A dangerous ruse, p.5
A Dangerous Ruse, page 5
Raised voices made them pause and step aside as two solid footmen half escorted, half carried a protesting noble out the front door.
“My betrothed is in there! I must be with her!” The young man struggled to free his arms and kept looking back at the house.
“You weren’t invited, sir,” one footman said as he used both hands to hold on to an arm.
They moved past Sera and Kitty and the footmen released their prisoner at the edge of the path. Nobles whispered and drew themselves away from the troublemaker. The young man made one attempt to dash back in, but a threatening move from the footmen made him reconsider and slink away.
“I’ll wager that was the most exciting part of the night,” Kitty sighed.
Inside, the two women followed the flow of people towards the ballroom. They paused in the doorway and surveyed the room.
“Oh, my,” Kitty whispered and her grip tightened on Sera’s arm.
“I am not the only peacock here tonight,” Sera murmured.
The room swirled in colours from the palest pink to a green so vivid it made one wince. It wasn’t just the women in bright displays; many of the young courtiers attempted to outdo each other with heavily embroidered coats. A woman walked past and her hair chirped. An entire birdcage was crafted into her towering wig, and a songbird clung to a wildly swinging perch.
“Poor thing.” Sera formed a quick spell in her mind and set it free with a swipe of her finger. A tiny gilded door popped open and the bird, needing no other encouragement, took flight and headed straight for an open window. She closed the little door behind it.
“The bird or the woman? Can you imagine carrying that weight around on your head all night? How will she dance?” Kitty pulled Sera to one side as another couple swept into the room.
Sera craned to look over the tops of heads, seeking Lady Abigail. A whispered finding spell, aided by conjuring her friend’s face in her mind, created a strand of pink smoke that drifted across the room.
“Found her!” The smoke curled into itself and created a vertical spiral dangling from the ceiling above the third member of their trio. Sera steered Kitty through the crowd and towards the sign only she could see.
Tonight, Lady Abigail resembled a blushing rose, her gown in tones of pink, beige, and the softest green. Even her hair was powdered a delicate shade of pink and then garlanded in blush-pink roses. The three friends conducted the odd ritual their social standing demanded. Kitty curtseyed to Abigail, who dipped her knees to Sera. In return, Sera nodded and took her friend’s hand.
“I feel better equipped to navigate these treacherous waters with your help, Abigail,” Sera said.
Abigail squeezed her hand. “You will do fine. Just remember all I have taught you.”
“I intend to find the library as soon as I can,” Kitty muttered.
“Oh, no you don’t. Both of you will dance this evening. Kitty, I have selected a number of appropriate partners for you. Before you curl your lip at me, I am aware of your preferences. One is Lord Huntley, who has some radical approach to managing his tenant farmers you might find intriguing. Another gentleman who would claim your hand for a dance is the Marquess of Loburn. I believe he wishes to discuss workhouse reformation with you. Is that not so, Lord Loburn?” Abigail raised her voice as the lord in question made a beeline for them.
Lord Loburn’s eyes widened and his gaze sparkled. “Workhouse reformation? Oh, yes. A subject dear to my heart.” His attention slid to Kitty as he bowed before them.
“The treatment of widows and orphans in this country is quite appalling. As a nation, we should strive to implement a minimum standard of care for all our citizens.” Kitty held out her gloved hand, and Lord Loburn took it as though she offered him a great treasure.
Sera noticed the distinct absence of drool, since Lord Loburn possessed a fortune of his own and obviously enjoyed Kitty’s company. The two quickly fell to discussing some proposed piece of legislation with their heads bent together, and barely noticed Abigail leading Sera away.
“Do not think to escape, my friend. I have several dance partners in mind for you, too,” Abigail murmured as they strolled the edges of the room.
“You need not go to any trouble on my behalf.” As much as Sera loved Abigail, she didn’t like this new development of insisting they all needed to marry. An idea took form in her head, one in which Sera and Kitty established their own household and hosted dinner parties where everyone conversed about topics that affected all of society. Once they found someone to keep Mr Napier company, of course. Like a dear friend of his departed wife, perhaps?
