Changeling (Sorcery and Society Book 1)(79)

“Well, I don’t plan to annoy you, but I certainly understand why you would give your cousin such a warning.”

My head whipped toward the sound of the voice that was certainly not Owen’s. Gavin McCray was standing in the doorway, holding a bouquet of purple weeping hyacinth – a flower that meant the giver was so sorry, he or she was crying. Through the glass, I could see Mrs. Winter’s retreating back. “Gavin. What are you doing here? I thought.. well, never mind what I thought. I’m very happy to see you.”

“I’m sorry my mother’s actions gave you the impression that I didn’t want to continue our acquaintance,” he said. “She’s been more dependent on me since my father died and, I don’t think she appreciated the thought of someone who would take my time or attention.”

I raised my eyebrows and his cheeks flushed. I might not have believed the excuse about his mother diverting his messages, except that his letters, which I read during my recovery, had been a series of increasingly urgent pleas for me to respond. The final letter had asked me to send some word, even through Alicia, to tell him that he could hope for my friendship.

“I’ve moved to the residence halls at Palmer’s for the time being,” he said, clearing his throat.

“I hate to think that you’ve moved from your home because of something to do with me.”

“It’s not because of you,” he assured me, standing and crossing the greenhouse to stand near me. “If I don’t make a dramatic gesture now, I can only expect more of the same. And I’m on the verge of taking over the family business. She can’t treat me like a child and then expect to have the responsibilities of a patriarch. She can learn to respect my choices or she can live separately from me.”

“I feel like I could have cleared this up by reaching out to you, but I was concerned that the things people were saying about me might mean you didn’t want to contact me again.”

“I’ve learned a long time ago not to listen to the gossip that circulates through the society set,” he said softly. “You’re one of Alicia’s closest friends. If she had any concerns about you, she would have told me. You’re a sweet girl, but funny and biting and smart. If any of the society matrons have a problem with that, it says more about them than you.”

“Thank you,” I said, my own cheeks heating now. “I think you are very nice… also…”

It was all I could do not to roll my eyes. Clearly, this was the biting wit Gavin mentioned.

Smiling, Gavin leaned forward and kissed me softly on my lips, a quick experimental peck.

“I will write to you again, as soon as possible, if that’s agreeable,” he said, his lips twitching.

“I look forward to your next letter,” I told him. “It should be very long, to make up for the recent lack of them.”

He took my hand and bowed over it. “I will do my best.”

With that, Gavin left me in the greenhouse, walking into Raven’s Rest to pay his respects to Mr. Winter. Alone now and suffering a sudden case of sweaty palms, I carefully approached the juvenile specimen of drosera aureus Headmistress Lockwood sent me.

I took a dropper from the vial of chicken blood Mrs. Winter had delivered from the kitchen. Better to use the run-off from my mother’s dinner preparations than to sacrifice some poor bird. The closed golden bud stretched upwards at the scent of the opened bottle. The beautiful shimmering gold made way for the scaly brown reality as the bud opened up.

“I am not feeding you my blood,” I told the little vampiric blossom. “With my luck, you would grow ten feet tall and start eating people whole.”



Later in the day, my parents had been allowed a whopping hour-long visit, in the spirit of the holiday season. I’d like to think that some part of Mrs. Winter felt guilty that Mary had run away, leaving my parents with no child to comfort them. But honestly, it probably had more to do with the fact that my father’s work was suffering and mother’s cooking had become subpar.

My poor parents. Papa looked like he’d aged ten years. And the unhappy lines around Mum’s mouth had furrowed even deeper. Hearing that I’d almost died at the fancy school that was supposed to be my redemption hadn’t exactly comforted them.

“I just don’t understand how any of this happened,” Mum said, turning a cooling cup of peppermint tea in her hands, as we sat around the kitchen worktable.

“Have you heard from Mary?” I asked. “Do you know where she is?”

Papa shook his head. “Not since the night of the party.”

I waited for the familiar, sinking weight of guilt, for not protecting Mary from herself. But it didn’t come. Mary had made the choices that led her here. And for once, I was going to let her feel the consequences.

Mum sniffed. “How did we lose so much so quickly?”

“You haven’t lost me, Mum,” I told her. “Things are just different now. They were bound to change someday, right? I was always going to grow up, pull away a little bit. It just happened a little bit earlier than we thought.”

“I don’t know what we were thinking, trying to hide what you could do,” Papa said. “It wasn’t right, like trying to pretend away a part of you.”

“I just wish I knew why I was born like this,” I said. “Miss Morton said that there are other children like me. Changelings who can do magic. More being born every year.”