Page 32 of A Sorceress Comes to Call
Hester snorted. “I thought it would be interesting to see what Evangeline would do.”
“Interesting.” Imogene turned over a single card and studied it thoughtfully. “Yes, I suppose. Adding a tiger to another tiger’s enclosure is also interesting, I’m told.”
“She was Samuel’s mistress at one time. I am hoping he might be reminded of why.”
“Or hoping that his new flame will show herself badly by example? Mmm.” Imogene held up the card she had drawn. It was the queen of spades. “Be careful, Hester. You may drive her to move more quickly on your brother than you want.”
Hester grunted. “I know. I just hope that between you and I and Richard and Willard, we can find some way to stop her.”
“Oh, well, if Willard’s involved, what chance does she have?” Imogene rose to her feet. “Perhaps I’ll go play cards with this houseguest of yours. It might prove very interesting for all involved.”
Master Strauss cornered Cordelia at breakfast, and was talking about horse breeding. Again.
“… but the hunting lines out of Stanville’s stables! Gad, but if you could see them! Incredible necks, the lot of them…”
“Mm-hmm,” said Cordelia. She knew that she was supposed to make eye contact when someone was speaking to her, but young Strauss had a pimple at the corner of his mouth that had become huge and white-headed and her gaze kept drifting back down to it involuntarily.
“… and hindquarters. Bunchy, you know, which was out of fashion for years, but that’s where the power comes from in your hunters, but of course Stanville knew that, so he bought some of the finest studs in the country for a song…”
Everyone got pimples, of course, she didn’t think any less of him for it, but it still drew the eye like a magnet. Cordelia glanced away to find her tea and took too large a swallow, nearly choking. She dabbed at her mouth with a napkin.
“… fifteen years later everyone is scrambling…”
Was there any way to tell him? No, there couldn’t be. The Ladies’ Book was very clear: “Avoid carefully any allusion to the personal defects of your companion.”
Her mother came in, which was either a reprieve or a dreadful escalation. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, more likely.
“Mrs. Green will be here later this afternoon,” said Hester. “And Lord Evermore. Then our party shall be rounded out nicely!” She beamed at the room in general.
“I have not had the pleasure of Lord Evermore’s acquaintance,” said Evangeline.
“Oh, a fine fellow,” said the Squire. “Wealthy as you like, but not high in the instep. He sets a good table, but he’s not one of these frippery fellows you see about town, with their collar so starched that they can’t turn their heads.”
“And Mrs. Green is a delight,” said Mrs. Strauss. “I always enjoy her company. Such a fine idea to invite her, Hester.”
“Oh, she will put us all in the shade,” said Hester, turning the newspaper. “She dresses so elegantly. I’d resent her terribly if she wasn’t so charming.”
“Good old Penelope,” said the Squire. “Always livens up a room, doesn’t she?”
Cordelia slipped a quick glance at her mother. Evangeline was buttering her toast with every impression of enjoyment, but her eyes flashed.
It occurred to Cordelia that this Mrs. Green might be considered a rival for the Squire’s affections. Her heart sank. Her mother did not like to be thwarted. Has she ever had a rival? What will she do?
Apparently what she would do was catch Cordelia looking at her. Evangeline’s eyes narrowed just slightly, and Cordelia quickly wrenched her head away, back to Master Strauss, who was still telling her breathlessly about Lord Stanville’s stables. Cordelia wondered if she was supposed to know who Lord Stanville was. Was that something that everybody knew? Maybe he was famous and it would be strange that she didn’t know. Better to simply smile and nod.
She found herself staring at the pimple again and dropped her gaze hurriedly.
“Oh, look at this,” Lady Strauss said, reading aloud from the paper. “What a marvelous scandal! ‘At the wedding of Lord M——, when the service was performed, this paper is informed that the bride’s hair, previously blond, transformed to mouse brown on the spot. Could magic have been used to change her hair color? This paper makes no judgment, but is unaware of alternate explanations. Lord M——, as readers will doubtless be aware, has been heard to express decided partiality for blondes…’” She folded down the edge of the paper and grinned over the top of it at her husband. “Now aren’t you glad that you didn’t prefer blondes?”
Her husband laughed. “Silly chit,” said the Squire, shaking his head. “Thinking that a spell would hold up through a church wedding. What was she thinking?”
“Water, wine, and salt,” murmured Evangeline, bringing a dainty bite to her lips and then patting them with the napkin.
“P’raps the fellow who sold her the spell said it would hold up,” said Hester.
“Two-bit conjurers always promise things they can’t deliver,” said Evangeline, with an artful roll of her eyes. “A real sorcerer would have known better.”
“Not many of those around though, are there?” said the Squire. “Not for a hundred years or so, if they ever existed at all. Now they just go around magicking up horses so they don’t look lame when the buyer’s there, or charming away warts. Or changing the hair color on silly girls.”