“Do you know which lady is Lady Tinwald’s mother?”
“Lady Tinwald?” Abigail tapped her bottom lip with her fan. “If I remember correctly, it is Lady Plimmerton. Why do you ask?”
“Oh, no reason.” Sera tucked away the name. She would send Elliot to find out what he could discover before she raised the topic with Kitty.
“Here is the Austrian delegation. There is a key member I wish to introduce to you.” Abigail gestured with her fan towards a loud group of men and women.
Many of the women had highly elaborate and tall hairstyles, but rather than the white powdered style favoured by many nobles, the Austrian pieces were powdered in pink, purple, and blue. The men were more subdued in their hair and clothing, although not by much.
Abigail circled the group, then approached a man who looked to be in his early thirties. He fell silent as they neared but had a curious expression on his face.
“Seraphina, Duchess Winyard, may I introduce the Margrave Otto Zedlitz from Austria. A margrave is similar to our marquess.”
Of a similar height to her, Zedlitz sported a fine moustache of a light brown that curled at the ends, and thick brown curly hair. He wore a deep blue jacket with white trim that gave him a nautical air. Intelligence gleamed in his hazel eyes. He snapped his heels together and bowed over her hand.
“I am honoured to meet you, Lady Winyard.” His continental accent made him appear all the more charming.
“Lady Winyard is the newest mage to come of age in England and she is much sought after in company,” Abigail said, giving her friend a little push towards the Austrian noble.
Interest sparkled in Lord Zedlitz’s eyes. “I am honoured to converse with a mage. They are not seen much in our country, and are either found at the emperor’s side, or hiding in their towers. But we have heard of you even in Austria, Lady Winyard.”
Sera doubted good news would travel that far. The Austrians had probably been told her magic amounted to little more than parlour tricks.
“I shall leave Lady Winyard in your care, Lord Zedlitz. If you’ll excuse me, Seraphina, I have spotted Lord Methven and I must speak with him.” Abigail rolled her eyes at the Austrian, winked, and then took her leave.
From reading the not-so-subtle clues, Sera gathered she was supposed to make a good impression on the margrave, although his name hadn’t appeared on the short list prepared by the Mage Council. She probably shouldn’t turn him into a squirrel should he prove terribly boring. She would play along with Abigail’s game in this instance. Wouldn’t it be fun to torment the Mage Council into thinking she had decided on a foreign husband?
The thought made her smile. “I hope you have been made welcome to our shores, Lord Zedlitz. Will you be with us long?”
He stepped closer to her side. “Ja. For some three months. The emperor has tasked me to negotiate a treaty between England and the Hapsburg empire regarding wool, which I am sure will be very tedious and boring. I am accompanied by my mother, who thinks an English rose might make a fine wife for my rather lonely castle.”
That explained Abigail’s interest—a noble on the hunt for a bride. “A castle? Well, I am sure many an English gentlewoman will find a castle hard to refuse. I imagine it must be a particularly beautiful one nestled in the Austrian scenery.” How she longed to travel and see not only England, but the world beyond her borders.
“I believe it is the most beautiful, especially when it snows. Then it looks like a picture from a storybook. Frightfully cold, though. I do wish mages could conjure up some way of heating draughty old castles.” His eyes crinkled as he smiled.
“I shall make a study of it. I’m sure many of us would prefer warmer homes during the depths of winter.” How hard could it be to find a more efficient way to heat a home than an open fire? Especially in rooms with no fireplace. Every winter she had worn mittens in Branvale’s windowless workroom.
“I would be most interested in what you discover. I am sure many nobles would pay handsomely for such magic.” A few around them nodded and shared stories of ice forming on the insides of their windows in winter.
“Otto!” A shrill voice cut through the conversation and Lord Zedlitz winced. He pressed his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose.
“Is everything all right, Lord Zedlitz?” Sera cast around for the owner of the voice, who seemed to think the duchess’s ballroom a fish market, and that the Austrian lord should run to her side like a lost dog.
