Chapter 5
Their small party left the ball late, but there was a sense of grim triumph in the carriage on the way back to Lady Hayworth’s townhouse. The night hadn’t been the unqualified success that Auntie Frances and the countess had wanted, but Dora could see that they were both quite pleased with themselves for adjusting to such unexpected difficulties. The two of them discussed how best to make use of Dora’s access to Albert, even as she dozed on Vanessa’s shoulder.
Dora was still very sleepy when they arrived back at the townhouse, and she fell into bed almost immediately as a consequence. It did not even enter her mind to ask that she be woken early—but she was awoken, and somewhat before what some would term to be a decent hour for the morning after such a ball.
“Dora!” Vanessa hissed her name, shaking her awake. “Dora, you must wake up! The Lord Sorcier has come to call. He says he wishes to see you, but the butler is doing his very best to turn him away.”
Dora yawned slowly awake, pushing herself up and rubbing at her eyes. “Oh dear,” she said. “I don’t think that will end very well.” She levered herself off the bed and went searching for her stockings. “You will have to help me dress in a hurry.”
She wasted little time, pulling on her cotton morning dress and heading for the stairs. A familiar voice filtered up from below.
“—too early to call?” Elias asked, his tone terse and annoyed. “The sun has been out for hours now. The rest of the civilized world is awake and doing useful things. You’re up and answering doors yourself, by God—I’m sure the lady can find her way out of bed without unduly straining herself.”
Dora could only imagine the poor butler’s consternation. He’d probably been instructed to force the Lord Sorcier to leave by any means necessary, but the man was unlikely to be cowed by simple pleasantries—which were, Dora assumed, the only weapon of note in the servant’s arsenal.
“In fact,” the butler stammered, “the lady is not at home.”
“Oh, is she not?” Elias asked. His voice dripped with sardonic disbelief. “I see. No matter, then. I must be off shortly to investigate a plague, but I’ll return directly after I am finished with that, if the lady is not at home.”
A horrified silence ensued, as the butler considered the possibility of a plague-touched Lord Sorcier returning to the house later that afternoon.
“Perhaps you should check again with the lady of the house, and see if Miss Ettings might yet be found,” Elias said dryly. “She could check beneath the furniture, in case the lady is hiding.”
Dora headed further down the stairs. The doorway came into view, and she saw Elias leaning against the frame, looming over the butler in a subtly ominous manner. The Lord Sorcier was clearly dressed down for the duties he’d just mentioned, clad mostly in black and brown. His neckcloth was barely tied. Had Dora the ability to feel embarrassed, she might have felt it in that moment. I am not sure whether I should be embarrassed for him or embarrassed for myself, she thought. This is by far the least respectful call of which I have ever heard.
“Oh!” Dora said. She pitched her voice audibly as she approached. “I didn’t realise you would be paying a visit this morning, my Lord Sorcier.”
Elias glanced over towards her with a grim scowl. “Miraculous!” he declared. “The lady has appeared from thin air.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Were you, in fact, hiding beneath the furniture, Miss Ettings?”
Dora smiled serenely at him. “Beneath the sofa,” she told him. “But now, here I am. How might I be of assistance?”
The scowl on Elias’ face deepened. A hint of amusement floated across Dora’s mind, as she realised he was steeling himself to say something most unpleasant. “I was hoping to continue our discussion from last evening,” Elias said. “Waiting for another of those frivolous affairs in order to speak with you did not suit me.”
Dora took a few steps closer to the doorway, clasping her hands in front of herself. “I see,” she said. “You are a busy man, it seems, and I am very flattered.” And then, because she could not stop a strange, teasing impulse that had bubbled up within her, she added: “You should have sent flowers, however.”
Elias stared at her. Slowly, a kind of murderous intent flickered up behind his golden eyes. “Pardon?” he said, enunciating each syllable distinctly. “I am not certain that I heard you correctly, Miss Ettings.”
“My apologies,” Dora told him. “I am told that I mumble, on occasion. I said that you should have first sent flowers with your calling card, and then come to call... perhaps tomorrow, during the proper hours. That is the way of things. Mr Lowe told me that you are not always aware of societal expectations, and so I thought you might appreciate plain speaking.”
Elias drew himself up with a long, steadying breath. Dora wondered for a moment whether he might lose what little composure he had gathered. But after that moment, he controlled himself and forced a sardonic smile. “I see,” he said. “You will have to forgive my ineptness, Miss Ettings. I am obliged to you for your advice.”
Dora did not really mean to drive Elias off, however, given that he had come for her benefit. Since the butler was still staring at him aghast, and not looking in Dora’s direction, she gave Elias a very stately, serious sort of wink. “I would hate to inconvenience you, however,” she continued, “since you are already at the door. I hope that the countess will not despise me if I invite you in for some tea. I shall have to ask her, you understand, since I am currently her guest.”
“Of course,” Elias said
