Wrede, Patricia C - Mairelon 02 (14 page)

           
"Maybe
whoever-it-is doesn't know that there's nothing useful in it," Kim said.

           
"Yes,
but that's no help at all," Mairelon said crossly.

           
Lady
Wendall laughed. "I doubt that our wizard is trying to be helpful. Kim is
probably right, and you will only strain your eyes staring at that book. Come
and have tea."

           
Mairelon
came, but he was not so easily discouraged. For the next several days, while
Kim and Lady Wendall paid social calls and attended teas, he painstakingly
catalogued the contents of the book, identifying as many spell-bits as he could.
Kim's magic lessons suffered somewhat from this obsession. She missed them
sorely, and not only because she was back to studying dry and difficult books
instead of discussing theory with Mairelon. She missed the daily quiet hour in
the library with him, away from the toffs who crowded the saloons and parlors
of upper-crust
London
.

           
For
despite Lady Wendall's best efforts, and all her assurances that things would
improve, Kim was not really enjoying the preliminaries of a
London
social Season. She would have much preferred tackling burglars in the hallway
or chasing down mysterious wizards, but there were no more attempts made to
steal the odd little book and no spells tested the strength of the protective
ward that Mairelon and Lady Wendall had put in place around the house. Kim was
left with shopping, morning calls, and the other activities that occupied
ladies of Quality. Lady Wendall's acquaintances were much more interesting than
Mrs. Lowe's, but Kim was simply not comfortable among them. Consequently, Kim
was not much pleased when Lady Wendall announced that the two of them were
going for a drive in the park.

           
"It
will do you good to get a little air, and I can begin to introduce you to the
ton
,"
Lady Wendall said. "In the future, you may ride, if you wish--that is,
do
you ride?"

           
"No,"
Kim said with somewhat more force than she intended.

           
"Then
you won't need a riding habit," Lady Wendall said with unimpaired calm.
"What a good thing I hadn't ordered you one yet. Now, go and put on your
cream
muslin,
and we will go to the park. And take
care not to disarrange your hair!"

           
Kim did
as she was bidden. It was amazing, she reflected as she donned the walking
dress, how much less annoying Lady Wendall's acerbic comments and peremptory
commands were than Mrs. Lowe's had been. But then, Lady Wendall at least
listened
to Kim's objections, and if she overruled her, she usually gave a reason. And
Lady Wendall didn't seem at all inclined to make bloodless propriety the center
of her life; quite the contrary. She knew exactly how near the line of
acceptable behavior to tread, and how far over it she went in privacy was an
entirely different matter.
But she's a toff born, and I'm not.
Frowning,
Kim shoved the thought away, picked up her reticule, and left the room.

           
Hyde
Park
was not as crowded as it would be in another week or two, but
it was certainly busy. Traffic crawled along as carriages paused to let their
passengers
converse with ladies and gentlemen on horseback
or with the occupants of other carriages. No one seemed to mind; the object of
coming to the park, after all, was to see and be seen.

           
Lady
Wendall's landau was one of those most responsible for holding up traffic. She
seemed, Kim thought, to be on speaking terms with every one of the gentlefolk in
the park, from Lady Jersey on down. After being presented to upward of a dozen
persons in fifteen minutes, Kim stopped trying to remember the names and simply
smiled and nodded in acknowledgment of each new introduction.

           
The brief
conversations that followed the introductions all consisted of talk of people
Kim did not know and places she had not been. Lady Wendall seemed to be
enjoying herself enormously, but Kim was beginning to wonder how much longer
the ordeal would last when she saw Renee D'Auber in a carriage ahead of them.

           
"There's
Mademoiselle D'Auber," she said as Lady Wendall finished her conversation
with the latest set of acquaintances and leaned forward to instruct the
coachman.

           
"Where?"
Lady Wendall asked. "I don't see
her."

           
Kim
pointed.

           
"Ah yes; how interesting.
She's with the Countess
Lieven. In the future, do not point in public. Or at least, try not to do it
often.
Jackson
! Pull around by the
Countess Lieven's carriage. I wish to speak to her before we return home."

           
"Is
the Countess Lieven
a
fr--a magician?" Kim asked
as the coachman maneuvered the landau through the snarl of traffic.

           
"Not
at all; I never met anyone with less of a sense for magic," Lady Wendall
replied. "But she is one of the Patronesses of Almack's, which makes her a
power in Society. Now, what was that you almost called her?
Fr--something," she added helpfully when Kim gave her a puzzled look.

           
Kim's
face grew hot.
"Frogmaker.
It's cant."

