“I see,” the countess said. “My apologies. Lady Lockheed did mention that you might be bringing another cousin, but I fear that I quite forgot.”
Dora suspected that Auntie Frances might have downplayed the possibility, in the hopes that Vanessa might change her mind before they left. But Lady Hayworth was quick to adjust, even if she didn’t quite pause to finish the formal introduction.
Still, Lady Hayworth led them into a comfortable sitting room, where a maid brought them biscuits and hot tea while they waited for supper to finish being prepared. The countess and Auntie Frances talked for quite some time, gossiping about upcoming parties and the eligible bachelors who were known to be attending them. Dora found herself distracted by the sight of a tiny ladybird crawling across the knee of her gown. She was just thinking that she ought to sneak it outside before one of the maids noticed it, when Vanessa spoke and broke her out of her musings.
“And which parties will the Lord Sorcier be attending?” Dora’s cousin asked the countess.
Lady Hayworth blinked, caught off-guard by the inquiry. “The Lord Sorcier?” she asked, as though she wasn’t certain she’d heard Vanessa correctly. When Vanessa nodded emphatically, the countess frowned. “I admit, I do not know offhand,” she said. “But whatever romantic notions you may have taken up about him, I fear that he will not be a suitable match for you, my dear.”
“Why ever not?” Vanessa asked innocently, over her tea. “He’s quite young for the position of court magician, I hear, and very handsome as well. And is he not a hero of the war?” Dora heard a subtle, misleading note in her cousin’s voice, however, and she knitted her brow, trying to pick apart what she was up to.
“That much is true,” Lady Hayworth admitted. “But Lord Elias Wilder is really barely a lord. The Prince Regent insisted on giving him the French courtesy title, of course, with all those silly privileges that the French give their own court magicians. Technically, the Lord Sorcier may even sit in on the House of Lords. But his blood is common, and his manners are exceptionally uncouth. I have had the misfortune of encountering him on several occasions now. He has the face of an angel, and the tongue of some foul... dockworker.”
Dora found it amusing that the countess apparently considered dockworkers to be an appropriate foil for angels. She was briefly distracted by the notion that hell might be full of legions and legions of dockworkers, rather than devils.
“He does sound terribly unsuitable,” Vanessa said reluctantly, regaining Dora’s attention. “But please, if you don’t mind—I would love to meet the Lord Sorcier at least once. I’ve heard such stories about him, and I would be crushed to leave London without even seeing him.”
The countess tutted mildly. “I suppose we shall see,” she said. “But for the very first thing, I have a wish to see you at Lady Carroway’s ball. She has many fine and suitable sons, and you could do worse than entering London society at one of her parties...”
The subject meandered once again, until they were brought into dinner. They met the Lord Hayworth that evening in passing, though he seemed quite busy with his own affairs, and less than interested in his wife’s social doings. Once or twice, Dora thought to ask Vanessa about her interest in the Lord Sorcier, but her cousin kept demurring and changing the subject of conversation, and she eventually decided it was best to drop the matter while they were in current company.
Dora next thought that she would wait to ask until they were off to bed... but directly after dinner, she was swept away by a maid and given a hot bath, then bundled into a very lovely feather-down bed a few rooms down from her cousin.
Tomorrow, Dora thought distantly, while she stared at the foreign ceiling with interest. I am sure we’ll speak tomorrow.
Quietly, she pulled the iron scissors from the sheath around her neck and tucked them beneath her pillow. As she drifted off to sleep, she dreamt of angels on the London docks, filing up and down the pier and hustling crates of tea onto ships.
Chapter 2
For many days, Dora had no opportunity at all to speak with her cousin.
In fact, when she woke in her room the next day, she had to search out a maid to be told that Lady Hayworth and Auntie Frances had gone out shopping for accessories with Vanessa. Partway through the day, someone sent word that they would be unaccountably delayed, as they had been invited to dinner at the residence of one of Lady Hayworth’s friends. After a day of ambling uncertainly about the townhouse, Dora finally went back to bed early, hoping that the next day might offer more fortuitous circumstances.
When Dora next woke, she was advised that Vanessa was getting her gown adjusted at the last moment, on Lady Hayworth’s recommendation. This being the second day in a growing pattern, Dora did not waste any more time sitting at windows drinking tea. Instead, she asked where she might find something to read. She was directed towards a single bookcase within a small library, where were the sorts of books that ladies ought to read. Here she found a tattered, type-printed novel tucked away in the corner—perhaps a guilty pleasure for one of Lady Hayworth’s absent daughters—and spent a few hours reading. The subject matter would have been quite shocking, if she had been the sort to shock, but it was an entertaining novel all the same.
The third day, Dora decided that it was time she went outside—and so she did. She put on her most reasonable dress and walked right out the front door and into the street. If the servants thought there was something odd about
