The Courtship of Julian St. Albans (4 page)

Alex chuckled. “It was the biggest,”
he said, and then he couldn’t resist adding, “I do like a man of
size.”

“I’d heard that about you,” said
Smedley, not even missing a beat. He went up another notch in Alex’s
estimation. “The amulet lead fizzled out.”

Alex took another big gulp of coffee, trying to
figure out what Smedley wanted of him in this situation. Sympathy, insight, or
smugness were the only possible reactions Alex could think of, but he had a
feeling there was some other way that a normal person would take this
conversation.

“We found the person that switched it, it
was a new maid, but no one could figure out why they’d hired her,” said
Smedley.

Alex chose insight. “Spell of confusion,
probably, and maybe a geas on her. The regular staff would be protected against
such things, so they had to lay it on her before she was hired.”

Smedley nodded. “That’s what Armistead
thought, too. He really can’t stand you, you know.”

Alex smirked. “The feeling is entirely
mutual,” he said. He’d found it went easier for him if he just admitted to
loathing the man, since his own rudeness was rather infamous around the
department.

Smedley laughed. “So he assured me. I’m
none too fond of him, myself, there’s just something off about him.”

Alex cocked his head, replaying some of his
early interactions with Armistead in his mind. “Perhaps, but there’s
something off about me, too.”

Smedley laughed again, clearly very amused by
this pronouncement. “Yeah, but Armistead would never admit it about
himself.”

That fit in with what Alex knew of the man’s
character, a cold arrogance that set Alex’s teeth on edge. Personally, he’d
always felt the ego wasn’t really earned, despite the impeccable work he’d seen
Armistead do on several cases.

“So how was she hired?” asked Alex,
steering the conversation back to the maid, a slightly safer topic.

Smedley shrugged. “The
usual way, I guess.”

“She’d have had to have references,”
said Alex. “Good ones, to get into a household like St. Albans.”

Smedley got a pleased grin on his face.
“Look at that, now I have another lead,” he said, downing another big
gulp of coffee. “For that, I’ll forgive you for stealing my mug.”

Alex couldn’t help but laugh.

~ ~ ~

When Alex got back to his flat, he considered
the one promise he’d allow Henry to wheedle out of him — that he write back to
Julian St. Albans. It would be a disgrace to his upbringing to ignore the
missive, especially after he’d been so gauche as to turn it in to the police as
evidence.

Not that he needed the original, anyway; the
words were burned into his memory by now, and he sat with a pencil and some
scratch paper to compose a suitable reply.

Sadly, he couldn’t think of
an appropriate book to steal from this time.

Julian had called him “Dear Alex” in
the greeting, but Alex wasn’t trying to encourage his misplaced or possibly
charm-led affections, so he addressed it more formally. Still, he’d been asked
a direct question and he had to answer it, so that’s where he started. He
chewed on the end of his pencil, trying to think of anything else he could say
while Julian was still a murder suspect at worst, and an involved party at
best.

In the end, he just didn’t
say much at all.

Mr.
St. Albans,

Of course I have thought
about you, I’m working with the police to solve your late lover’s murder. I
think of you every day.

My brother Victor tells me
you have invited our household to join in your Courtship, a very high honour
indeed.

With thanks,

Alexander Benedict

It was awkward, and mostly empty words, but
after writing a dozen or more drafts it was about the best that Alex could do.
Alex got out his personal stationery, a gift from Flora, and the matching pen
set that had been Fauna’s gift two birthdays ago, an unsubtle message to write
more often. The ink flowed smoothly and his handwriting, usually crabbed and
nearly illegible, was clean and calligraphic, a skill he’d had forced into him
at a young age.

After one last read to make sure he wasn’t
saying anything terribly offensive by accident, Alex sealed the monogrammed
card into its matching envelope and addressed it, then called a courier to take
it over to the St. Albans residence. He knew a stamp just wouldn’t do.

~ ~ ~

After a bracing cup of tea, Alex got out his
phone and stared balefully at it before doing something he’d been avoiding, but
had to admit was necessary. He called his sister.

“Alex,” she said by way of a
greeting. “I haven’t heard your voice in far too long.”

Alex nearly pointed out that she hadn’t heard
it yet, but then she would have to hear it for him to say it, so he let the
matter go. “Flora, dear, how have you been? Victor tells me you’re with
child.”

“It’s dreadful, all swollen ankles and
morning sickness, but worth it to finally have a baby of my own,” she
said, her voice full of self-pitying drama.

Alex sighed, reminded already of the many
reasons why his calls were rare. “That’s awful for you, Flora, but I’m
sure you’ll manage. You always did.”

“Oh, but this is worse!” said Flora,
and then she began a long and plaintive list of every single thing that had
plagued her since they last spoke. Alex made the appropriate noises in the
appropriate places, but he knew he had to let her run herself down or he’d
never get what he wanted out of her, for sulking.

