Hidden Huntress

I followed the man up to the entrance of the house, my skin prickling with slight pain as I passed through the gate of the wrought iron fence encircling the property. I wondered if they remembered why such fences had come into existence – to keep the immortal fey away. Unfortunately for humanity, it did little to protect them from trolls. Mortality had come with some advantages, not the least of which was a better tolerance of the metal.

The door opened, and I stepped inside. The air was roasting hot and full of the smells of food, perfume, sweat, and smoke – the music and chatter of dozens of voices loud in my ear. My pulse raced. I’d been to countless parties in my lifetime where I had an agenda other than entertainment. I’d pretended to be someone who I was not for years. But never had I been so far out of my element, and the challenge both terrified and intoxicated me.

“Monsieur de Montigny!” A booming voice caught my attention, and I turned, half in the process of handing off my hat and cloak, to see a short, crimson-faced man with an abundance of white whiskers bearing down on me. He stuck his hand out, and though the concept of shaking hands was entirely strange to me, I took it, clenching my teeth into a smile as he jerked my stiff wrist up and down. “Fran?ois Bouchard,” he said, finally releasing my hand. “We are so pleased you could join us at our little fête.”

“I was pleased to receive the invitation,” I said, following through the foyer. “This is my first visit to Trianon, and I confess to feeling much like a fish out of water.”

“Well, you’re in good hands now.”

A woman dressed in brilliant pink stepped out in front of us, her eyes widening as they met mine. “There you are, my dear,” Bouchard said. “Anna, this is Monsieur de Montigny, who’s just arrived from the south – from near Courville, if what I’ve heard is correct?”

Thank you, Cécile.

I smiled, kissed the woman’s outstretched knuckles, and said, “Your ears have not failed you.”

“Good to know,” Bouchard said, and I only just refrained from blocking the arm he raised, reluctantly allowing him to slap me across the shoulders. “One can’t count on these things at my age.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Monsieur,” Anna said, keen to get a word in.

“Of a certainty, the pleasure is mine,” I replied. “I was half-afraid I was facing a lonely dinner, but instead I find myself here, in your company, which is an improvement far beyond what I might have hoped for.”

She laughed, and took a mouthful of wine. “The dark side of bachelorhood, I’m afraid. But you are here now, and it is far past time you were introduced. Fran?ois will take you on the tour – there are a great many gentlemen who would like to make your acquaintance, and more than a few ladies, I’m sure.”

“You’re in mining, isn’t that right?” Bouchard said, leading me off. “I’ve a number of clients in the business, so I was surprised not to have heard your name, all things considered.”

Those things being in fact one thing: wealth.

“My father takes great pains to protect the family’s anonymity,” I said, smiling at a cluster of young women standing together – I did have a part to play, after all. The girls all clutched at each other’s arms, heads pressed together as they whispered. “We conduct all of our business through agents known for their discretion. I’d be more surprised if you had heard our name.”

“Your presence indicates you’re not of a like mind with your father,” he commented. “He can’t be best pleased at your decision to leave?”

“He’s been surprisingly supportive of my adventure out into the world,” I replied. Supportive as long as I walked down the path he wanted. “He personally ensured I was well equipped to invest in my future,” I mimicked my father’s dry voice as he’d shoved the chest of gold through the barrier. “But now isn’t the time to talk business.”

Which only made him want to discuss it all the more. I took the glass of champagne he handed me, discreetly looking around the room. Was Anushka here? I thought not. Cécile’s argument that the witch was under the protection of the Chasteliers had been compelling, and that would suggest she resided amongst a higher class of people.

“I’d be happy to assist you in facilitating those investments,” he said, eyes bright. “Perhaps if you gave me an idea of the magnitude of investment you’re considering, I’d be better able to direct your introductions.”

The question was crass, but given I was supposed to be some sort of back-country recluse, it was prudent that I not react. I leaned in and murmured a number.

Bouchard’s eyes bugged. “Your options are many, Monsieur de Montigny.”

“Excellent,” I said. “I’ll make an appointment with you as soon as it’s convenient.”