           
"I
rather thought it might be," Lady Wendall said, nodding. "You must
tell me more some evening when we are at home and private."

           
Kim had
no idea how to respond to such a request, but fortunately, she did not have to.
The landau drew up beside Countess Lieven's barouche, and yet another round of
introductions began. Kim suffered an interesting mixture of feelings when she
discovered that the third person in the barouche, who had not been visible when
she spotted Renee, was Prince Alexei Durmontov.

           
"I
am enchanted to greet you again, Miss Merrill," he said.

           
"Thank
you," Kim replied, considerably taken aback.

           
"I
see you are determined to make your ball the highlight of the Season," the
Countess Lieven said to Lady Wendall. "Five hundred cards sent out, from
what I hear."

           
Lady
Wendall smiled. "It is the first party I have given in a considerable
time, and since it is in honor of my son's ward, I wish it to be especially
memorable."

           
"It
is of all things the most likely," Renee D'Auber said.

           
"No
doubt," the countess said dryly. "Lady Wendall has always had a
reputation for . . . originality, even before the curried snails in aspic. I
trust such inventive dishes will not be prominent at
this
party?"

           
"I
try not to repeat myself," Lady Wendall said with a charming smile.
"May we hope to see you and your guest?"

           
"I
believe you may count upon Lord Lieven and
myself
,"
the countess said. "Prince Durmontov will do as he sees fit, though I
believe he would enjoy it. Magicians always seem to enjoy talking to one
another."

           
"Ah!
You are a magician, Lady Wendall?" said the prince.

           
"A
mere dabbler," Lady Wendall answered. "My son is the true
practitioner in the family, though I understand that Kim is coming along
nicely."

           
"Then
I look forward to speaking with him of your English enchantments," the
prince said. "I, too . . . what did you say
? '
Dabble.'
I dabble in magic."

           
"But
you are too modest," Renee said. "Have you not just told me that your
family is of the finest wizards in
Russia
?"

           
"
Some of my family are
, indeed," Durmontov replied.
"But I am not yet among them. One reason I journey here is to enlarge my
skills."

           
Kim's
stomach clenched.
He can't be the burglar
, she told herself.
He
doesn't wear a ring, and he was behind me at the opera when Mairelon went after
that other cove.
But the wizard and the burglar weren't necessarily the
same person, and if the wizard had to be either self-trained or foreign. . . .

           
"Then
you must come to Kim's ball," Lady Wendall said without hesitation.
"Some of the greatest wizards from the Royal College of Magic will be
there, and I shall be sure to ask my son to introduce you."

           
"I
am in your debt, Madame," the prince replied.

           
After
exchanging a few more pleasantries, Lady Wendall extracted herself and Kim with
effortless politeness and gave the coachman orders to return to
Grosvenor
Square
. She was silent and thoughtful through much
of the drive home, putting Kim forcibly in mind of Mairelon in one of his brown
studies. Had it been Mairelon sitting beside her, she might have attempted a
comment or two, in hopes of finding out what he was thinking, but she did not
know Lady Wendall well enough to risk interrupting her thoughts, and so she,
too, was silent.

           
The rest
of the week went by without incident. No spells tested the house-ward that
Mairelon and Lady Wendall had set up, nor were there more burglars. Shoreham
sent no news regarding the French wizards, and none of Mairelon's spells
elicited any trace of Ma Yanger. Hunch made several forays into the lower-class
portions of
London
, but the only
information he could obtain was that Ma Yanger was missing. The general
presumption was that she had left for parts unknown.

           
Kim
dutifully accompanied Lady Wendall on rounds of calls and attended several
small dinner parties, about which she had very mixed feelings. Lady Wendall's
friends had, thus far, been very kind, but Kim could not help feeling rather
like the central attraction in a bear-garden. She could only be thankful that
Lady Wendall had decreed a quiet schedule until after the come-out ball, which
she was already looking forward to with considerable apprehension, and she was
a bit dismayed that Lady Greythorne's musicale was considered quiet enough to
meet Lady Wendall's exacting standards. Her attempts to explain her real
worries fell on deaf ears, so she fell back on something the toffs in the household
would understand.

           
"What
if that wizard tries something while we're gone?" she asked at dinner the
day before the event.

           
Mrs. Lowe
looked alarmed, but Lady Wendall only smiled. "The warding spell can
handle anything he is likely to cast, and a great deal that he isn't," she
told Kim. "Richard and I renewed it just this morning."

           
"I
meant like that scrying spell at the opera," Kim said. "Not something
here."

