Chapter 21

C HAPTER 21

"I'm sorry," Hester said. "I'm sorry I couldn't do anything."

Cordelia looked up, startled. They'd been sitting in the parlor together, not saying much, and it hadn't occurred to her that Hester was quiet because she was feeling guilty. "There's nothing you could have done, though."

"I know," said Hester. "But I'm still sorry. That must be…" She rubbed her hand over her face. "I can't imagine."

Cordelia nodded. That was true. She probably couldn't imagine. But at least she knew that it wasn't Cordelia talking when her mother made her obedient, and that felt important.

She was trying to figure out how to express that when the door opened. Both Hester and Cordelia looked up, suddenly wary, like two mice watching a hawk's shadow pass overhead. But instead of Evangeline, it was a familiar face, though unexpectedly haggard.

"You must forgive me for coming to you in all my dust," said Lord Evermore. There were dark circles under his eyes and a thin layer of road grime across his clothes. He pulled off his riding gloves, slapping them once against his leg, and tossed them on a side table.

"I would forgive you anything, now that you've come back," said Hester, unexpectedly emphatic. Evermore blinked at her, his lips parting, and to Cordelia's surprise, Hester flushed and looked away.

"At any rate," said Evermore, after a moment, "I felt that it was important to speak to you both." He shut the door and drew away. "Willard tells me that there has been quite an upset in my absence."

Hester held up a hand. "Yes. But I can't quite deal with that right now. What have you learned?"

Evermore was silent for a moment. "You were right," he said finally, studying Cordelia with a half frown. "I don't know how you knew, but you were right."

"You'd better begin at the beginning," said Hester. "You found Parker, I take it?"

"Yes." He slumped and rubbed his hand over his face. "Not an easy job, let me tell you. The wardens have been fending off strings of gawkers and alienists and weren't inclined to let another one in. I had to claim to be paying for his lawyer before they'd let me in to see him, so thank you for that, Hester. Now I will have a reputation for bankrolling murderers, which I imagine will serve me wonderfully during the social season."

The ghost of a smile crossed Hester's lips, despite everything. "I wouldn't have asked if it wasn't important."

Richard nodded. "I believe you. And if I hadn't, I would have after I talked to Parker. He's quite sane, as far as anyone can tell, but if you ask why he did it, he gets very agitated. He says he didn't want to, but he can't—or won't—tell anyone why. The wardens told me that if they press too hard, he starts choking, as if he's trying to talk but can't. Eventually he blacks out. They warned me specifically against asking, for just that reason."

Hester nodded to Cordelia. "She did something, then."

"She must have."

Richard glanced between them. "Would you care to explain to me, then?"

"After," said Hester, leaning forward. If they tried to explaining everything all at once, it would become a hopeless muddle. "Finish your story first. What did you learn?"

"I asked him if he knew Lady Evangeline, and he began choking almost at once. I thought the wardens were going to throw me out. Fortunately I backed off and managed to calm him down a little. So then I asked about the carriage." Evermore shook his head slowly. "It was the damnedest thing—beg pardon—"

"I think we're a little past curses by now," said Hester, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. "I'll swear a blue streak later if you like."

"Yes, well. As I said, it was the damnedest thing. He could talk about that. He seized on it. Telling me about his cabriolet and where he bought it and that it was stolen. She took it, he said. He couldn't say who she was. It was like he was fighting to get words out." He turned to Cordelia, his eyes cool and full of questions. " Her, he said. With the white horse."

"And now," said Lord Evermore, "will you explain what the devil is going on? I left a murder behind me and I've come back to a wedding, it seems. Is this revelation going to stop that? Because I will tell you, Hester, that Parker's a slender reed to hang your hopes on. I don't think he's long for this world. If he lasts long enough for them to hang him, I'd be surprised."

Cordelia winced. "Lord Evermore," she said, holding up a hand. "Before that… I have to ask… do you know if anyone survived? Any of his…" She had to stop and swallow. "His daughters, I mean."

Evermore cocked his head, still watching her thoughtfully. She wanted to shrink away from that gaze, but she squared her shoulders. You can't stop your mother if you flinch every time someone looks at you. And he's not angry at you.

"I don't know all of them," Evermore admitted. "I can find out, if it's important. But his two youngest daughters survived, I know that much. Their governess shoved them out the window onto the roof. She was badly injured herself, but seems to have survived."

Ellen was the youngest. Cordelia felt the hard knot in her chest loosen, just a little. Ellen was still alive.

She didn't know how to feel. She wanted to get up and dance around the room or scream or burst into tears. Even though the dead were still dead and it probably shouldn't matter whether she knew them or not, it clearly did matter. Very much. She picked up her cup and took a sip, trying, like many before her, to drown her emotions with tea.

