Changeling (Sorcery and Society Book 1)(56)

He stammered, looking up at me with panicked eyes. “Oh, honey, I didn’t mean it that way.”

I nodded, my brows drawing close together. “I know.”

I saw him patting at his pocket, where his flask would usually be. Where was it? Had Mum taken it? I gave a pained smile. “It’s all right. I’m not normal. It doesn’t hurt my feelings.”

He glanced down at the dragonfly mark, glinting in the sun. “Are they treating you nice? Your Mum said you had some sort of tea party? Did you have a good time?”

“Oh, sure. I was a smashing success. Made a big impression. I think I made some friends.”

“Well, that’s nice. Just look at you. I’ve never seen you looking so healthy or so fine. Living with the Winters is good for you.”

“It has its good points,” I conceded. “But I’ve missed you so much. You and Mum and Mary. I feel so alone, and I never know if I’m doing the right thing. In fact, I’m sure I’m doing the wrong thing most of the time. I just, I miss you so much.”

“I told you, you were meant for greater things than serving, Sarah,” Papa said. “I just keep wondering, what if we’d let you go sooner? What if we’d given you over to the Winters when you were born? We discussed it, you know. Maybe it would have been better for you. You would have grown up as a little lady, without those poisons in your system. It would have been right.”

“What are you talking about? Why would you even think about that?” I demanded as my father clutched my cheeks between his weathered palms. “Please, just explain this to me.”

“Cassandra, Mother is asking for you.” I turned to find Owen standing behind us, frowning. There was no disapproval in his expression, only conflict. He didn’t want to interrupt this moment with my father. However, from the way he kept glancing over his shoulder, toward the house, it was clear that he didn’t want to disappoint his parents, either. “Smith, I believe Mother mentioned giving you the rest of the afternoon off. She said you haven’t been feeling well.”

“What is he talking about?” I asked.

“It’s nothing,” Papa assured me. “Just a little tired is all, from getting the grounds ready for winter.”

“Owen, could you please give us a moment?”

“Mr. Owen,” my father reminded me in a tone that was more habit than anything else.

“It’s all right, Smith. She’s allowed,” Owen said blithely. Suddenly, my father’s posture straightened. He jumped to his feet and stepped away from me. The distance between the two of us grew to an impassable gulf. Owen’s words had served as yet another reminder that I was separate from my father, from my family.

“I don’t want you to worry about us,” my father told me. “I want you to make the most of this. You’ve always been meant for more than I could give you.”

“Papa, no.”

“I’m not saying this because I want you gone. I love you more than anything in the world, which is why I’m telling you to do whatever you can to make Mrs. Winter happy. You go to that school, and you learn as much as you can. You make a life for yourself out in the Guardian world. You forget you ever came from the Warren.” He tapped a finger over my heart. “They’re never going to change what’s in here.”

Papa nodded to me, a little bow that seemed unnatural and wrong. “Be a good girl. Make us proud. I’ll give your mother and sister your love.”

“Papa.” I stood and tried to follow as he strode out of the garden, but Owen caught me around the arms and dragged me back.

“Don’t. It was hard enough for him to walk away from you. Let the man do it with a little dignity.”

I wilted, closing in on myself until Owen gently dropped my weight onto the bench. He sat beside me, keeping his arm around my shoulders. “Are you all right?” he asked.

I shook my head. “I know I call you ‘horrible’ on a regular basis, but sometimes, you can accidentally be a very good friend.”

“Nonsense, I just didn’t want you swooning and smacking your head on the bench.” He cleared his throat and moved toward the house, but seemed to stop himself. “Well, I heard that you are making great strides as Mother’s show pony. She said you were ‘an unqualified success’ at the social. You even managed to get Gavin ‘This Milquetoast is Too Spicy’ McCray to take notice. Congratulations.”

He held out an envelope addressed to me in the messy loops I recognized from the card with Gavin’s “flowers.” Grinning, I reached out to snatch it from him, but a smirking Owen held it out of my reach. “Secret love letters exchanged with a man you are not related to by marriage or blood? Explain yourself, young lady.”

“All I did was show some kindness to his sister and he sent me a ‘thank you’ present. It’s hardly a betrothal. Besides, your mother knows about the correspondence and fully supports it.”

“You made a friend of the Ghost?” he exclaimed. “You really did have a busy afternoon.”

“Don’t call her that.” I scowled as I kicked him lightly in the shin. He yelped and bent slightly. I grabbed the envelope out of his hand. “Alicia’s very kind, and funny. And smart. I would be lucky to have her as a friend.”