“Beg pardon, miss.” I turned to find a maid in a cap and apron. She opened the wardrobe and laid out a white cotton nightgown. I sat on the bed, not knowing what to do. How did one go about having a maid? Was I supposed to talk to her, or was that not allowed? I smiled at her, shy, and was grateful when she smiled back.
Moments later, I lay beneath the pink silk coverlet and basked in the quiet of the room. Only a few nights before, I’d been in the attic, sharing a bed with Jane Lawrence. The teachers and children all slept together in one long dormitory, and there was never any peace, with everyone’s wheezing and snoring. The silence here was almost disconcerting. But I’d never been this comfortable before in my life, and it had been such a long day. I closed my eyes, and sleep carried me away.
—
THE NEXT DAY, I WOKE FIRMLY tangled in blankets. My neck was stiff, and I groaned as I sat up. My hair hung in my face. How long had I been asleep? Someone pushed the bed’s drapes aside. It was the maid from the previous night.
“Good afternoon, then, miss!” she said, smiling. I blinked stupidly at her. “Almost evening, really. Nice to see you awake. Not that you can’t have a lie-in, but Master did want you up soon. An hour more and I’d have had to shake you myself. Wouldn’t have liked to, of course. After the journey you’ve had, I think you should be allowed to sleep until next year.” She couldn’t have been more than fifteen, a girl with a heart-shaped face and strawberry-blond hair.
“I’m sorry,” I croaked, rubbing my eyes. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Lilly. I’m to be your maid till Master sees fit to hire a lady’s maid.” She never stopped beaming. “You’re from Yorkshire, they say. Is it pleasant there? Seems dangerous nowadays, but I always wanted to go. ’Course, can’t just up and leave on holiday when you’re in service, can you? And not when there’s a war on, at any rate. Maybe one day it’ll end, though I can’t see how. Still, suppose it’s not for me to wonder. Master says I’m to have you cleaned and ready by half past seven. My, but you’re dark. Not that it’s bad—I think dark women look mysterious—but Miss Gwen’s colors may not suit you, but we can try nonetheless.”
I’d never known a girl to talk so much. “Thank you,” I said as Lilly opened the wardrobe and pulled out several beautiful dresses, laying them on the bed beside me. “Are you certain Miss Gwen won’t be irritated with my taking her gowns? Or her room, for that matter?”
Lilly startled. “Miss Gwen was the Master’s daughter. She’s been gone these last four years.”
“Oh.” My hand flew to my mouth in embarrassment. Poor Agrippa. “I’m so sorry. How did she die?”
“Scarlet fever. I never knew her, as I came to work here afterward, but all the servants loved her.”
“I hate to think of Master Agrippa disturbing this room for me.” I got out of the bed, feeling almost guilty for sleeping there.
“No, it was no trouble. This room’s turned down regular as clockwork. Just as when she was alive.” Lilly shook her head. “Anyway, I’ve hot water and lavender soap for your wash. Afterward, we’ll dress you for the gentlemen.”
“What gentlemen?”
“Oh, it’s quite an occasion. The Imperator’s coming, you know, along with another from the Order. Master says they’re to evaluate you.” Lilly smiled and helped me prepare my toilette. She’d brought up tea and sandwiches, but I felt too nervous to eat.
The Imperator was the bloody prime minister of English magic. What if I failed their test? What if I truly were no sorcerer? And if I disappointed them…what exactly would become of me?
Lilly helped me into a sky-blue dress, sat me before the vanity mirror, and arranged my hair. “Sorry if it’s awful, miss. Haven’t had much time for learning hair.” She pinned it up, but left two loose curling sections by my cheeks. With a final flourish, she sprayed a citrus eau de cologne and clapped her hands. “Oh, miss. Maybe the dress is no great color for you, but you do look lovely.”
The girl in the mirror couldn’t be me. At Brimthorn, I’d dressed in a shapeless gray uniform that aged me by at least ten years, but I’d never given great thought to my appearance. Now my shoulders were bare, and the sleeves belled out at my elbows so that my hands seemed small and dainty in the folds of cloth.
“Lilly, you’re a miracle worker,” I breathed, admiring the fit of the dress. The maid blushed. I pulled my shoulders back and nodded at my reflection. “I think it’s time.” Stomach lurching, I left the room and went down the stairs, praying I didn’t trip over my skirt. Once on the second floor, I paused and clutched the banister. I was utterly lost. There were ten doors, all closed. Which way was the bloody parlor? I looked up and down the hall. Perhaps I should just start wandering until I found someone.
To my left, I heard voices. One of the doors was open a crack. Relieved, I went to it and was about to knock when I heard my name. I stopped and peered inside. The room seemed to be a small study with a desk and several bookshelves taking up much of the space. Two gentlemen were discussing me before the fireplace.
One of them was Agrippa. With his back to me, he said, “I’ve no business ordering you about, George, especially as you’re nearly commended. But when I ask you to receive someone, you will be home to do so. Is that understood?”
The fellow who stood before Agrippa was a handsome sort, with a triangular face and black hair. Agrippa had called him George. Heavens, this was Lord Blackwood at last. He was so young.
Colegrind and the teachers had spoken of Lord Blackwood with such reverence. My whole childhood, I’d been reminded how blessed I was to live under an earl’s protection. And here I was, about to meet him. I gripped the doorknob, trying to steady my nerves, and was about to go in when Blackwood said, “All due respect, sir, there’s no need to wait eagerly on a simple country girl. She will keep.” He sounded bored as he rested one elbow on the mantelpiece.
I bit my tongue.
“I never thought you a rude fellow,” Agrippa said in a huff. “While you live here, you will be respectful of her position.”
With a shrug, Blackwood continued, “I’m sure she is intelligent and charming, just as you wrote to us. But I don’t know what you think to do with her.”
“Train her for commendation, obviously,” Agrippa said. He sounded angry.
Blackwood shook his head. His expression was cold. “We’ll do our best, but with her background, I doubt she’ll be capable.”
My face felt flaming hot. I had to dig my fingers into the palms of my hands, lest the fire come upon me suddenly.
Agrippa said, “You had better keep these thoughts to yourself when you meet the young lady.”
Taking the opportunity provided, I knocked and entered the room. Lord Blackwood casually looked me up and down. Judging everything he saw, no doubt.
Agrippa made the smallest, softest noise and glanced away. I winced, remembering that I was wearing his dead child’s dress. Oh God. Still, it wasn’t as though I could take it off—not now.
“Good evening,” I said. My voice didn’t waver. Excellent.
“You must be Miss Howel.” Blackwood sounded disinterested.
The bloody cheek of it all. I forced a smile onto my face. “And you must be Lord Blackwood. A pleasure.” I curtsied, very prettily, if I may say so. “How nice to finally meet my benefactor. I grew up at the Brimthorn School for Girls, you know. On Sorrow-Fell lands.”
“Yes, I know where the school is.” He looked at me. His eyes were green and tilted up at the corners, almost like a cat’s.
“I only mention it because I can’t remember ever seeing you before. So many Brimthorn girls always wanted a glimpse of our benefactor. To think I had to come all the way to London to find you.” My voice was bright, my smile easy. I wasn’t going to let him see me rattled.
Blackwood sniffed. “I’m sorry to have been absent. Sadly, only the most pressing matters can command my attention in wartime.”
A spark glinted in my hand. I managed to quash it, but Blackwood noticed.
Agrippa extended his arm to me. “Shall we go to the parlor?” he said. We walked out at a leisurely pace, Blackwood behind us. I clenched my jaw. The Earl of Sorrow-Fell was nothing like I’d hoped he would be.