A short, stout woman with white powdered hair and a gown of pale yellow, covered in what appeared to be embroidered birch branches, bustled towards them. “Otto!” She waved her hand at him in a come here gesture, even as she neared the edge of the group.
The younger people parted to allow her through. One woman muttered, “Die vettel,” in her wake and the man next to her muttered agreement under his breath.
Sera wondered what the words meant, but found she had a more immediate problem.
The older woman stopped before them. She possessed a downturned mouth, as though she found life a perpetual disappointment. Her top lip curled as she narrowed her gaze at Sera. “Who is this, Otto? This is not one of the women I approved.”
Lord Zedlitz drew an audible long breath, and Sera had the distinct impression he was counting to ten in his head. “Lady Winyard, may I present my mother, the Dowager Margravine Zedlitz.”
Ah. An overbearing mother who was used to yelling along draughty castle corridors. Sera inclined her head. As the equivalent of a marchioness, the older woman was below Sera’s new rank.
The older woman glared. “You must curtsey to me.”
“I am a duchess, Lady Zedlitz, and curtsey only to the queen.” Sera pulled her lips into a tight smile.
“Not by birth. You are a commoner. My blood runs blue in my veins.” The words spat from the other woman like small cannonballs. Now that Sera considered her, she did have the stoutness of a cannon.
“Mutter.” Lord Zedlitz uttered the single word as a sharp retort. “Do not be rude to England’s only female mage.”
“She is rude and must curtsey.” She snaked out a hand, grabbing Sera’s wrist. A gasp rolled off those around them.
Sera’s knees shook and of their own volition, started to buckle. Where Lady Zedlitz clung to her, a thin silver thread wormed between them and dug into Sera. A flash of sickening recognition flared inside her stomach. She wrenched her hand back and slapped her palm over the thread.
As she lurched from side to side, both to fight the compulsion and rid her body of the sliver of magic, Lord Zedlitz caught her elbow and steadied her. “Lady Winyard, are you well?”
Muttering under her breath, Sera froze the strand and pulled it from her body. Dropping it unseen to the floor, she ground it under her shoe while she regained her composure. “Thank you, Lord Zedlitz. I caught my heel in my gown.”
Rage coloured Sera’s vision. The older woman sought to compel her with a method similar to the ensorcellment that had once dampened her magic! But from what Sera knew, Lady Zedlitz did not possess any magic in her blue-blooded veins. That meant she must have an item about her person that exerted a magical influence. Sera examined the other woman, searching for what had almost forced her to curtsey. Red light glinted from under several strands of diamonds on her left wrist.
“My, what an unusual bracelet.” Sera brushed a strand of magic over Lady Zedlitz’s arm and pulled back the diamonds to expose a cuff of copper some four inches wide and carved with an ornate swirling vine. Each tip held a small bud set with a tiny diamond chip. If the other woman would tell her where she had acquired it, Sera could discover what mage had constructed the bracelets—for surely both had been cast by the same hand?
The margrave’s mother brushed the diamonds back over the plainer item. “It is nothing. A pretty design, that is all. Foolish, but I forgot to remove it when dressing this evening.”
Lord Zedlitz huffed. “I have never known you to take it off, Mutter, since it passed from Oma. I think it must be of great sentimental value to you.”
“Come, Otto. I have found a meek woman who would fit into our household and who knows her proper place.” She took her son’s arm and practically wrenched him away from Sera. A glint of silver betrayed a thread that disappeared through Lord Zedlitz’s jacket under his mother’s firm grip.
The Austrian lord’s demeanour changed. His shoulders sagged and the smile fell away from his face. In a dull voice, he intoned, “Ja, Mutter.”
A shudder raced down Sera’s spine as the margrave was sapped of his own free will. She pitied the meek woman upon whom Lady Zedlitz had set her mind, who might likewise be forced to do the older woman’s bidding. In England, the Mage Council had strict rules against meddling in people’s minds. Lady Zedlitz needed to learn that such behaviour would not be tolerated on English soil.
