“Oh, how lovely you are, my dear!” the countess cried. “You remind me already of my youngest. You can be sure we shall be fighting off more suitors than we can handle in no time!” Lady Hayworth’s eyes swept briefly over Dora, but then continued past her. Dora was wearing a dark, sturdy dress which must have made her appear as a very fine lady’s maid, rather than as a member of the family. Lady Hayworth turned back towards the townhouse, beckoning them forward. “You must be awfully tired from the road,” she said. “Please come inside, and we shall set a table—”
“This is my cousin, Theodora!” Vanessa blurted out. She reached out to grab Dora’s arm, as though to make sure no one could mistake the subject of her introduction. The countess turned with a slight frown. Her gaze settled back upon Dora – and then upon her eyes. Lady Hayworth’s warm manner cooled to a faint wariness as she took in the mismatched colours there.
“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 studied Vanessa’s face carefully, 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 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 within 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 dreamed of angels on the London docks, filing up and down the pier and hustling crates of tea onto ships.