The Dream-Maker's Magic (13 page)

“That's not
me
,” I said, though the mirror image mimicked every word I said.

“You could go to the queen's ball, looking like that,” Emily said. “If you had the right dress. If you knew how to dance.”

I shook my head and my reflection did the same. “I don't.”

“Well, you could do anything else you wanted to do,” she said with a laugh. “Go on the stage as the lead in a play. Make someone fall in love with you.”

I met her eyes in the mirror. “What did
you
do when you looked like this?”

Her smiling face was instantly sad and closed. “I didn't try such skills on myself,” she said quietly. “I was the dresser for a wealthy girl.
She
was the one who looked lovely when I was done with my work.”

“I find it hard to believe,” I said, “that there was ever a place where someone didn't notice that you were the beautiful one.”

She turned away and began packing up the items she had drawn from a well-worn leather bag. “Beauty is not worth the trouble it brings,” she said. “You should be glad, Kellen. You can take on any coloring you want. I've watched you sometimes. You can almost disappear, if you feel like it. Sometimes, when there are rough men in the dining hall, you make yourself look as if you aren't even a girl. They turn away from you—they don't bother you. But you can be pretty when you want—all you have to do is smile, really, and people smile back because they like the way you look. You can present whatever face you feel like to the world. I've never been able to do that. People look at me, and they see my hair and they see my face, and they think I'm a certain kind of person. They don't see anything else.”

I was sorry for her suddenly, and I never would have thought I could be sorry for this gorgeous creature. “That's not what we see,” I said quietly. “Sarah and Betsy and Gryffin and me. We see someone who is kind, who tries hard, someone it is good to have as a friend.”

“Yes,” she said. “I was lucky when I landed here.” She gave me a straight look from those deep hazel eyes. “I have not had much luck till now.”

“I think Jack Parmer likes you,” I said.

She laughed aloud at that. “So maybe I am even luckier than I thought.”

After that, of course, I could not help but love Emily as much as everyone else did. She taught me how to curl my hair myself, and I bought a pair of my own tongs from a peddler who passed through. I liked the improvement in my appearance enough to use the tongs once or twice a week, but I did not like the investment in time, and I never grew interested in learning how to apply cosmetics. I was never going to be the frilly sort of girl that Emily was, or even a softly feminine sort of woman like Sarah. I was always going to carry around some of the toughness I had acquired in my years masquerading as a boy, and I would never lose the sense of independence I had acquired when I had been free to behave however I liked. So I was something of a hybrid—an original, as Sarah liked to call me—and I found myself content with that.

But then, for that year, I was content with so many things.

I
t was summer again—of course—when everything changed at once.

Juliet had arrived on the morning stage, on her way back from Merendon. Her face looked pale and drawn, and she had lost weight since we had seen her last. We all crowded up to her table as Emily served her breakfast, even Gryffin wheeling over from his post at the front desk.

“You look as if you've had bad news,” Sarah said, pouring Juliet a cup of tea. “Maybe you should stay here for a day and relax. All the upstairs bedrooms are empty at the moment. We wouldn't even charge you.”

Juliet gave her a brief smile. “You know—I think I might. I'm so tired. I don't think I can travel another inch today.”

“So what happened?” I asked. I was always the blunt one. “Did you lose the case?”

She lifted the hot tea to her mouth and carefully sipped. “Not yet, but I'm going to. The judge drew me aside yesterday and told me I had best go home and sell any of my spare belongings. He was going to rule in favor of my uncle, and
I
was going to be charged fees for sustaining a frivolous lawsuit.”

We all exclaimed in dismay at that. “What did Raymond say?” Gryffin asked.

“He wasn't there. I just left him a note as I was leaving. I felt so defeated. And poor Raymond—I know he's been trying, I know he's done his best but…I guess the case was too much for him. I don't know how he's going to react when the decision comes down. I want to be there to support him but I—I can't even support myself right now.”

“Maybe you should stay more than a day,” Sarah said.

Juliet tried to smile again. “Perhaps I should move to Thrush Hollow. Take a job at the Arms. I will have to be working somewhere, I expect.”

“We'd be happy to have you,” Sarah said. “We can always use more hands.”

Emily pushed her blonde hair back from her face and smiled. “She can clear the mousetraps,” she said. “Give me more time to chase off the possums.”

“I hope you're not joking,” Juliet said. “Because I might be serious. I have so little left now. Not even hope.”

Just then the door blew back and a resplendent figure swaggered in. He was dressed in such fine clothes, and wore such a rakish hat, that for a moment I did not recognize him. Not until he had swept the hat from his head and bent double in a magnificent bow did I realize it was Raymond.

