Tesara knew her mouth was open. “Mama?” she managed in a faint voice.
“Sam was able to control it, Tes. After many years, he was able to make it stop.” Alinesse looked straight at Tesara. “He made it stop, Tes,” she repeated.
And then she left the room.
“Oh, are you going out, girls?” Brevart said, with a look of vague surprise, as his daughters put on their gloves and bonnets in the hall outside the parlor.
“Tea at the Sansieris’,” Tesara reminded him for the dozenth time, after sharing a worried glance with Yvienne.
“Oh! Give them my best wishes,” he said once again as if the old feud were forgotten, and vanished behind his newspaper, missing his wife’s glare.
“We will,” Tesara said. They stepped out into the afternoon sunshine, a brisk breeze coming off the harbor and whisking at their bonnets. They walked in silence. Tesara was still overwhelmed by her mother’s revelations, still dazed by what she had learned. She carried a Balinchard trait, her uncle had it until by main force of will he was able to give it up, that Alinesse knew. It explained everything, and yet raised far more questions than it answered.
Yvienne had been mostly unspeaking for the past three days, but now, as they made their way toward the Crescent and the Mile, she finally broke her silence.
“We need to talk,” she said abruptly.
Tesara nodded. “Yes. There’s trouble.”
They looked at each other and just like that, they were partners again. “You first,” Yvienne said.
“It’s Mathilde. I’ve never liked her, and it turns out I was right.” Tesara explained about the young man. Yvienne stopped and held her wrist and they faced each other in the midst of the Sunday crowds.
“Ginger hair and whiskers?” she said, her voice odd. Tesara nodded.
Her sister gave a short laugh. “Ah. Well, I always knew she was too good to be true.”
Tesara felt her heart speed up. “How bad is it?”
Yvienne took a deep breath. “She’s working for the Guild. The fellow with the ginger hair was watching me and Mathilde at the market. Then later he was at Treacher’s shop, that night Treacher was murdered. I took him by surprise, and he thought I was a dock rat. Didn’t recognize me.” Her voice was filled with satisfaction. “I must make a convincing boy. He told me that the family was being watched. He must have meant Mathilde was doing the watching. That’s the only reason she would come to work for us.”
“She was being paid to spy on us,” Tesara agreed. “Using her own money to feed us.” Somehow, that was the most sickening thought, that Mathilde was keeping them all unsuspecting with three meals and impeccable service. It was also why Mathilde had been at the Fleurenze party, keeping an eye on her charges. “She must know about me, then. She cleaned Mama’s dress for me, once, so she knows I’ve been sneaking out, and she followed me to at least one party.” Her heart seized. “Do you think she knows about you?”
If she did, they were all in terrible danger. Oh Vivi.
“I don’t think so,” Yvienne said. “If they knew, they would have come for me by now, I should think.” She smiled in a pained way. “But you’re right, Tes. It’s too dangerous to continue. I’ll stop.”
Tesara pressed her sister’s hand and Yvienne pressed back. They waited for the traffic to clear at the intersection of the Crescent and the Mercantile, and Tesara threw a tiny glance at the pillar with the broken stone. When the way was clear, they walked up the Crescent toward the Sansieri house.
“There’s just one thing,” Yvienne said, as they approached the gate. “This salon at our old house – we have to play our parts one last time. We can’t let Trune suspect…”
“That we know it’s a trap? Of course,” Tesara said. Her lip curled in disdain. “He’s not half as clever as he thinks he is.” She had no qualms about using all of her power against Trune. Something about the house amplified her abilities. And knowing that her mother had always known made her fingers swell with power again. A Balinchard trait, eh? Well, she would embrace it, just as she had learned to accept her Balinchard nose and Balinchard chin.
“Still very dangerous, Tes. Never forget that,” Yvienne warned.
“So, I’ll play the silly debutante,” Tesara said, pretending to twirl her lock of hair and bat her eyes. “And you? The last appearance of the Gentleman Bandit?”
“Not exactly. You keep them occupied in the ballroom, while I look around upstairs. You said that Trune took over Papa’s study as his own, and there were locked cabinets?”
Tesara nodded. “With loads of files,” she said. “You’ll need to break in to them.”
“You leave that to me,” Yvienne said.
“Oh, one last thing, Vivi. Albero the footman works at the house. He recognized me. He was quite kind, actually. The rest of the staff are strangers.”
Yvienne nodded. “I’ll be sure to steer clear of him.”
They rang the bell of the grand Sansieri front door and waited.
It was later that evening that Yvienne stood across from the ancestral home at the top of the Crescent. Long shadows spread across the road from the tall yew trees on the harbor side of the grand street. She wore a modest walking dress and long coat, and willed herself to be invisible in the shadows. It was chilly here but she was warm and silent and unmoving.
The front of the house rose as proudly as ever over the Crescent. The black wrought-iron gate, with its sigil of House Mederos, allowed her to see a