"I promised you an explanation," Hester said. She tugged a bellpull, and a moment later the butler appeared in the doorway, tall and thin as a well-dressed stork. "Willard, can you be certain we aren't disturbed for a bit?"

"I shall see to it personally," he said gravely.

"You're a prince among men."

"I aspire only to be a prince among butlers, my lady." It sounded almost like a joke, but it was delivered so deadpan that Cordelia couldn't be sure until she heard Hester laugh.

The explanation was, of necessity, long and convoluted, even though Hester did most of it. Evermore was particularly appalled by being made obedient, and Cordelia had to explain it at great length. "And you can't move by yourself? At all? Bloody hell. "

"And there we are," said Hester. "And while I was dithering and sending you off to get proof, she convinced my brother to marry her."

Evermore rubbed his face. "How do we stop the wedding?"

"I don't think we do."

Cordelia stared at Hester. So did Evermore. "What? You're suggesting we just let Samuel march to the altar with this—this—"

"Sorcerer," said Hester. "Yes. Because we have no proof, except Cordelia's word and Mr. Parker's condition. Would you believe that, if you were in love with her?"

He slumped back in his chair and raked his hands through his hair. "I'm not sure if I should believe it now. It sounds like a fairy tale." His breath came out in a long whoosh. "If it's true, though, going to Samuel would only tip our hand to Lady Evangeline."

"Precisely. And you've seen what she does when she feels thwarted. It's vital that we don't confront her until we have some way to stop her."

"The old stories say water, wine, and salt—" Evermore began.

"And could you have gotten that down Penelope's throat in the moment?"

"… Shit," said Evermore, and didn't apologize for his language that time.

Cordelia stared into her empty teacup, thinking of all the ways that Hester and Lord Evermore could die at her mother's hands. She could make Hester obedient and make her run down the stairs without her cane. It would look like an ordinary fall. Or she could make Lord Evermore strangle her, or something equally horrific. "If she finds out, it will be very bad."

Evermore looked to Hester. "Do you have something else in mind, then?"

"I do," said Hester slowly, "but it means I must beg a very great favor of you."

"Anything," he said. Looking at him, Cordelia was struck by the thought that he truly meant it.

"I require you to make an offer of marriage."

Evermore blinked at her a few times, and then his face went oddly gentle. He reached out and took Hester's hand with a tenderness that Cordelia felt embarrassed to witness, as if she had looked on something private.

"The offer has always been open," he said. "Always."

It was Hester's turn to be startled. "No," she said, dropping his hand. "No, I didn't mean—oh hang it all, Dick, I need you to marry my young friend here."

There was a brief silence. Something flashed across Lord Evermore's face before he turned to look at Cordelia. Cordelia gulped. He seemed nice enough, and he believed that Evangeline was a sorceress, which were all good points, but he was so old.

Marry him? Really? His hair wasn't completely white, it was true, but also he currently had an expression very much like a man who has been hit with a board, although whether that was due to his advanced years or the conversation, it was hard to know.

The hit-with-a-board look smoothed out and was replaced with a questioning smile. "Hester," said Richard, "I am certain that your young friend has many redeeming qualities, but I have not yet stooped to robbing the nursery."

"I don't mean you really marry her," snapped Hester. " Obviously. You just have to offer for her. And… err…" She leaned on her cane. "Well, possibly you might actually have to walk down the aisle together. It depends on the timing, you understand. But we can get it annulled later. It will be fine."

Richard looked from Hester to Cordelia. His eyes crinkled up as he smiled at her. "I see that we are both entrapped in one of Hester's schemes. Do you know what is going on?"

She shook her head.

"Oh good. I hate to be the only one in the dark. Very well, Hester, explain to us why you require me to offer for Miss Cordelia here."

Hester folded her hands together. "All right. Let's start at the beginning. Cordelia, what has been your mother's goal this entire time?"

"To have me marry a rich man," said Cordelia promptly. "She's been talking about it as long as I can remember."

Hester leveled a finger at her. "Precisely. And you said that she chose to marry my brother in order to accomplish that goal."

Cordelia nodded. Richard cleared his throat. "Forgive me," he said, when both women looked at him, "but I didn't quite follow that. How does marrying Samuel get her closer?"

Hester tilted her head to one side. "Richard, for a very smart man, you can be surprisingly ignorant. To marry a rich man requires funds. You must bring your prospective bride to the attention of your quarry. In most cases, that will mean a season in town, with all the balls and assemblies and parties and so forth. And for that, you must have gowns and hats and day-dresses and tickets to the theater and all of those things require money."

"Ah."

