“Alas,” Lord Carroway said. “I would have had you next to me, to hear more of your miserable politics.” The viscount’s broad smile suggested that he did not think anything miserable of Elias at all, which Dora found quite fascinating. “But yes. If I am stealing you from your work, I suppose that you may sit where you will.”
This meant, of course, that Elias would be much closer to Lady Carroway’s side of the table—a circumstance which did not seem to delight the hostess. As Elias turned to search out Albert, however, he saw for the first time that Dora was present. Their eyes met, and Dora thought for just a moment that she saw the Lord Sorcier’s lips twitch in something dangerously close to a smile.
“Well!” Elias said. “How convenient. Two French linguists at once. I will sit between you then, and solicit two opinions at once.”
Lady Carroway could not possibly have looked more miserable at this turn of events. She looked towards Albert, silently begging her son to say something. But Albert seemed only too delighted to oblige; he rose up to his feet and moved his chair further down to make room.
One of the servants returned to set Elias’ seat; no sooner had the magician settled himself than he glanced towards Dora. “Miss Ettings,” he greeted her. “How fine you look this evening. The dress does seem familiar though, doesn’t it?”
Dora smiled at him. From anyone else, the comment would have been an insult—and surely, most of their company must have interpreted it as such. But since Elias had scoured the dress of colour himself, she suspected it was a friendly rejoinder instead. “Lord Sorcier,” she acknowledged him. “I fear you do not look so fine yourself; one suspects you have not slept enough. And your clothing also seems familiar. One suspects that you have slept in it.”
Elias laughed. There was an odd delight to it that Dora had not heard before. “I am not fit to spar with you tonight,” he said. “I am so tired that I will be at a handicap. But I think I will enjoy being thoroughly bested.”
“You speak as though I have never bested you before,” Dora said mildly. “I suppose I will concede to your weariness and pretend that you have ever had a victory, my lord.”
Albert laughed now, too. “Why, now we have dinner and a show,” he said. “Brilliant. I am of a mind for a bet. Does anyone dare lay odds on the Lord Sorcier, in his currently-weakened state?”
“Albert!” Lady Carroway scolded him. “I swear, I do not know who raised you! It cannot have been me.”
“You raised him perfectly fine, Lady Carroway,” Elias informed her. “I fear it was France, and possibly myself, which then corrupted him.”
“You have admitted it yourself,” Lady Carroway muttered, just low enough that Dora heard her and no one else.
“Put some food in your mouth, Elias, before my mother strangles you,” Albert told him cheerfully. “I’d rather you not perish beneath this roof with an empty belly. It would reflect badly on our hospitality, I’m sure.”
Elias seemed only too content to oblige—now that he had taken a bit of soup, he had clearly realised just how famished he was. Dora frowned at him worriedly. Certainly, such exhaustion couldn’t be good for Elias’ health, and there were far more normal diseases to be caught than just the plague itself.
“Doesn’t Mrs Dun feed you?” Dora asked him, when he’d finished the last dregs of the soup course.
Elias waved her off as though she were a gnat. “That woman has eighteen children to feed,” he said. “I am not one of them, and I don’t intend to be.”
Lady Carroway frowned at that. “Mrs Dun?” she asked. “Surely not the same Mrs Dun that runs our orphanage?”
Albert coughed gently. Elias blinked, and then coloured. Dora found herself fascinated by the obvious blush of embarrassment on his face. She smiled suddenly.
“The Lord Sorcier donates a great deal of money to Mrs Dun’s orphanage,” Dora informed the viscountess. “I imagine that he sees her quite often, as a consequence.”
Elias shot Dora a piteous, betrayed sort of look.
“Does he?” Lady Carroway asked, narrowing her eyes at Elias. “How fascinating. One might have expected such a relevant topic to come up at dinner before now.”
“I am not so often at dinner here,” Elias said stiffly. But the very tips of his ears were red now too, and he seemed unable to look the viscountess in the eyes.
“The Lord Sorcier is very fond of children,” Dora added. “One of Mrs Dun’s charges told me that he performs magic tricks for the orphanage when he visits.”
Lady Carroway’s eyes gleamed now with a mixture of triumph and fresh affection, and Dora knew that this information had mended whatever brief injury Elias’ apparent courtship had caused to the lady’s regard for him. “How charming,” Lady Carroway said. “I seem to recall that our anonymous donor came forward not long after Albert asked to add three more children to the orphanage.”
“I have been looking into historical curses!” Elias snapped at Dora, as though to cut the subject short. His ears were still red. “Le Joyau wrote a treatise on the subject, and I am far too tired to translate it on my own.”
“You rarely translate anything yourself, even when you’re fully awake,” Albert observed wryly.
“I will be happy to take a look at the treatise after dinner, of course,” Dora said pleasantly.
“You will stay seated until the main course comes, naturally,” Lady Carroway said to Elias. The transformation in her behaviour was so sudden and magical that it might have been alchemy. “I have always said you do not take good enough care of yourself. You really must find a wife, before you run yourself into the ground.”
Elias pressed his face into his hands. “I far preferred it when you were