Flora was excellent at
sulking.

Eventually her litany wound to a close, just as
Alex was pouring the last of the tea into his cup. “That’s terrible, dear,
you put up with so much,” he said, juggling phone and pot for a moment
before he got everything settled. “I bet you still keep up with the social
news even after all that,” he said, as sly as he could manage with someone
who’d grew up with him and knew all his tricks.

“Calling for gossip?” said Flora,
sounding pleased. “How unlike you, especially when you’re in the thick of
it.”

Alex chuckled. “Who
else would I ask? You know I’m well out of it.”

“Even when you were in it, you were
terrible at it,” she said, but her voice was affectionate. “I’ll
start with the St. Albans for you, but as payment I expect you to listen to all
of it.”

“All of it is important this time,
Flora,” he said, knowing that would surprise her. “It’s all
intertwined, so I can’t afford not to listen.”

“You’ve gotten
smarter,” she said approvingly.

Alex laughed. “It had
to happen sometime.”

True to her word she started at the St. Albans
household, but not with the murder as he expected. Instead she backtracked to
the death of Julian’s parents, and gave him his first piece of real valuable
information — it wasn’t Julian who ran the household after all. His widowed
sister, Emmeline Fitzhugh, had taken over when he showed no signs of interest,
and now kept the estate and all its responsibilities with an iron hand.

That was very interesting
indeed.

Flora moved on after that, briefly touching on
Julian and Mandeville, and the minor scandal that had occurred when Mandeville
moved into the St. Albans manor house so soon into their relationship. After
that she segued first into the Mandeville family’s fortune — or lack thereof
— and started talking about all the families that were expected to put men in
the Courtship.

Alex took notes.

By the time she was done, Alex had several
pages of scribbles, and a much more detailed mental picture of the state of
things. He found that, after years of police investigations, he better
understood the ebb and flow of power that underlay the structure of the upper
crust society, having seen it in miniature in everything from offices to
neighbourhoods. People fell into and out of favour, and it was never quite
clear whose favour mattered the most.

“You’re a godsend, Flora, dear,” said
Alex, already drawing lines and making connections in his mind, and on the
paper, between the various families and what they stood to gain from Julian’s
misfortune.

“I know that tone,” she said, amused.
“I’ll let you go, but you must promise to let me tag along when Fauna
drags you out shopping.”

“Why would she do
that?” asked Alex, pencil going still in his confusion.

She laughed. “You’ll
need new clothes for the Courtship, silly.”

She hung up before he could begin to form a
protest, and when he looked back down at his papers, he knew she was right.

The only way to follow the sound of those
subtle magics was to be in the thick of them.

May the elements help him, Alex was going to
have to Court Julian St. Albans.

CHAPTER
4

In Which We Endure Family Time, and Magic is Made

For the next few days Alex managed to avoid
Lapointe and the whole department by giving himself over to the bosom of his
family. Flora and Fauna took him shopping to some very expensive stores to buy
a whole new wardrobe. Victor set up a special trust for him at the bank to use
for the Courtship, though Alex forced him to agree that it was for the family’s
honour in accepting the invitation, rather than a personal debt incurred by
Alex. Henry took Alex shopping in all the places one might buy Courtship gifts,
and though Alex bought nothing there, he gathered up all the hints that were
dropped by everyone around him in order to plan his own form of Courtship.

After all, a man who went to all the usual
places was not a man who would stand out in a group of thirteen equally
well-heeled, well-bred suitors.

By the time Lapointe figured out what he was up
to, Alex would be firmly committed.

One thing that did manage to find him during
his many outings was a servant from the St. Albans estate, bearing another
letter from the young man in question. “Is he allowed to write to the
suitors before the Courtship?” Alex asked idly, trying to remember what
was and wasn’t in vogue with the complex process at the moment. Over the years
any number of things had been allowed or discouraged, from a requirement that
the consort-to-be be untouched to an encouragement that the consort-to-be have
a taste of all his suitors’ charms before he made his choice.

At the moment, everything seemed to be near the
middle ground, but he wanted to be sure.

“Oh, yes,” said Fauna, who was with
him at the jeweller’s. They’d raided the family’s heirlooms but found that,
with two brothers already outfitted, there wasn’t the full assortment of items
left that he’d need to look respectable. They were here getting what they did
have cleaned and filling in the gaps — a good pocket watch with chain and fob,
and a few extra sets of cufflinks and cravat pins. As much as Alex hated ties,
cravats were infinitely worse. “It’s a sign of great favour, that he’s
sending you these public love notes.”

“They’re not love notes,” said Alex
automatically, though he couldn’t have said what they actually were. He opened
the one he was holding while she had the jeweller bring out a tray of
ridiculously flashy watch fobs, biting his lip as he read the scrawling
handwriting that was, after his analysis, so very familiar.