           
"I
thought of that," Mairelon said with a touch of smugness. "I hope he
does; I've been working on something that will give him a surprise. And with
any luck, it will let us know the identity of our mystery wizard."

           
"I
would prefer to receive assurances that there will be no disturbance at
all," Mrs. Lowe said. "Here
or
there."

           
"What,
exactly, are you planning, Richard?" Lady Wendall said. "Lady
Greythorne is an understanding hostess, but for a wizard to cast spells in the
home of a nonwizard without being requested . . . well, no matter what the
provocation, it is not
done
."

           
"I
won't be casting anything," Mairelon assured her. "I'm using the same
technique as our burglar--infusing an object with a spell to be invoked later.
The only one who will notice will be the other spellcaster."

           
"I
sincerely hope you are right," his mother said. "Your reputation
cannot stand another scandal. And don't tell me that your name has been
cleared. Another
muddle,
and no one will believe
it." She paused, considering.
"Unless, of course,
it's a more
usual
sort of scandal.
I would rather you didn't lose
your fortune at cards, but if you could contrive to fall in love with someone's
wife, that might answer."

           
"Really,
Elizabeth
!"
Mrs. Lowe said in scandalized tones. "It would
be much more to the point to advise him to behave with propriety."

           
"There
is no point to giving him that sort of advice," Lady Wendall said.
"Richard would never follow it. But an
affaire
is another matter,
and might answer very well to reestablish him in Society, as long as he doesn't
take things too far."

           
"I
assume you would consider dueling over the hypothetical lady to be 'too far,'
" Mairelon said, amused.

           
"Much
too far," Lady Wendall replied seriously. "That is precisely the sort
of extreme you need to avoid."

           
"I
think I can promise you that."

           
"It
is not a joking matter, Richard! You could find yourself a social outcast
permanently, not to mention ruining Kim's prospects and damaging the rest of
the family." Lady Wendall paused,
then
laid a
hand on Mairelon's arm. "I am only asking you to take care, my dear. You
can't deny that sometimes you forget to do so, especially when you are absorbed
in one of your projects."

           
"I
most certainly can deny it," Mairelon said. "Of course, if I did, I'd
be lying. Very well, Mother, I'll keep your recommendations in mind."

           
But Kim
noticed that Mairelon had not agreed to actually abide by any of them. She was
almost relieved. The thought of Mairelon setting up a flirtation was . . .
awkward.
Uncomfortable.
Unpleasant.
She picked up her fork, and applied herself to food that had gone suddenly
tasteless.

           
Lady
Greythorne's townhouse was a palatial residence filled with footmen, silver,
marble tables, and delicate, uncomfortable chairs. A cracksman could have made
his fortune in ten minutes in the Green Saloon--except that, Kim judged, this
was one of those houses where the guests did not depart until three or four in
the morning, at which point the kitchen staff and housemaids would already be
stirring in preparation for the following day. The rooms were even more crowded
than Kim had anticipated, and much to her dismay, Letitia Tarnower was the
first person to greet them as they entered the drawing room after paying their
respects to their hostess.

           
"Mr.
Merrill!" the Beauty said to Mairelon. "I am so very pleased to see
you again. And you also, Mrs. Lowe."

           
Mrs. Lowe
nodded stiffly, then immediately excused herself to go and speak with someone
who had just entered on the far side of the room. Miss Tarnower looked up at
Mairelon expectantly.

           
"Miss
Tarnower," Mairelon said gravely, and then, with an exquisite correctness
that made Kim instantly suspicious of his motives, presented her to his mother.

           
"I
am so very pleased to meet you, Lady Wendall," Miss Tarnower said,
curtseying. She gave Kim a small nod; evidently she was not going to ignore Kim
completely until she was sure of her status.

           
Lady
Wendall murmured something politely noncommittal.

           
"I
am so happy to be here tonight," Miss Tarnower went on in a confidential
tone. "I was quite honored to receive a card, for you know that Lady
Greythorne is so very
choosy
in her guests."

           
"I
was certainly used to think so," Lady Wendall said blandly.

           
Annoyance
flashed in Miss Tarnower's eyes; she gave Mairelon the briefest of calculating
glances and then said sweetly, "Oh, but everyone knows that Lady Greythorne's
parties are very nearly as exclusive as Almack's! Surely you are funning
me!"

           
"Not
exactly," Mairelon said. "It will do for an interpretation,
however."

           
Miss
Tarnower smiled and widened her eyes at him. "I am excessively bad at
interpretations," she said. "Particularly of music, though I do love
it so. And I particularly wish to understand the pieces tonight. Perhaps you
would be good enough to explain them to me, Mr. Merrill?"

