Changeling (Sorcery and Society Book 1)(43)

“You’d think she was using magic, but of course, she couldn’t.” Callista laughed long and loud, as if it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard. Alicia offered her polite smile, but Ivy stared at her tormentor as if Callista had finally lost her mind. “Isn’t that right, Cassandra?”

Callista gave me a pointed look, as if I was supposed to use this opportunity to praise her management of her servant. But all I could do was stare at her. She always seemed so controlled and confident in classes. But I’d seen the same sort of mania in Mary’s eyes, when she looked at Owen. Callista would humiliate Alicia, put her in the way of greater harm, if she thought it would bring her closer to her brother. We were fortunate that there hadn’t been a convenient carriage close by, otherwise Callista might have thrown Alicia under it.

“Doesn’t my Sarah have the most wonderful talent for stubborn stains?” she asked again, her too-wide smile still pasted on as she nodded her head ever so subtly toward Alicia.

I didn’t want to play this game anymore. I didn’t want to be Callista’s lackey, and I didn’t want there to be any doubt where I stood.

What would Mrs. Winter do in this situation?

I cleared my throat. “Yes, well, if you’ll excuse us, Callista, we were just about to go thank Mrs. Dalrymple for throwing such a lovely social. Good luck with your… stains.”

Callista’s beautiful face flushed purple in anger, but there were far too many adults present for her to lash out or make a scene. She would get even for my show of “defiance,” I was sure of it. But instead of the dread I expected, I felt oddly liberated, so much so that I burst out laughing – which only served to make Callista angrier

I linked arms with Alicia and Ivy and let them lead me toward Mrs. Dalrymple’s settee. It felt right to be with these two and not just because I expected we would be safe from any more tart-related “accidents.” Despite Alicia’s apparent invisibility and Ivy’s stigma, I wasn’t ashamed to walk with them; not like moving as part of Callista’s flock. No one avoided eye contact with me. They didn’t clear a path. For once, I felt “a part” of the group instead of “apart.”

We hovered at the edge of the dancefloor, where Ivy made her little observations about the dancers – who was related to whom and whose families were feuding. Alicia was quiet, studying the pairings and movements as if she could see patterns that we couldn’t. It was no wonder that we rarely saw her around the school building. She was so still and quiet that she was practically statuary.

“What are you looking at?” I asked quietly out of the corner of my mouth.

“My brother,” she said, blithely.

I followed Alicia’s line of sight to a dark-haired teenager who stood a head taller than most of the grown men present. He turned to face us and I gasped.

The boy from the sidewalk, all those weeks ago, the one I’d run into. He was Alicia McCray’s brother. I didn’t know whether to smile or run. He was just as handsome as I remembered, even if his face was tensed by the effort of moving through the crowd, avoiding Callista and her cronies. Rosemarie tried to approach him on the right, he turned to start a conversation with someone on his right. Millicent tried to flank on his left, with Callista closing in on his right, he turned his back to both, so he could be introduced to a classmate’s younger sister. All the while, he moved closer and closer to the door.

“Poor Gavin,” Alicia sighed. “He does hate these socials. He’d much rather be locked away in his library. He only came today to check on me. Mother makes him.”

“I don’t know why he hates them,” I countered, smiling hesitantly. “That was some of the most graceful dancing I’ve ever seen. Very fancy footwork.”

Alicia did something I didn’t expect. She burst out laughing, throwing her little head back and guffawing so long and loud that the dancers nearest us stopped mid-turn to stare. Ivy’s brown eyes went saucer-wide and she opened her prune-and-tan lace fan over her mouth to cover her own unladylike grin.

Across the dancefloor, a dark head snapped in our direction. Gavin’s dark grey eyes narrowed at the unusual sound of his sister cackling like a loon at a fancy society party. I wanted to hide behind the nearest potted plant. Would he recognize me? Had he given me a single thought since that morning? I looked nothing like the half-grown waif who’d bounced off of him. But still, I felt like he could see through mask Mrs. Winter had painted on me, to the drab, weak girl I’d been.

But then, I saw a natural smile bloom over his face, like the clouds of his polite, distant half-smirk parting to make way for real delight. And I couldn’t help but feel that I’d been hit by some nerve-shattering spell. Or possibly a horseless carriage.

“Fancy footwork,” Alicia giggled as Gavin moved closer. “I’ll have to remember to tell him that later. He loathed dancing lessons when he was my age. He actually created a potion that made him appear to have monkey pox, just to avoid them.”

“So, he faked having monkey pox every week?”

“At the time, he wasn’t thinking in the long-term,” she said airily.

“Alicia,” he sighed, ignoring propriety and bending at the waist to hug his tiny sister. She giggled and beat lightly at his arms as he picked her up. “I’m just going to take you home with me. You’ve been at school long enough.”