Dear
Alexander,

Have I displeased you? I
thought perhaps I had, but Emmeline tells me that you’ve accepted our
invitation on behalf of the Benedicts, just as I hoped you would.

Is it that you think, as
many do, that a consort should be coy, a cold fish until it’s time for the
hotter passions? I think you know that’s never been my way.

I know we can’t meet until
I’m meeting them all, but I’ll await your words, for they are all of you I can
claim.

Yours,

Julian

Fauna smirked, reading just enough upside-down
to say, “It looks like a love note to me, Dear Alex.”

Alex put the note away and resisted the urge to
make a face at her. It would only get him reprimanded for his appalling lack of
decorum. He needed no more reminders of his family’s underlying disdain for his
basic personality this week than were completely unavoidable.

“How about this one?” asked Fauna,
and he sighed as she picked up the gaudiest fob on the tray.

“I thought a suitor was supposed to be
displaying his own personality?” asked Alex. “You know I’d never own
or wear anything on that tray.”

Fauna pretended to pout, a trait that had never
endeared him to her, and then something else caught her eye. “Bring me
those,” she said, pointing to the one set of baubles that were both more
expensive than the bejewelled ones in front of her, and the one thing that
would endear Alex to her. They were magic.

“As you will, ma’am,” said the
jeweller, putting away the first tray and bringing down the much sparser tray
from its charmed cupboard. There were only five items on it, but one was a set
of cufflinks and cravat pin in subdued black pearls, and there were two
different watch fobs to choose from. The other two items were rings of power,
and beyond even Victor’s generous allowance.

“Tell me about the enchantments on
these,” said Alex, pointing to the three things that piqued his interest.

“The black pearls contain an enchantment
of hope for the wounded heart, to bring love to one who was once
loveless,” said the jeweller. “They would be considered quite
appropriate for a Courtship, especially for a man famously known to be
romantically unavailable.”

“Am I so infamous, Fauna?” said Alex,
making it into a tease though a part of him did wonder just how this jeweller
knew so much of his plans.

“He’ll take them,” said Fauna,
ignoring Alex entirely. “You’re right, it’s too perfect.”

“I’ll take them, but not for me,”
said Alex, getting a look of annoyance from Fauna. “They’ll make a perfect
gift, as I have no heartbreak to heal. I am merely irritating.”

She laughed delightedly.
“As he says, then, gift-wrapped and a secret.”

“We are the souls of discretion,”
assured the jeweller, motioning for, not an assistant, but the shop’s manager
to take the set of pearls and gift-wrap them. “Are you still interested in
the watch fobs?”

“Yes, yes, I’ll need
one regardless,” said Alex, amused.

“Very good, sir,” said the jeweller.
He lifted the first fob in his gloved hands, the surface showing a fascinating
iridescence created by many layers of different metals. “This is a charm
for finding what is lost.”

“I’m familiar with the process, it’s very
time-consuming,” said Alex. “May I?” At the jeweller’s nod, Alex
took the piece, hearing the soft hum of magic as he handled it. It was an
attractive idea, and a lovely piece aesthetically, formed into an elaborate
knot of the design-chased metal that managed somehow not to confuse but clarify
his thoughts. “Still, it seems a shame to buy something I could make, were
I to feel like spending the time.”

The jeweller nodded, but rather than being
discouraged he looked smug as he lifted the final piece, a fire-scorched bit of
rough crystal with a green-tinged metal curled around it almost like tentacles.
“This piece enhances one’s magical senses, helping to attune the
mind,” said the jeweller, handing the piece to Alex before he could be
asked.

Alex felt a tingle of real power in this one,
and stared into the smoky crystal. “What’s it made of?” he asked. He
felt as much as heard the songs of all the magic around him separate into
individual threads, and he knew that this piece, he had to have, even if he had
to pay for it himself.

“Volcanic diamond and oceanic green
gold,” said the jeweller. “Is it to your liking?”

Alex chuckled. “It is, as you knew it
would be. Can we afford it, Fauna?” he asked, making puppy eyes at her as
he had when he was a boy and wanted part of her dessert as well as his own.

She laughed. “I’ll make Victor
agree,” she said, nodding to the jeweller. “It’s perfect for you,
useful and a bit creepy, but priceless all the same.”

That made Alex laugh, and he even relented when
she wanted him to buy a pair of ridiculous cufflinks and a cravat pin lightly
spelled to make the gems glow with an eerie inner light. Though he still put
his foot down at the awful gold-and-diamond ones she’d chosen earlier.

~ ~ ~

“Are you sure?” said Flora for the
fifth time, as Alex thumbed through the tailor’s fabrics.