“Friends and acquaintances, best wishes on this most glorious day!” he cried. “Drinks for everyone! If it's too early to indulge in spirits, then refresh yourselves with tea! With lemonade! With any elixir you choose! We have cause to celebrate!”

Juliet rose to her feet, her face white, her hands gripping the edge of the table. The other dozen or so customers in the dining hall were all staring and starting to whisper. Raymond looked like a madman, but a happy one.

“Raymond,” Juliet whispered, unable to find her voice. “Did you—what did—but the judge—”

“
Ha
for the judge!” Raymond said, sauntering deeper in the room, his fingers tucked into the edges of his suspenders. “The liar. The cheat! I knew as soon as I saw him he'd accepted bribes from your loathsome uncle. I've had dealings with the man before and knew he was not to be trusted. I just had to wait for him to make a move—to trip himself up, so to speak—and when I heard he had approached you yesterday—”

“I think I'm going to faint,” Juliet said very clearly, and sank back bonelessly onto her chair. There was a flurry for a few moments as Sarah patted her cheeks and Emily bathed her face in cold water and everyone else in the whole restaurant stirred and muttered. Finally, Juliet was revived, though still pale. She stared at Raymond with eyes darkened by emotion. “Tell me,” she demanded. “Quickly as you can.”

With a flourish, Raymond pulled up a chair at her table and seated himself. “The judge was corrupt. But I have a few friends in Merendon from my more prosperous days, and I had them in place. One was a magistrate, who reviewed all the evidence as it was presented. Another was a very handy fellow who is good at sniffing out wrongdoing. He was there to overhear the judge send you off yesterday. Before the case had been settled!
You
did not realize that such an action signaled your willingness to forfeit your claim.”

Juliet sat up.
“What?”

“Yes! But only if you came to the decision of your own free will! For the legal code clearly states that any party may void his claim to restitution at any point, as long as he makes such voidance without duress and in good faith. But if he—”

“Raymond. Please,” Juliet begged. “What is the outcome of the case?”

Raymond looked surprised. “Why, the judge has been remanded to the magistrate, of course. He confessed that your uncle bribed him to throw the suit in his favor. And bribery, as everyone knows, negates the rights of the party involved, which means your uncle has lost the case.” There was a moment of dead silence as everyone tried to decide what this meant. Raymond added gently, “Which means that you won. The property is yours. I have the validated will in my briefcase.”

Juliet shrieked, but the sound was lost in the general commotion of joy. Everyone was whooping, clapping, throwing their hands in the air. Emily hugged Raymond, Sarah hugged Juliet, I hugged Gryffin, and then we went round robin and hugged everyone else. Betsy came running in from the kitchen and screamed with excitement when she heard the news. No one in the entire dining hall could sit still to finish a meal. All the patrons were on their feet, and talking with one another, and telling their own stories of good fortune narrowly achieved. It was lucky that most people had already been served, because it was at least an hour before any of us thought to pay attention to any customer except Juliet.

“We must have a party,” Sarah decided. “Tonight. We'll make a special meal, and we'll put up shaded candles throughout the whole room, and we'll turn away outsiders so it is just us celebrating with our friends. Gryffin, can you make decorations? Raymond, will you help hang them? Someone go out to the garden to pick flowers.”

With a goal to work toward, we all became a little more focused, and the arrival of the noon stage clarified our minds even more. Juliet and Raymond sat at her table for nearly two hours, discussing the ramifications of her inheritance and what her next steps should be. I watched covertly as the hours passed, smiling to see Juliet's happiness, Raymond's decisiveness. They looked like different people from the ones I had first met. As if, like me, they had long had true identities hidden from the world, covered with careful masks. As if joy had allowed them to cast off those worn disguises.

The noon stage departed, and the day finally assumed its normal rhythms. Emily and I worked together to clean up the detritus left behind by the last wave of customers. We could now expect a few random visitors from this point until sundown, after which most traffic would be local.

“It almost makes you believe there is some good still in the world,” Emily said to me wistfully as we loaded up trays of dirty dishes.

“I believe it,” I said, “but I can't always prove it.”

The door opened, and a family of four crowded in. Through the front window I could see a fashionable carriage pulling up in the yard and the driver calling out for a change of horses.

“Back to work,” I said with a sigh.

Emily handled the family while I served the solitary gentleman. He was handsome but morose, and hunched over his tea and biscuits as if nothing, not even food, could improve his outlook. “Can I get you anything else?” I asked him after it seemed he was done, though he had left half his cup untasted.

He looked up at me as if startled to learn another human being was in the world. “No. Thank you. No. I'll be going as soon as my carriage is ready.”

