“Thank you. We’d be grateful,” I muttered, lowering my gaze. I didn’t want him to see how much I liked the idea.
“It’s the least I can do for you both.” He reclined into a wedge of shadow. “I’ve been thinking about your life at Brimthorn since the night we argued at dinner. I’d like to help you now, if I can.”
Wonder of wonders, was Lord Blackwood apologizing? I felt myself softening a bit.
“It’s not as if you were off enjoying yourself. You’ve many responsibilities.” Complimenting Blackwood felt incredibly odd.
“So do you,” Blackwood said. “Since seeing you with Rook, I understand that. You look after each other.” He cleared his throat and shifted several times in his seat, as if humility were a new set of uncomfortable clothes.
“When you aren’t parading as the Earl of Sorrow-Fell, you can be fine company,” I mused. Blackwood made a choking sound that sounded a bit like laughter.
As if making a small confession, he said, “I don’t have a talent for speaking with people my own age.”
“Surely you had friends growing up?” I frowned.
“I’d my tutor and governess.” That told me a great deal. Sometimes when I joined Magnus and the other fellows in conversation, I would notice Blackwood stealing glances at us from across the room, almost longingly. He always returned to his book if he caught me staring. “Mother didn’t believe association with other young gentlemen would improve me. It was…a bit lonely.”
“She probably wanted to protect you,” I said. Blackwood made a disdainful noise.
“In her own way, I suppose. She is not the most affectionate of women.”
I was shocked by his openness. Perhaps his mother was like my aunt Agnes. Perhaps we did have much in common. “I know what loneliness is like, at any rate. Apart from Rook, I only had one real friend at school. But Judith went to live with her uncle in Glasgow when we were ten. Most girls kept their distance because of my friendship with an Unclean.”
“Yes, we’re quite the same.” He choke-laughed again. I felt almost tender toward him. I had to remember how irritating he could be, or this would become a habit.
“For what it’s worth, you aren’t despised. Dee told me he wishes he could be more like you.”
“No, he doesn’t.” He leaned forward. “Does he?”
“He finds you intimidating, but that’s an easy hurdle to overcome.”
“He’d do better to take someone like Magnus as a role model.” That bitter dislike crept into his voice again. “That’s why I came to find you. The others are playing charades upstairs. I know how you enjoy being on his team.”
Ah, there was that irritating tone. “I don’t live to be on Magnus’s team, thank you. He was merely the first person to make me feel welcome, and he never looked down on me for my low birth.” I meant it half-jokingly, so I was surprised when Blackwood flinched.
“Forgive me for that. I should never have said such things,” he said.
This was an interesting conversation. “What’s brought all this on?”
He picked up my book and turned the pages in a clear attempt not to meet my gaze. “I’ve never seen anyone as close with one of the Unclean as you are with Rook, and I like that. I thought you wanted to be our savior to cover yourself in glory, but this is for his sake as much as yours. Isn’t it?”
“Shouldn’t that confirm your bad opinion of me? I care more about my friend than I do about your prophecy.”
“I know what it is to love someone so much that you would move the world only to see them smile.” He went from his chair to the fire, to hang on the mantel and gaze into the flames. I’d never imagined that Blackwood could speak so passionately. “I can’t despise you for that, and I respect your choice of friend. Most people don’t bother with the lowest among us.”
Affection pulsed through me. “If there’s one thing I took from those Sundays in church, it’s that we’re called to love the lowest.”
“And the sinner? Should we love him, too?” His voice was rough and low.
“No one’s ever beyond redemption,” I said, surprised by his tone.
He shivered, bowing his head. Concerned, I went to him and laid my hand on his shoulder.
“Are you all right?”
“I lied,” he whispered. He faced me. His gaze was cold; the smiling, vulnerable young man had vanished. “I didn’t come to find you for parlor games. I wanted to gauge your reaction when I asked about taking Rook away.”
“What? Why?”
“Master Agrippa thinks my Unclean colony might be the best place for him.”
My whole body went numb. “No. He promised me they wouldn’t send him away.”
“He believes that Rook may be a distraction to you.”
“How? I barely visit him as it is. Today was the first real conversation we’ve had in weeks!”
“No one wants to do this,” Blackwood murmured, ignoring what I’d said. I pushed away from the hearth, away from him. “With Rook’s bad headaches keeping the servants up and your sporadic performance, Master Agrippa doesn’t want any problems.”
“How could no one mention this?” I gripped the back of the chair. Would I simply have woken one morning to find Rook gone? “When will they separate us?”
Blackwood sighed. “Master Agrippa agreed to one more week.”
“Agreed? Is someone forcing this?” I stepped toward him.
Blackwood shook his head. “I can’t talk about it.”
“This is Palehook’s doing, isn’t it?” Blackwood’s silence only confirmed my suspicions. My hands began to spark. “They can’t have him, do you understand? I’ll leave this house first, which I’m sure delights you.”
“I can’t promise we’ll win, but I’ll fight to keep him with you,” Blackwood said. He offered to shake on it. “On that, you have my word.”
“I think I know what everyone’s word is worth,” I said, and ran from the library.
—
BACK IN MY ROOM, I LIT my bedside candle. I tried once, twice, to get the flame into the air, but each time the fire licked across my stave harmlessly. “Please,” I whispered, leaning closer. “Please work.”
The little flame became a fireball, then died.
“Why?” My voice choked with tears, I shook Porridge as one might a wayward child. “Why won’t you do what I ask?” Furious, I flung my stave at the wall. It flashed blue for an instant.
It was as if someone had knocked my head against a stone. I collapsed, the ceiling spinning above me. My skull throbbed. Rolling onto my side was like a symphony of agony.
I had handled my stave badly. If the stave breaks, the sorcerer breaks with it. “I’m sorry, Porridge,” I whispered.
“Miss!” Lilly swam into view above me. “What is it?”
“Hurts,” I grunted. Lilly slipped my arm around her shoulder and helped me to my feet. The floor tilted at such a mad angle I was sure I’d be sick. I muttered something even I couldn’t understand. Lilly laid me on my bed, and after a moment, her footsteps disappeared out of the room.
I closed my eyes and waited for the darkness to stop spinning. I might have stayed like this for moments or hours, until I heard his voice: “Nettie?”
When I opened my eyes, Rook sat beside me. “Lilly said you needed me.”
“She did?” I sat up slowly. A dull ache had replaced the sharp pain in my head.
Lilly parked herself by my vanity and watched. “Thought you’d need Mr. Fenswick, miss, but you said all you wanted was Rook.”
Rook squeezed my hand. “Do you need anything?”
I swallowed the tightness out of my throat. My chin wobbled, which meant tears were imminent. “We’re in trouble. I’ve failed. I can’t even attempt what Master Agrippa wants, and the queen won’t commend me.”
Lilly gasped, but Rook squeezed my hand tighter. “You can cry if you like.”
“I don’t like,” I muttered. “They’re going to separate us. Unless I improve my lessons and you control your pain, they’ll send you away to Brighton. Lord Blackwood told me.”
Rook’s expression hardened. “They could do it?”
“Until I’m commended, they control everything.”
“Very well,” Rook said, and nodded to Lilly. “Start packing Miss Howel’s things. We’re leaving.”
“What?” Lilly gasped.