Changeling (Sorcery and Society Book 1)(66)

“You seem tense,” he noted.

“Well, I was warned you were planning to interrogate me about breakfast condiments,” I told him.

“Alicia informs me that letter was rude, that a lady likes to keep a little mystery about her. And I should be more subtle in my pursuit of information about you.”

“Someone should tell Alicia it’s rude to read letters I’ve hidden in my reticule,” I told him.

He laughed, a magical sound that send shivers down my arms. “She’s attended school for years and never came home with a story about friends or pranks or anything you would hope your sister would experience. Now, however, it’s Cassandra this, and Ivy that. She has a spark now that I’ve never seen in her, and with her health… Alicia’s happiness is a priority for me.”

I blushed and ducked my head. I couldn’t help it. It just happened

“She’s done more for me than I’ve ever done for her,” I said. “And I would like to thank you for the journal you lent me. It’s been a comfort, knowing what another Translator thought of the book.”

“Anything you ever need, Miss Reed, I would be happy to provide.”

“Calling me ‘Cassandra,’ would be a nice start.”

He grinned at me. On the other end of the ballroom, I could see Callista dancing with a boy from House Drummond. Even through her mask, I could see her scowling at me. Though I wasn’t sure if she was unhappy that Gavin was dancing with someone else or dancing with me, specifically.

“Alicia said you’ve improved her botany grade by leaps and bounds.”

“I’ve found a carefully balanced system of bribery and shaming works best while tutoring her,” I said. I tried to remember Gavin’s interests we’d discussed in his letters, but my mind was blank. All I could remember was “extra moisturizing marmalades,” and I was sure that wasn’t it. Why was this so difficult? I talked to Owen all of the time. I sassed Owen. Why did I feel like my tongue was tied in knots? How did Mary do this? No, wait, that was the wrong instinct. I didn’t like the way Mary talked to boys. A weird silence hung between us as we moved across the floor with the other dancers.

Gavin grinned. “Well, it’s fortunate that you live with the head of the Demeter Society. It should make your Spring Interview a bit easier, when your time comes. Or are you planning to apply to some other research guild?”

I looked up and he was looking at me, as if he was trying to read me. Was this question a test?

“I believe Auntie Aneira would be harder on me than any other candidate,” I muttered.

An expression of relief made Gavin’s face relax and he laughed. “You’re probably right.”

The dance wound to a close and Gavin bowed before me. “Thank you for a delightful dance, Miss Reed. I can see my sister, standing behind you, bouncing on her toes and waving for me to bring you back to her.”

Laughing, I turned to see Alicia’s performance, but Mr. Winter stepped in front of me.

“Cassandra, dear, I am sorry, but Mrs. Winter needs you. Party business, you understand. Mr. McCray, I am afraid you must excuse us.”

“Of course, Miss Reed, I hope to secure another dance, later this evening.” Gavin inclined his head. I remembered to curtsy, but my cheeks had flushed so hot that I had to stare at the polished ballroom floor. “Until then, I’ll have to content myself with letting the pixie stand on my feet while we circle.”

I might have laughed, but the tight tense lines around Mr. Winter’s mouth were making me nervous. I watched Gavin spin his sister out on the floor and then followed Mr. Winter’s sedate but determined pace out of the ballroom to his office.

“Is there a problem, sir?” I asked quietly.

“Not sure yet,” he whispered. “Just stay calm and remember the backstory Mrs. Winter created for you. Don’t cower and don’t panic. Use every ounce of that winsome charm you’ve cultivated. You’ll be fine. We’re all depending on you.”

“That doesn’t help with the panicking, sir,” I said, removing my mask.

Frowning, Mr. Winter led me into his office. Despite the fire crackling in the grate, the room seemed filled with shadows and men I didn’t recognize. At least they’d removed their masks for this little tête-à-tête. They were standing at attention, arms crossed over their chests, not quite scowling as I entered, but they were definitely lacking the pleasant social expressions I was used to seeing.

Mrs. Winter was standing by the fireplace, her hands folded at her waist. Mr. Crenshaw was sitting at the center of the table, glaring at me. His gloved hand stroked over the silver owl’s head topping his cane.

I had a hard time dragging my eyes away from the owl, the symbol of the Grimstelles, as Mr. Crenshaw spoke. “Miss Reed, we represent the Guild committee on antiquities and artifacts. We have assembled here to discuss your progress with the Mother Book.”

Could Mr. Crenshaw be the necromancer that sent Tom after me? He’d been unhappy about the way the Mother Book was being handled. Had he decided to take me out of the equation so another more suitable, non-Winter-related Translator could be found?

The room was quiet.

Because I was supposed to be talking.

I glanced at Mrs. Winter, who was seething though a perfectly poised smile. I cleared my throat and tried to pull on a pleasant expression. “Well, that seems like a lovely party game, what are the rules?”