut it with a knife. Francis and I were sitting on one padded bench, facing Rose and Penny. Penny was carefully not looking at me, Francis was staring out of the window ... poor Rose was caught in the middle, no doubt feeling hopelessly out of place. I was glad of the quiet - I wasn’t in the mood for Penny’s chatter - but I couldn’t help feeling sorry for Rose. She didn’t know what was going on, yet ...
I let out a sigh of relief as the carriage rattled to a stop, the door snapping open a moment later. The footmen were putting the steps in place for the ladies to descend, but I jumped down without waiting. Francis followed me, walked past me and strode into the mansion without looking back. I felt an odd little pang. Francis and I we
ren’t that close, but still ... it hurt, just a little. I held out a hand automatically to help Rose step down, then nodded sharply to Penny. She could get down on her own.
A maid was waiting for us at the top of the steps. “Lord Heir, your father would like to see you in his office.”
“Thank you.” My heart sank. “Please escort the Lady Rose to her chambers.”
The maid curtseyed. “Of course, My Lord.”
I shrugged apologetically at Rose, who didn’t look happy to be left alone with a maid, then hurried into the building. My father would have sensed my presence the moment the carriage crossed the wardline and entered the grounds. He’d know if I dawdled. A handful of children were playing on the stairs, laughing with glee as they slid down the banisters. I felt a pang of envy, mingled with amusement. Life really had been so much simpler when I’d been a little boy. I hadn’t known just how much was going on behind the scenes.
(The Zero Enigma Book 6) The Family Pride Page 24