She folded her arms. "The problem with being rich is that you simply have no idea how expensive it is to be poor."

"Yes, Hester," said Richard meekly.

"Selling Mr. Parker's carriage let us pay for the dresses, I think," said Cordelia. "At least a few."

"But you'd still need a place to stay, and someone to introduce you to the assemblies and so forth." Hester waved her hand. "In that sense, Doo—Evangeline has been extremely clever. My brother and I were perfectly placed to accomplish her goals."

"I don't know," said Richard. "If she were truly that clever, she wouldn't have gone up against you in the first place."

Hester poked him in the shin with her cane. "Flattery will get you nowhere. Practice flattering Cordelia instead. You're supposed to make this convincing."

He raised his eyebrows. "Ah… Cordelia, that's a very charming frock."

"Thank you?" She tried to remember how to respond to compliments, but none of her mother's haphazard lectures came to mind. All she could think of was Penelope Green, who had deflected insults and compliments with such self-deprecating grace. "I—ah—it was all the dressmaker. I just stood there and held my arms up."

Hester laughed. "Good answer." Cordelia smiled with relief, though she suspected that her mother wouldn't have liked it much.

"At any rate," Hester continued, pulling the conversation back to more serious channels, "we know that Evangeline wants Cordelia to marry a rich man. We know that she will kill to get that. But we don't know why."

"If I may venture a guess," Richard said, "it's probably for the money."

"That's my guess as well. We just don't know what she'll do when she gets it. Does she want money for some specific purpose, or is a wealthy lifestyle her only goal?"

"So I'm the stalking horse, then? You marry me off to Cordelia and see what she does next?"

"It's that, or we hope that Cordelia goes on the marriage market and finds a decent wealthy man who doesn't laugh off the prospect of sorcery."

Richard nodded slowly. "Given what I know of my peers, we might as well hunt a unicorn. Very well." He extended a hand to Cordelia. "Does this meet your approval, Miss Cordelia? I vow on my soul that I shall not take advantage of my position in any way."

Take advantage of his position? Cordelia wondered if this was somehow related to compromising positions. Still, Hester clearly trusted Richard, and it wasn't as if Cordelia had any better plans. "I don't mind," she said. "We're not really getting married, after all."

"No, indeed. I shall make certain that there are definite grounds for annulment." He gave Hester a wry look. "Though you realize that will destroy my reputation utterly."

Hester snorted. "More the fool if anyone believes it."

"Oh, they will. It's the sort of juicy gossip everyone loves. And I have been single far too long besides." He leaned against the back of Hester's chair. "I don't suppose that I could convince you to come and minister to me in my extremity?"

To Cordelia's astonishment, a flush began to creep up Hester's neck and into her face. "I… I might at that."

Richard clearly hadn't expected that response. He pushed away from the chair and stood up very straight. "Well!" he said, and cleared his throat. "We can discuss this later, then. Meanwhile, I would like to point out one small flaw in your plan."

"Oh?"

"Evangeline might kill me. Otherwise she has to be content with taking possession of whatever money I funnel to my new wife."

Cold prickled Cordelia's spine at the thought. "I wish I thought she wouldn't, but…" She could picture it all too easily. Being made obedient. Picking up a knife and plunging it into her new husband's throat. She wrung the edge of her shawl with nervous fingers.

Hester was already nodding. "I'd thought of that, yes."

"Oh, well, so long as my death is an acceptable contingency…"

She swatted his shins with her cane again. "No, you silly man. But your estate is mostly entailed and if you die, it goes to your heirs. She'd be a fool to kill you off before Cordelia's had at least one child."

The image of stabbing Richard was immediately overwhelmed by the image of being a mother. Cordelia's mouth fell open. She'd never even considered it. She knew how things worked, more or less, and that people married in order to have babies, but somehow getting married had always been an entirely separate goal in her head.

The very notion was appalling. I've never even held a baby. What would I do with one? I can do dishes and clean rooms and ride a horse if the horse doesn't mind, but caring for babies seems like it would be something else entirely.

"So that should give us some breathing room," said Hester. "And really, Richard, would you prefer that we drag some innocent soul into the line of fire?"

"No, no. Please, let me throw myself into the breach for you. After all, if I die, then society won't go around gossiping that I'm impotent."

Impotent? Cordelia wasn't sure how they'd gotten there. She made a mental note to ask Hester later.

" At any rate, " said Hester, giving him a glare, "it will buy us a little time to work out what she wants. And she'll be away on her honeymoon, so we'll have a perfect excuse for the three of us to be seen together without causing a scandal. I shall be Cordelia's chaperone, and of course, as her fiancé, you will have every reason to call upon us regularly."