           
"Do
forgive us, Miss Tarnower," Lady Wendall broke in firmly, "but we
really must pay our respects to Lady Castlereagh. It won't do, you know, to
interrupt her once the music has begun."

           
"Then
I hope I will have a chance to talk with you later, Mr. Merrill," Miss
Tarnower said, yielding gracefully. As she moved off, several young men closed
in around her. Prominent among them was Lord Gideon Starnes, and Kim wondered
briefly whether he had ever persuaded anyone to carry his message to Letitia
for him.

           
"That
was rather unnecessary, Mother," Mairelon said as they made their way
through the crowd toward Lady Castlereagh. "Now it will take twice as long
to find out what it was she really wanted."

           
Lady
Wendall gave him a pitying look. "What she wants is obvious, dear."

           
"Mmm?
Possibly, but nobody is that obvious by accident.
Or that hen-witted."

           
"I
didn't say it was accidental." Lady Wendall pursed her lips. "I think
it is a good thing that Andrew is in
Suffolk
this Season. I must write and tell Lord Wendall to be sure and keep him there
on some pretext, should they finish their business with the canals a bit
early."

           
Kim felt
suddenly queasy. Despite Mrs. Lowe's preoccupation with matchmaking, it hadn't
occurred to her that Mairelon was an extremely eligible bachelor.
He's a
wizard, he's well-born, he's got forty thousand in the Funds, and he's
under
thirty
. She stole a glance at him.
And he's not
bad-looking, either
. That wouldn't weigh with the Mamas of the innocent
hopefuls who flocked to
London
during the Season in hopes of catching a husband, but it would certainly weigh
with the hopefuls themselves.
He's a younger son, and he hasn't got a title
,
she reassured herself, but that wasn't much help. Forty thousand pounds was
more than enough to offset such trifling disadvantages.

           
At
least he wasn't taken in by that Tarnower chit
. Somehow, the thought was
not entirely reassuring.

           
They paid
their respects to Lady Castlereagh and wandered through the rooms, conversing
with the other guests and admiring the furnishings and the figures painted on
the pediments above the doors. Several rooms were designed with recessed
alcoves in the corners, most of which were lined with narrow tables on which
the hostess had chosen to display a variety of enormous, ornate silver urns,
marble statuettes, and other valuable items. Kim was particularly taken with a
pair of candle sticks that looked to be solid gold--they were small enough to
be easily portable, and they'd fetch at least fifty pounds apiece at Gentleman
Jerry's.

           
As they
proceeded, Kim made a point of observing the gentlemen's hands. Though she saw
a great many rings of varying value, none was the ruby-centered flower she was
looking for. Twice, she saw Renee D'Auber passing into another room. Prince
Durmontov was also present; when Kim spotted him, he was listening with
apparent attention to Letitia Tarnower while Lord Starnes stood by in barely
concealed irritation. Kim found herself hoping that the Beauty was hanging out
for a title after all.

           
"Kim,"
Lady Wendall said, calling her back from her reverie. "Allow me to present
Lord Franton, Marquis of Harsfeld, who particularly desires to meet you."

           
Kim
turned. A slim young man with dark hair bowed immediately; as he straightened,
she recognized him as the gentleman she had seen observing her at the opera,
before the scrying spell and Prince Durmontov's appearance had driven
everything else from her mind. "I am pleased to meet you, Lord
Franton," she said.

           
Lord
Franton smiled. He had a very nice smile, and his expression was openly
admiring. He looked to be no more than twenty-two or twenty-three, but he had
an air of self-confidence that made him seem older. "Not nearly so pleased
as I am to meet you at last, Miss Merrill," he said to Kim. "I have
been trying to arrange an introduction for a week, but you have been remarkably
elusive."

           
"I
have?"

           
"So
it seems to me. Now that I have managed it at last, will you allow me to
procure you a seat for the music? I believe they are about to begin."

           
Feeling a
little dazed, Kim looked at Lady Wendall, who nodded encouragingly. Like a
puppet, Kim's head bobbed as well, and a moment later she found herself being
escorted to the music room by the marquis. His arm was firm under her gloved
hand. Her breath had gone odd, and she was abruptly conscious of the depth of
her gown's neckline.
Nobody ever really looked at me like I was a girl
before
, she thought suddenly.
No man, anyway
. She stole a glance
upward and encountered another warm smile that almost made her stumble. She
felt tingly all over, rather as if someone were doing magic nearby, only different.
I could get to like this
.