“God forbid,” I said devoutly.
He laughed. “And speaking of my wife...” His mischievous grin shifted into tenderness as Amy sailed toward us through the crowd, resplendent in glittering gold velvet with bright silver trimmings in the overdress that parted and fell around her magnificently rounded stomach. “Darling,” he said as she joined us. “You’ve missed the most entertaining—”
“Jonathan!”
“Don’t tease your sister, darling,” Amy said calmly as she slipped into place between us. “Unless it involves any really interesting gossip, of course, in which case I want to hear all about it immediately.”
“Amy!”
“Good evening, darling,” said my betrayer, smiling at me. “Have you spoken to Wrexham yet?”
“Not in words, so far,” Jonathan told her cheerfully. “Only impressively longing glances. The air was positively sizzling between them when we first arrived.”
“Oh!” Amy let out a tsk of disappointment. “And I missed it!”
“Don’t worry,” said my brother. “I’m sure we’ll have plenty more action by the end of the evening. Personally, I predict a storm of broken dishes over supper and an illicit embrace in a broom closet by bedtime.”
I set my teeth together. “Your husband,” I informed Amy, “has the most appallingly immature sense of humor. Can’t you do something about that before he gets much older?”
“It depends,” said Amy, her eyes sparkling. “Can I be the one to discover you two in the broom closet? Please? I promise to scream very loudly so that he’s utterly compromised and can’t possibly escape.”
“Ohhh!” I gave up on my incurable family. “If anyone ends up in a broom closet,” I told them, “it’ll be the two of you, when I lose my temper and lock you in there.”
“Mm.” Jonathan grinned down at his wife. “Sounds fun.”
“Shush,” she told him firmly. But there was an unmistakable smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth as she turned away from him. “Cassandra, I want to introduce you to somebody. A gentleman. I’m quite certain you’d enjoy sitting next to him at supper.”
“I—what?” I blinked, caught off guard. “Are you matchmaking me with someone else now, too?”
My brother let out a low whistle that was too quiet for anyone outside our family group to hear the vulgarity. “Does he know that he’ll have one of the Boudiccate’s own officers of magic glaring daggers at him across the table?”
“He’s a magician himself,” Amy told both of us. “A weather wizard, to be exact.”
Aha. My shoulders relaxed as I smiled back at her. “In that case, I’d be delighted.”
“You would?” Jonathan’s eyebrows shot upward.
“I’ll explain it all later, my love.” Amy patted her husband’s arm comfortingly. “Now, look that way—just there—yes, here he comes.” She smiled brightly as a solidly built man in his mid-thirties, with a bright crimson waistcoat and thick sandy hair, shouldered his way toward us through the shifting crowd. “Why, Mr. Sansom! You’re just in time. May I introduce you to my sister-in-law, Miss Harwood, and my husband, Mr. Harwood?”
“Delighted, delighted.” He gave a rough bow in each of our directions before his gaze fastened back on me. “I hear you’re curious about weather wizardry, Miss Harwood. Want to learn the real truth beyond the pap and nonsense we’re all fed at the Great Library, eh what?”
My spine stiffened, but I forced a polite smile. “Exactly.”
“Harrumph!” He gave a nod of evident satisfaction. “Well, then. I’m the man to tell you all about it!”
“I can hardly wait,” I murmured as I took his arm.
And I didn’t have to. Mr. Sansom, as it transpired, was more than willing to pour the fruits of all his years of labor into a receptive and knowledgeable ear at long last—and as any respectably trained, practicing magician would have used all of his magical abilities to extricate himself after no more than five minutes of such rampant quackery, I supposed a famously failed and broken magician like myself must have seemed his next-best option.
Four months ago, I would have cast a spell of deafness on myself for both of our sakes. But as it was, seated next to him at one of the three long tables that filled Lady Cosgrave’s dining room, there was no possibility of escape...and supper that night seemed that it would never end.
“...But then the Druids, you see, understood the worth of proper diets! No milk or bread for them, no, none of that nonsense. They intended to be one with nature, Miss Harwood. There’s no spellcraft required whatsoever when you’re already part of the earth yourself!”
“I see,” I said faintly. A footman was making his way between the guests, offering refills of bubbling, popping elven wine from a tall crystal decanter; I scooped up my now-empty glass and thrust it upward in desperation. One sparkling sip later, and I could finally bring myself to ask, for courtesy’s sake: “Have you had much luck, Mr. Sansom, in becoming one with nature yourself?”
“Have I?” Snorting, he ripped into his sliced ham with vigor. “Miss Harwood, I cannot count the number of nights in the past decade when I’ve felt nature’s blessing of moonlight on my bare buttocks!”
I had to clap one hand to my mouth to stop wine spraying out of it. Choking, I lowered my glass to the tablecloth.
I didn’t let my eyes drift for even a moment to the next table, where Wrexham sat facing me.
I didn’t dare.
Oh, I had no fear that he would be glaring at my seating partner, no matter what Jonathan had mischievously predicted. If Wrexham had been that sort of brutishly jealous man, I would never have affianced myself to him in the first place.
No, what I dreaded was far worse.
I had a terrible feeling that if I met his gaze, I would discover an unholy amusement at my predicament. And then there might have to be broken dishes after all.
“Apologies for my frankness, Miss Harwood,” Mr. Sansom said briskly, “but weather wizardry isn’t for the weak of spirit.”
“So I see.” I breathed deeply as I lowered my hand. The servants’ door in the far wall opened and three new footmen walked into the room, carrying large silver trays: our next course. Lady Cosgrave had apparently ordered a feast to awe the ages.
Ah, well. As long as I couldn’t escape anyway... “So what do you think of our current weather, sir? As one who has such a very close communion with nature.”
“Ah. Hmm. Well.” He accepted a large, goggle-eyed fish and waved away the vegetables that were proffered on the side. “It is a tad on the chilly side, I grant you. But not too cold for me! No, I’ll be out at the next full moon as always, and I can tell you I won’t require any coverings.”
“I understand.” I looked with sympathy upon the fish, whose open eyes stared upward in horror.
The clock ticked with ominous slowness against the wall.
“Yes,” I said to the footman who hovered behind me. “I believe I will have another refill, after all.”