Page 60 of A Sorceress Comes to Call
The ghost of a smile crossed Hester’s lips, despite everything. “I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t important.”
Richard nodded. “I believe you. And if I hadn’t, I would have after I talked to Parker. He’s quite sane, as far as anyone can tell, but if you ask why he did it, he gets very agitated. He says he didn’t want to, but he can’t—or won’t—tell anyone why. The wardens told me that if they press too hard, he starts choking, as if he’s trying to talk but can’t. Eventually he blacks out. They warned me specifically against asking, for just that reason.”
Hester nodded to Cordelia. “She did something, then.”
“She must have.”
Richard glanced between them. “Would you care to explain to me, then?”
“After,” said Hester, leaning forward. If they tried to explaining everything all at once, it would become a hopeless muddle. “Finish your story first. What did you learn?”
“I asked him if he knew Lady Evangeline, and he began choking almost at once. I thought the wardens were going to throw me out. Fortunately I backed off and managed to calm him down a little. So then I asked about the carriage.” Evermore shook his head slowly. “It was the damnedest thing—beg pardon—”
“I think we’re a little past curses by now,” said Hester, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. “I’ll swear a blue streak later if you like.”
“Yes, well. As I said, it was the damnedest thing. He could talk about that. He seized on it. Telling me about his cabriolet and where he bought it and that it was stolen. She took it, he said. He couldn’t say who she was. It was like he was fighting to get words out.” He turned to Cordelia, his eyes cool and full of questions. “Her, he said. With the white horse.”
“And now,” said Lord Evermore, “will you explain what the devil is going on? I left a murder behind me and I’ve come back to a wedding, it seems. Is this revelation going to stop that? Because I will tell you, Hester, that Parker’s a slender reed to hang your hopes on. I don’t think he’s long for this world. If he lasts long enough for them to hang him, I’d be surprised.”
Cordelia winced. “Lord Evermore,” she said, holding up a hand. “Before that… I have to ask… do you know if anyone survived? Any of his…” She had to stop and swallow. “His daughters, I mean.”
Evermore cocked his head, still watching her thoughtfully. She wanted to shrink away from that gaze, but she squared her shoulders. You can’t stop your mother if you flinch every time someone looks at you. And he’s not angry at you.
“I don’t know all of them,” Evermore admitted. “I can find out, if it’s important. But his two youngest daughters survived, I know that much. Their governess shoved them out the window onto the roof. She was badly injured herself, but seems to have survived.”
Ellen was the youngest. Cordelia felt the hard knot in her chest loosen, just a little. Ellen was still alive.
She didn’t know how to feel. She wanted to get up and dance around the room or scream or burst into tears. Even though the dead were still dead and it probably shouldn’t matter whether she knew them or not, it clearly did matter. Very much. She picked up her cup and took a sip, trying, like many before her, to drown her emotions with tea.
“I promised you an explanation,” Hester said. She tugged a bellpull, and a moment later the butler appeared in the doorway, tall and thin as a well-dressed stork. “Willard, can you be certain we aren’t disturbed for a bit?”
“I shall see to it personally,” he said gravely.
“You’re a prince among men.”
“I aspire only to be a prince among butlers, my lady.” It sounded almost like a joke, but it was delivered so deadpan that Cordelia couldn’t be sure until she heard Hester laugh.
The explanation was, of necessity, long and convoluted, even though Hester did most of it. Evermore was particularly appalled by being made obedient, and Cordelia had to explain it at great length. “And you can’t move by yourself? At all? Bloody hell.”
“And there we are,” said Hester. “And while I was dithering and sending you off to get proof, she convinced my brother to marry her.”
Evermore rubbed his face. “How do we stop the wedding?”
“I don’t think we do.”
Cordelia stared at Hester. So did Evermore. “What? You’re suggesting we just let Samuel march to the altar with this—this—”
“Sorcerer,” said Hester. “Yes. Because we have no proof, except Cordelia’s word and Mr. Parker’s condition. Would you believe that, if you were in love with her?”
He slumped back in his chair and raked his hands through his hair. “I’m not sure if I should believe it now. It sounds like a fairy tale.” His breath came out in a long whoosh. “If it’s true, though, going to Samuel would only tip our hand to Lady Evangeline.”
“Precisely. And you’ve seen what she does when she feels thwarted. It’s vital that we don’t confront her until we have some way to stop her.”
“The old stories say water, wine, and salt—” Evermore began.
“And could you have gotten that down Penelope’s throat in the moment?”
“… Shit,” said Evermore, and didn’t apologize for his language that time.