Alex chuckled. “I’m quite sure, now sit
down before your husband comes to kill me. He only let you go out because I
promised to make you take it easy.”

Flora laughed, but she sat. “He’s just
overprotective because it took so long for this first one.”

The tailor emerged, and exchanged pained looks
with Flora. “Your first suit is ready to be tried on,” he said,
gesturing Alex into the dressing room.

Alex smirked, but much like the gifts, he
needed his clothing to make an impression. Julian was being rushed out of
mourning and into marriage, though the Courtship itself would take months, and
Alex wanted to acknowledge that.

Besides, he liked black.

He put on the clothes, fitted trousers and
collarless undershirt, waistcoat and overcoat and finally the collar and
cravat, using the set of ebony pins and cufflinks he’d acquired, until he was
head to toe black, his shoes polished to the proper shine, his skin pale and
hair a shock of black atop his head. He had to admit the tailor had done a good
job; rather than trying to match everything, he had given the trousers a subtle
black pinstripe that lengthened Alex’s already long legs, done the waistcoat in
a black-on-black brocade, and the shirt was just slightly charcoal while the
cravat was a deep, rich black. When Alex stepped out to show his sister, he
stood tall.

“Hm,” she said, the closest she’d
come to admitting he’d been right. “You are very striking,” she said
reluctantly.

“As I need to be,” said Alex, turning
so she could see the fashionable narrowness of his waist, shown off by the cut
of his coat. “I approve, sir, you have taken my idea and improved it a
thousandfold.”

If the tailor knew that Alex was quoting, his
pleased expression never showed it.

~ ~ ~

After three days of his family, Alex was ready
for a break, which came in the form of a phone call from Lapointe.

“You’ve been a busy
little boy,” she said, by way of greeting.

He laughed, but it was a tired laugh, and there
was still so much to do. “It’s necessary,” he said. “I’m
concerned that we didn’t know about the sister taking care of his affairs
before.”

“She’s the one who hired the maid,”
said Lapointe, confirming his suspicions. “Though the girl did have
impeccable credentials, apparently she grew too pretty for the wife at her last
job and was sent on with references.”

“Which makes her perfect for the St.
Albans home, where I’m sure they’ve sent on a handsome gardener or two,”
said Alex, bitterly amused. His own family had been quite annoyed with him for
being gay, if only because it meant that they had to fire their mother’s
favourite pastry chef when a guest remarked on how he seemed to dote upon their
son, who’d been all of thirteen at the time.

He still missed the man’s
pumpkin biscuits.

“I take it you’ve caught up on the gossip
since we last spoke,” she said dryly.

Alex sighed. “And then some,” he
said, and then, because he knew deep down that she really did understand,
“I’ve been visiting with family all week.”

“Oh, you poor dear,” she said, but
despite the mocking words her tone was sincere. “And you’re still
standing?”

“The only men in white coats who have seen
me have been retailers, I assure you,” he said, then he couldn’t help but
chuckle, “Though too many more of those, and I might’ve gone stark
raving.”

“Impossible, you’re already quite mad
enough,” she said, chortling with him. “Smedley’s a bit annoyed, of
course.”

Alex’s chuckles turned to a wry laugh.
“What, our coffee bonding didn’t give me this much leeway? I’ll have you
know that forces greater than his were working to get me into that
Courtship.”

“Did your mother
call?” she said, surprised.

“No, and hush, lest the fates hear you and
bring me to her attention. No, just every other family member, and another
letter from young Julian as well.” Alex paced around his own living room,
the wood floors comforting under his bare feet. If Mother got involved,
everything would go swiftly downhill. She had never approved of anything about
him, and she’d be mortified at the very idea of his wardrobe gambits.

“What did he have to say?” asked
Lapointe, trying to sound neutral though he could tell she was highly
entertained by the whole affair.

Alex smirked to himself, “Don’t you wish
you knew,” he teased, and hung up.

A minute later, his phone
rang again, this time with Smedley’s number.

He let it go to voicemail.

~ ~ ~

After a nice, long bath and another short talk
with Lapointe, Alex got himself ready to give himself over to the care of his
true first love — magic.

The spelled cufflink set was a good first gift,
but once he started with something so precious and magical, it wouldn’t do to
go back to anything mundane. Alex didn’t have any of Julian’s hair, but he had
the love note which he’d yet to answer, and that would do for the next gift he
had planned. He wasn’t sure if he’d have enough time during the Courtship
itself, though he already had plans to beg a lock of hair from young Julian,
should he make it far enough to owe more gifts and have time between events to
make them.

This time, Alex was creating something that was
both simpler and more complex — a potion of heart’s ease. Alex felt that it
was appropriate, at least while he was still in the first stage of the layered
Courtship, to do what he could to both acknowledge and soothe Julian’s grief at
losing his parents, and then his lover not a year later.