Sera could solve two issues with a few quiet words whispered into the receptive ear of Queen Charlotte. The queen could rebuke Lady Zedlitz for forcing people to act against their wishes. And she could also demand to know the origins of the bracelet.
Six
Spotting Sera standing alone after the Austrians dispersed, Lady Abigail sent over another candidate to dance with her. Sera failed to see Lord Zedlitz again that evening. She pleaded sore feet in order to remove herself from the dance floor and set off to find Kitty, who didn’t appear to be availing herself of Abigail’s carefully selected partners, either.
At length she came upon her friend in the library with a group of men. Lord Loburn stood on one side, and the half-Fae Arwyn Fitzfey, natural son of the king, on the other. The group appeared to be engaged in a heated discussion.
“What are you afraid of, gentlemen, that you keep the vote from your fellow Englishmen and women?” Kitty asked.
“The country will go to ruin if the uneducated are allowed to make ill-informed decisions,” a lord replied with such passion he waved the glass in his hand, spilling a little liquid on the floor.
“Then is not education the answer?” Kitty shot back.
A titter of laughter ran around the group. Lord Loburn cleared his throat. “I believe Miss Napier makes an excellent point. Would not our society and economy improve if every child were educated?”
“Imagine if all men were equal, in both education and wealth,” Arwyn said.
“Careful, Fitzfey, you’re sounding a lot like those revolutionaries over in France,” another noble warned.
Laughter erupted and Sera took the chance to tuck her hand into Kitty’s elbow. “Gentlemen, I’m afraid I must steal Miss Napier away for a moment.”
“Of course, Lady Winyard. Always a pleasure to hear your opinions, Miss Napier. I hope it is not too long before our next meeting.” Lord Loburn raised his glass to her and the circle echoed the sentiment.
“Are you inciting a revolution?” Sera whispered as they slipped away.
Casting a backwards glance, she noticed two gentlemen in particular watched her friend leave, despite the way she undervalued herself.
Kitty snorted. “As unfair as it is, men like those are the ones who hold the vote. I need to convince them first of the need for change, if we are to claim any power in this country. Unless you can do it with magic?” When Sera shook her head, Kitty went on, undaunted. “I can’t tell you how refreshing it is to find a bunch of nobles who can hold a decent conversation and overlook the fact that I’m wearing a dress.”
“I need to call upon the power of your mighty mind with a question about the Hapsburg nobles. What can you tell me about the Margrave Zedlitz?” Sera asked.
“From what I recollect Father saying, he has a large tract of land in Austria and a rather beautiful castle perched upon it. High up in their nobility and favoured at the emperor’s court, he is wealthy and considered quite the catch.” Kitty leaned away to study Sera. “Not considering leaving our shores for the delights of schnitzel, are you?”
“Schnitzel?” Sera’s tongue stumbled over the unfamiliar word as the conversation took an unexpected turn.
Kitty grinned. “A few of the ladies are whispering about it. Apparently it’s a fried and breaded Austrian dish and quite the treat, if he offers it to you.”
Sera wondered if Rosie would like such a recipe. Elliot would no doubt volunteer as taste tester. “No, I was not pondering the margrave’s schnitzel delights. Rather, the bracelet his mother wears. It is very similar to the one I used to wear and is likewise imbued with magic.”
Kitty pursed her lips. “Jewellery is not my area of expertise. We could consult Lady Abigail—her grandfather might know something of magical jewellery?”
Sera knew little of the old mage. He had retired from the Mage Council some years ago, preferring to spend his time in quiet study. With Abigail by her side, she could seek an audience with the elderly gentleman to ask his advice.
But locating their friend in the overcrowded ballroom and overflowing mansion proved more difficult than she expected. Even Sera’s finding spell failed, and the pink smoke clung to the ceiling like a frightened child hugging its mother’s leg. Eventually, Sera and Kitty arrived back at the main entrance hall as a clock struck twice.
Sera stifled a yawn, and an ache took up residence in her feet. “I shall ask next time I see her. As much as I want to sate my curiosity, it is a matter better suited to a private discussion.”
