Spellbreaker (Spellbreaker Duology, #1)(30)

She plastered on a smile. “I did get a bit turned around, thank you.”

The footman nodded and gestured toward the monstrous house. Elsie’s legs felt so stiff she almost wondered if she’d gotten stuck in one of Mr. Kelsey’s spells again. But she managed to follow the man clear to the entrance, where a second footman held open the door.

It struck her again that the servants certainly looked healthy enough. That was good. To think Elsie might have become a maid herself had she stayed in the workhouse. Not at an establishment like this, of course. Somewhere more cramped, danker. Aristocrats didn’t hire from workhouses.

The footman wound Elsie through a few halls, past more servants, and up a set of stairs to a spacious drawing room. The gilded paintings seemed to dance in the candlelight, the furniture was fine and brightly colored, and the biggest bouquet she’d ever seen sat in a porcelain vase on a low table.

She tried to act as though the casual display of wealth didn’t affect her.

She didn’t know the four women in the room, all dressed in finery save one, whose dress seemed about on par with her own. The oldest, a willowy woman who wore her years well, acknowledged her first. Her neck glittered with sapphires.

Elsie felt sorely out of place. Her eyes jumped between chairs and sofas, trying to find somewhere she could sit quietly and unobtrusively until the food was served—

“You must be Elsie Camden!” The willowy woman approached her, arms outstretched, a brilliant smile lighting her face. “Dear, forgive the nature of our introduction. Men can be so nonplussed.” She took Elsie’s hands like they were long-lost friends.

Elsie’s jaw dropped. This was a noblewoman, was it not? But she was so . . . nice.

The woman took advantage of Elsie’s bafflement and subtly looked her over. Elsie flushed, sure the woman was measuring up her attire, but to her surprise, she said, “And you’re on the taller side. That’s good.”

Elsie’s jaw snapped back into place. Why is taller good? But the answer came to her before she could speak, nearly choking her. The stranger was referring to her height relative to that of Mr. Kelsey.

The woman swept right over her voiceless stutter. “My name is Abigail Scott. The duke is my husband.”

Elsie was holding hands with a duchess.

“This”—the duchess released her and gestured to two women, both younger than Elsie, the first about sixteen—“is my daughter Ida and my daughter Josie.” Josie looked barely Ida’s junior. “And this is Master Lily Merton, whom I also invited to dine with us tonight.”

Master Merton, who looked to be a little older than Ogden, scuttled up to her. She was titled in the way of spellmaking, but she didn’t look like the standard well-to-do lady. She was short and plump, with a round face that looked like it perpetually smiled. Her hair was curled and a little old fashioned, her dress violet, modest, and simple, which made Elsie feel less out of place. “My dear, it is excellent to meet you. I hope you don’t mind the intrusion. The duchess’s family is a dear one, and Miss Ida is showing so much promise in aspecting!”

Elsie blinked and turned toward the older daughter. “You’re an apprentice?”

But Ida shook her head. “Not yet. Perhaps. But I do show promise.”

Master Merton nodded vigorously. “I just have to convince her to join the spiritual alignment!”

Ida smiled shyly. Though Elsie didn’t know the girl, she hoped she’d take the opportunity to study aspecting. There were so few women in the field, especially in Europe. Only the privileged who showed natural talent could try their hand at it, along with a sprinkling of the sponsored poor, who were often discovered only when spellmaking professors held recruiting events and didn’t charge a family their firstborn child to participate. That left many potential aspectors turned away. Back to the cabbage fields.

Had Elsie been anything but a spellbreaker, she’d never have amounted to anything. The Cowls certainly would never have found use for her.

“I’m sure you will succeed,” she tried, and Master Merton’s eyes gleamed with pleasure. “I think it a very good profession for a young lady.”

“Quite possibly,” the duchess echoed. She perked at footsteps in the hall. “Here we are. My dear Miss Camden, Mr. Kelsey will escort you. And Master Merton, I would be honored to have you on my left.”

“What a pleasure, my lady,” Master Merton enthused, clapping her hands. Her good cheer was such that Elsie couldn’t help but smile, too. “Oh, we have so much to talk about!”

The door on the near side of the room opened, revealing Mr. Kelsey. He held it for the duke, who noticed Elsie and grinned before shifting his attention to Master Merton and offering her a thorough welcome.

Mr. Kelsey approached Elsie as soon as he walked in. He looked a little irritated, but the lines in his tanned forehead smoothed themselves as he approached her. Goodness, it was easy to forget how large he was when not comparing him to normal-sized people. His eyes dropped to her skirt and back up, lingering, and Elsie couldn’t tell whether he approved or disapproved.

Not that it mattered. Indeed, it most certainly did not. Elsie had merely straightened her posture because her corset was pinching.

A duke, a duchess, their daughters, and a master aspector. Mr. Kelsey was the only thing bridging the gaping class barrier between Elsie and the rest, and even that bridge felt insurmountable.