Page 73 of A Sorceress Comes to Call
The few guests filled the rest of the pews. Cordelia sat in the row ahead of them. Her hair was pinned up neatly and her neck looked as fragile as a flower stem. Richard sat down beside her, as befitted a fiancé, though he winked at Hester over her head.
Hester’s brother wore a new suit, with a deep blue waistcoat. He stood by the altar looking desperately uncomfortable, and Hester entertained a brief hope that he might be having second thoughts. Not that Samuel would abandon a bride at the altar. He’d sooner sell his best hunter for dog food.
She still hadn’t quite worked out how she was going to disentangle Samuel. Once they were wed, there was no reason Doom couldn’t actively bespell him. Hester’s only hope was that they would find a way to break her power and prove her crimes sufficiently for the Squire to cast her aside.
Imogene’s suggestion was rather more practical. “Let’s just kill her,” she had suggested, “dump the body somewhere, and never tell anyone about it.”
“Can we actually do that?” Cordelia had asked.
“No,” said Richard.
“I don’t see why not,” said Imogene.
“No one is killing anyone,” Hester said firmly.
“Thank you,” said Richard.
“… At least not until we’ve figured out how to keep her from doing something horrible and magical that takes us all with her.”
Richard, who was fundamentally an honorable man, folded his arms and tried not to look completely appalled. “I was not expecting this house party to involve quite so much premeditated murder,” he muttered.
“If the alternative is having my brother end up like Parker, I’ll premeditate all kinds of murders,” Hester told him, “with a song in my heart.”
“Fair enough.”
“You wouldn’t be complaining if she was a man,” muttered Imogene.
“If she was a man, I’d challenge her to a duel and be done with the matter.”
“She’d make you obedient,” said Cordelia softly, “and make you miss. Or shoot yourself instead.” Which had ended the discussion completely, so far as that went.
The church doors opened and Doom entered. Her gown was a deep ivory color that flattered her skin and brought out warm highlights in her chestnut hair. Samuel turned to look at her and his eyes bugged a little. So much for second thoughts.
The ceremony itself was swift. The priest wisely opted not to preach a sermon, and he only stumbled over the ritual words a little. Bride and groom each took a sip from the cup of wine, accepted the brittle wafer of salt, and washed it down with water from the second cup.
Cordelia had told her repeatedly that the Squire wasn’t bespelled, and that her mother wasn’t using glamours on her appearance. Hester hadn’t doubted her, but she’d still held out a slim hope that something would happen—that Samuel would suddenly leap back and demand to know what was happening, or that an illusion would break and Doom would turn out to be a gnarled old crone with donkey ears or something equally heartening.
But nothing did happen, except that the priest said “I pronounce you man and wife!” and Samuel planted a smacking kiss on Doom’s lips and sealed the bargain.
I see them!
Cordelia nearly jumped out of her skin when the ghost spoke to her in the middle of the wedding. She didn’t yelp, but it was a near thing. Evermore glanced at her, brow furrowed in concern, and she shook her head.
I can see everyone! Maybe it’s the church—the holy ground—I don’t know! You’re not just blobs anymore. There’s Hester and Imogene and the Squire and—
Penelope’s voice cut off abruptly, almost as startling as its arrival. Cordelia waited all through the ceremony, but she didn’t speak again, and there was no way to whisper a question without someone noticing.
When the bride and groom had left the chapel and the rest of the guests began to file out, she paused as if to admire a flower arrangement, and whispered “Penelope?” behind her hand.
No response.
Did Mother notice her somehow? If she could see everyone more clearly, did that mean that other people could see her more clearly? She stopped talking right after she mentioned the Squire, and Mother was right beside him.
Did Mother do something to her? Or did the water, wine, and salt banish her? She’s a ghost, and ghosts aren’t supposed to like water or salt or holy ground… although I’m not sure how they feel about wine…
Cordelia mulled those questions over all through the return to the estate and the interminably long wedding breakfast. Everyone even remotely associated with Chatham House came to wish the couple well and help themselves to free food. Evangeline smiled and glittered through the entire meal, thanking everyone and curling her hands around the Squire’s elbow every few minutes.
It was a very different Evangeline who came to Cordelia’s rooms after breakfast. Alice said “Excuse me, ma’am—” but the door was already open and Evangeline pushed past her without a glance.