Across the room, I heard one of our younger guests tell a joke and Emily laugh in response. She liked children, and I was always glad to give her the responsibility of waiting on their tables.

“That's very funny,” she said in a cheerful voice. “Did it make your sister laugh?”

The man at my table sprang to his feet as if there were coils under his shoes.
“Emily?”
he breathed. And then, louder, almost crazily, “Emily? Is it you?
Is it really you?
”

For the second time that day, everyone in the room came to a frozen halt. I turned my head just enough to see Emily standing by the other table, a teapot suspended in mid-pour. Her face was as white as Juliet's had been; she looked just as likely to faint. “Randal?” she whispered.

And then the young man—Randal, I presumed—dashed across the room, actually leaping over a misplaced chair to go bounding to her side. He took her in his arms so forcefully that she dropped the metal pot and tea went splashing everywhere. “I cannot believe I have found you!” he cried. “Oh, my darling, I have looked everywhere for you! Oh, Emily, Emily, why did you run away?”

Whatever Emily might have wanted to reply to this was lost under his mouth as he kissed her with commendable fervor. Gryffin, Sarah, Betsy, Juliet, Raymond, and I exchanged glances of astonishment and glee, all of us slowly creeping forward from various stations around the room to get an even better look at this most emotional reunion. It was now fairly obvious what had been the cause of Emily's recent dismissal. She had fallen in love with the son of some noble family, and he had most definitely lost his heart to her.

Suddenly, with a sob of despair, Emily wrenched herself free and pushed Randal away from her. “I cannot!” she cried. “Don't you see—nothing has changed! Your mother sent me away, and she was right to do so. I cannot be with you, and I cannot endure to see you again! Go away, go away now, and never seek me out again.”

Now the glances the rest of us exchanged were full of distress and dismay. But Randal, it proved, was not a man to be easily set aside. He came a step closer and caught her shoulders in his hands.

“Oh, no, I'm not leaving you ever again,” he said. “Now that I've found you, I shall not let you go.”

She was weeping. “I have told you once, I will not be your lover.”

“I never wanted you as a lover. I want you as my wife.”

Everyone in the room gasped. Clearly, this was a scene that should have been played out in private, but not one of us made a move for the door. In fact, I pulled up a chair, and Gryffin rolled up right beside me. Really, this was better than a Summermoon theatrical.

Emily cried even harder. “I can't marry you! Your family—”

“My family can rot in Wodenderry,” Randal said cheerfully. “You and I shall live here—wherever here is—” He glanced around as if looking for a sign boasting the town's name. “Thrush Hollow” came from half a dozen helpful voices. “Here in Thrush Hollow,” he concluded.

She almost laughed and tried ineffectually to pull away. “Oh, certainly. I shall continue to work as a serving maid, and you shall—you shall what? Open shop as a tailor? You cannot give up your inheritance, your
life
, for me.”

“I have a small inheritance that will come to me no matter what I do with my life,” Randal said. “And I am not above taking honest work. What is this place? A posting house? Perhaps they would hire me here.” He looked around again. “Who's the owner, hey? Would you take me on? I'm good with horses.”

Sarah stepped forward. She managed to keep her face grave, but her eyes were dancing. “I'm the owner's daughter,” she said. “We're always looking for drivers.”

Emily looked at her hopelessly. “He's not serious.”

“I think he is,” Sarah replied.

“I most definitely am,” Randal said. “So who performs marriages in this town? Can someone go fetch him? I want to marry this woman. Right now. This minute.”

Well, naturally that started an uproar such as none of us had heard since, oh, mid-morning when Raymond had arrived with Juliet's news. It was enough to make a person giddy, but it was a delightful dizziness, of anticipation bubbling just under the skin. Emily cried out that Randal couldn't mean it, and he countered that he absolutely did. Betsy sent one of her sons to fetch the town clerk, who performed weddings and recorded deeds, and the rest of us began conferring.

“Juliet, do you mind if Emily shares your party?” Sarah asked, and Juliet laughed out loud.

“I would be honored if she did,” Juliet replied.

And so we made quick plans to decorate the dining hall with irises and summer roses, and to throw white cloths over all the tables, and borrow as many candelabra as we could scare up from friends and neighbors in the next two hours. Betsy was already in the kitchen, throwing together a wedding feast, and I ran upstairs to make sure the largest of the bedrooms was transformed into a bridal bower. Gryffin hand-lettered a sign that said
PRIVATE EVENT
—
NO DINNER SERVED TONIGHT
, and this was hung out front. Josh Parmer and his sons washed off the horse smell and changed into good shirts, then the youngest boy and Sarah's Bo tuned up their flute and fiddle.