"Very well, you've convinced me." Lord Evermore gave Cordelia a wry smile. "I suppose while we are pretending to be engaged, Hester will be putting the next stage of her devious plan into action. Do you think she'll tell us what it is, or just drop it on our heads like a flowerpot?"

Cordelia found that she could laugh, and pushed all thoughts of babies and parenting to one side. She wasn't really getting married. " Is there a devious plan?"

"Well," Hester said, "I hope there will be." She thumped the book at her side. "I've been reading up on sorcery. Our library's not worth much, though, so I'm hoping that I'll find something worthwhile in a better one. Surely someone in the city has studied this more closely…"

Lord Evermore rubbed his chin. "There's bound to be something in my library. The problem would be finding it. My grandfather collected rare books the way that some men collect butterflies. Alas, his passion for books did not extend to a passion for cataloguing them."

"This may all end with us digging through the library and hoping for the best," Hester said.

"If it does, it does." Evermore nodded to Cordelia. "Well, it appears that you and I have our marching orders. I shall speak to the Squire directly."

It sounded like a dismissal, and Cordelia's mind was such a whirl that she was grateful for the excuse. "Yes," she said, getting to her feet. She curtsied to both of them and hurried toward her room, hoping that she could read enough of The Ladies' Book of Etiquette to know what to do before the offer arrived.

"Clever," said Richard, as the door clicked shut behind Cordelia. "Not kind, but clever."

Hester swallowed. She'd seen the flash of anger across his face earlier, and watched as he had very deliberately set it aside so as not to frighten Cordelia, but she'd suspected that it was still there. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to make you think that I was asking you to propose to me. "

He shook his head. "No," he said quietly. "I should have known better. You've made it abundantly clear that marriage to me would be a poor second to the life you want."

"Richard…" His name felt as if she were hacking it out with a dull blade. Ten years, and you thought you'd really given him up? Ten years and you thought you could beg him to come to your rescue and not have it tear your heart out?

She could have endured that, perhaps, but not the guilt of having torn his heart out in return.

"I'm sorry," she said hoarsely. "It was never you that I didn't want."

He shoved his hands in his pockets and went to the window, staring out. The shadows had grown under the trees and dusk was being dragged down into dark. "You've arranged everything so neatly. Your old friend gets a bride and your young friend gets a husband. Very tidy."

"It's not like that!" Her voice was too loud and she slapped her hand over her mouth, angry with herself, but he didn't turn away from the window. "I don't mean for you to really go through with it. I told you that."

"You know that I would do anything for you." She hated how bleak his voice sounded when he said it. It wasn't a promise, just a statement of fact. A fact that she had taken shameless advantage of. "Of course I'll do this too, if that's what you want."

"You understand why, though?" Hester rubbed her hands over her face. "You believe us, don't you? About what that woman is. I know it sounds like a fairy tale." He has to believe us. Otherwise… what? He thinks I'm lying or deluded, but he's doing it anyway because I'm the one asking him?

The force of his loyalty was a sudden weight on her chest, pressing down, and she did not know how much she could bear.

"Yesterday I wouldn't have believed it," he said, still staring out at the trees. "But after I spoke with Parker… yes. All right. It makes more sense of what I saw than anything else. The way he choked when he tried to talk about her…" He turned back, and even through the rush of relief, it struck Hester that the lines of his face were much deeper than she had ever realized.

Richard, old? How could that happen? It was a few lines of silver, nothing more. He can't be this old. It must just be exhaustion from a hard ride, that's all.

"I didn't want to say how bad it was in front of the girl," he admitted. "It was terrible. He was biting his own lips and tongue as he tried to get the words out. I've never seen anything like it." He rocked on the balls of his feet. "And yes, perhaps I would rather believe in sorcery of that caliber than that a man would murder most of his family with an axe for no apparent reason, or that Penelope would stab her maid and then throw herself over a balcony."

Hester exhaled with slow relief. "Good. I'm glad." She gave him a wan smile. "I wasn't looking forward to trying to convince you."

"Have you told anyone else?"

She shook her head. "Imogene knows that something's going on. I imagine I'll have to tell her soon. But you're the only two I'd trust."

His smile was pained, but he reached out and took her hand again. "I'm sorry for yelling," he said. "Just… next time warn me before you're about to marry me off to someone else."

"It's my fault, and believe me, I hope I'll never have to ask you to do this again."

"I wouldn't mind one more time," he said, lifting her hand to his lips. "If it was the right woman."

He rose and took his leave. "I suppose I should go wash the dust off and congratulate Samuel. What a day this has been…"

Hester nodded, trying to pretend that she couldn't still feel the warmth of his breath against her skin.