Spellbreaker (Spellbreaker Duology, #1)(32)

The duke instead chatted about dog breeds, and Master Merton conversed enthusiastically. Elsie was content to merely listen until the third course arrived, and she once again became a topic of interest.

“You mentioned working for an aspector?” the duke asked.

Elsie clamped her hands together under the table. “I . . . yes. A novice, really. He’s an artist—”

“He does very well for himself,” Mr. Kelsey interjected, his voice smooth and confident. “As does Miss Camden.”

She paused at the compliment. But what did Mr. Kelsey know? Either way, it was a delicate attempt to bolster her standing, and for that she was grateful.

“But of course.” The duchess nodded. “Remind me how you two met?”

Mr. Kelsey said, “I would have had to tell you the first time to remind you, Your Grace.”

The duchess swatted her hand in the air. “I’ve told you about formality, Bacchus.”

Josie said, “But we’re dining,” referring to the formal occasion.

The duchess gave her youngest daughter a pointed look, and Josie dropped her attention to her meal.

“Just in the market.” Elsie tried to recall what she’d told Emmeline. “I was . . . having some trouble with a door. Mr. Kelsey graciously aided me.”

His lips quirked at the near truth.

“Oh yes.” Master Merton nodded enthusiastically. “The days are getting hotter and more humid. The wood swells right up! But you know a spell for that, don’t you, Mr. Kelsey?”

Mr. Kelsey set down his fork. “I do, but I’ll not be enchanting another’s door. More often than not, a firm push will do well enough.”

“So pragmatic,” the duchess chimed. She dotted her lips with a napkin. “All that talk of music. Josie, you’ll play for us after dinner, yes?”

“Of course!” she replied.

“I—” Elsie began, but her mind proved stubborn in fathoming an excuse. She could stay up a little later tonight to finish her work for Ogden, couldn’t she? No doubt he’d have a list for her after another long day at the squire’s. He had seemed so harried earlier. Not like himself.

“Miss Camden is not local, and it grows late,” Mr. Kelsey said. Elsie wasn’t sure if she should bless him or be offended that he wanted her gone so quickly. “It’d be best if she departed.” Then, catching himself, he added, “but I would enjoy your music, Miss Josie.”

Josie grinned.

“Oh dear, yes. I’m sure your escort is waiting,” said the duchess.

Elsie forbade her cheeks to blush. They nearly listened. “Yes, she’ll be here any moment.” And she’d be charged a premium if the driver had to wait. With all the cabs she’d been hiring, Elsie would be going to the poorhouse soon.

The rest of the meal went smoothly, with Master Merton talking of the excitement of aspecting and the Spiritual Atheneum in London. When the last plates were taken away, Mr. Kelsey forsook his port to escort Elsie to her imagined chauffeur.

The cab wasn’t there.

“I did ask him to return at eleven.” Elsie stood in the gap in the stone wall, wringing her hands. Her voice might have been a touch defensive.

Mr. Kelsey regarded her in a way that made her warm. “You handled yourself well.”

She straightened. “I’m no scullery maid.” Not anymore. “I know etiquette well enough.” Thanks to Ogden and her novel readers. She softened quickly. “Thank you, for protecting my privacy.”

“It’s not difficult; the duke and duchess know their etiquette as well. I have other plans for tomorrow, but we’ll go to the tenants’ land on Thursday. I have a suspicion of some curses.”

“Curses?” Spiritual spells.

“I could very well be wrong.” He rubbed his half beard. “I’ll get you a carriage.”

“Like I said before, it would be best if I do not arrive home in a duke’s carriage.”

“You must have very determined eavesdroppers at home if it concerns you.” He stifled a yawn. Either he was used to turning in early, or Elsie’s conversation was dull.

Obviously it was the former.

They returned to the house, where Elsie waited in the vestibule while Mr. Kelsey obtained the carriage. Elsie wondered how many the duke owned.

When it came around, Mr. Kelsey escorted Elsie to the door, even offering a hand to help her in. His hands were large but not unwieldly. Warm.

She pulled hers free the moment she had her balance.

“Until Thursday.” He nodded and shut the carriage door.

The horses jerked forward, and Elsie gripped the seat to remain upright. Something crinkled under her hand. A piece of paper had been left on the cushion.

She picked it up, just making out the bird-foot seal in the moonlight.

The Cowls.





CHAPTER 9



Bacchus had heard of the increased homicides among aspectors in Europe, England in particular, but the security swarming Christie’s Auction House would make Buckingham Palace envious.

A uniformed officer pushed through part of the gathering crowd, waving away pedestrians with frantic arms. Another officer near the door asked for the names of arriving bidders before allowing them entrance.

Rainer, who had braved the crowd while Bacchus waited for the queue to move, reappeared at his side. “Spoke to a footman. There was an attempted theft last night.”