Concealed (Beholder #2)

Amelia raised her gloved hand. “Don’t call her Elea. For the purposes of this visit, her name is Fleur.” She turned to face me. “Don’t pay any attention to him, Fleur. We have far more important topics to discuss.”

I leaned back in the carriage and eyed Amelia. She really was a marvel. For a girl who’d spent years hiding out in a mansion, she embraced her role as spy with gusto. She’d planned every last detail of this trip, from recruiting a small army of servants overnight to ensuring ribbons were woven into the horses’ manes. I folded my hands neatly at my waist and gave her my full attention. “Whatever you wish to review, I’m ready and waiting.”

“Now that we’re all here…” Amelia glared over at Philippe. “We must discuss what to say to the Marchioness.”

“Don’t you include the Marquis as well?” I asked.

“Why bother?” Philippe rolled his eyes. “The Marchioness runs the place.”

“Tell Fleur how you know that.”

“No.” Philippe winked. He really was a charming rogue.

“Oh yes, you will. This is key information.” Amelia wagged her finger at her brother. “Tell, tell.”

Philippe sighed dramatically. “No, I’ll let my sister share that detail.”

“Fine.” Amelia rolled her eyes. “Philippe and the Marchioness have been lovers for months now. Secretly, of course.”

My eyes widened. “Oh.” I’d known Philippe was a scoundrel, but I’d no idea he went with married women. I tried not to look like a country bumpkin who was made speechless by such antics. Not sure I succeeded. “Oh. I suppose…”

“Yes?” Philippe pulled up right beside my window and leaned in closer. He was enjoying my discomfort far too much.

“I suppose you know her well, then.”

He pursed his full lips. “In certain ways.”

Now Philippe was getting on my nerves. I could see why Amelia found it a challenge to get him onto serious topics. “What is she like?”

“She’ll play the courtier until she’s ready to trade. Everything with her has a price. After that point, you might as well be bartering pigs at market.”

I stifled the urge to grumble. “Then remind me, why am I playing the courtier? Wouldn’t it be easier to simply get right to the trading? Simply ask the question. What do you want in exchange for allowing us to view the gallery?”

Philippe’s blue eyes twinkled with mischief. “Please. The Royals adore their pomp and frippery. You’ll get nowhere if you go right to bargaining. In fact, I had to stop by on formal visits for weeks before she let me into her bed. And then, when I got there—”

“That’s quite enough, brother dear.” Amelia made shoo fingers at him. “I’d rather not be sick on my gown.” She turned to me. “Have you any other questions?”

I could only smile. She really did fuss over me. After a lifetime of being alone, it was nice to have someone my age who cared about my well-being. “I’m fine.”

She narrowed her eyes. “And your preparations?” The way she said that word, it was clear she meant magick.

I counted off my spells on my fingertips. “I spoke a dozen incantations since last night. I’ve hidden my power well, I think. As for the rest…” I gestured to the skirts of my gown. “I should say you made some magick of your own. I scarcely recognize myself.” Which was true. I’d never worn face paint before, let alone curled my hair. I looked like an entirely different person.

“You forgot all the work we did yesterday on your history, Fleur.” Amelia tried to look stern, but there was no hiding the small smile rounding her mouth. “How are we related?”

Philippe rode up closer to the carriage again. “I need to remember this too.” Amazing how he could keep perfect pace with us while moving. The man must flirt with women through carriage windows all the time.

I recited our story by heart. “We have the same father and different mothers. Your mum was of noble blood; mine wasn’t. We discovered our shared father when he approached both of us, looking for money.” That last part of the story was true. Amelia’s father was a con man and gambler. To pay off a debt, he tried to kidnap her from the orphanage and sell her to a brothel. The nuns took him down with a kill spell. I’d say that was harsh, but if he’d tried something like that at my old Cloister, the Sisters would have tortured him for a week first. You don’t want to mess with Necromancer nuns.

“Excellent.” Amelia bobbed a little on her seat, she was so happy. “Now, I’m also wondering about the Marchioness—”

“Look,” I said solemnly. “You’ve recited the minutiae of the Havilland family to me by the hour. If I don’t remember it now, I never will.” I gestured toward the window. “Besides, we’re almost there.”

Amelia’s eyes got wide with fear. “You’re right.”

“We’ll do swimmingly. No one could have done a better job preparing me. Veronique would be proud.”

Amelia exhaled slowly. “Thank you, Elea. I mean, Fleur. I needed that.”

“You’re most welcome.” I leaned out the window and waved to Philippe. “How much longer now?”