Spellbreaker (Spellbreaker Duology, #1)(51)

She considered this as they entered a modest house just outside a sugar-beet farm in Ipswich. Master Jacques Pierrelo was a master aspector at the Temporal Atheneum. That meant he was wealthy. But this was not the home of a wealthy man. There weren’t even warding spells around the place to protect it—and given the recent rise in crime against spellmakers, that was unwise.

The estate belonged to Master Pierrelo’s brother, who was a wainwright and not a spellmaker. It was Bacchus’s—Mr. Kelsey’s—understanding that the brother had inherited it from their deceased father. Which meant this was likely the home Master Pierrelo had grown up in. It wasn’t a run-down house, or a small house, really. Not like the cottages dotting the Duke of Kent’s land. It was just a little smaller than the stonemasonry shop and all its adjoining rooms, and while its architecture was old, the furniture was nice. Elsie couldn’t help but think the master aspector had been responsible for that.

That made her like him a little more.

Their guide, a cheerful woman in her fifties, introduced herself as Mrs. Pierrelo, but Elsie suspected she was the aspector’s sister-in-law rather than his wife.

“Oh yes.” She ushered Elsie and Mr. Kelsey deeper into the living area. “He mentioned you might come.” She looked at Mr. Kelsey when she said it, but her eyes flitted to Elsie, silently assessing the reason for her presence. The question in them faded into a jolly sort of warmth.

She’d likely concluded they were married. Well, Elsie wasn’t going to bother correcting her. Better let the falsehood lie than explain the truth, especially since they had no chaperone.

“He’s just outside,” said Mrs. Pierrelo. “Make yourselves comfortable in the parlor, and I’ll let him know you’re here.”

If the family had children, they had grown up and moved out already. The parlor Mrs. Pierrelo led them into looked to be a small bedroom converted into a sitting space. Elsie’s own bedroom was a mite larger, but this space was comfortable. It had been used recently, for red embers burned in the little hearth, driving back the chill of the rain. Mrs. Pierrelo dropped two quarter logs on it before hurrying on her way.

“Cozy.” Elsie selected a wooden rocking chair to sit in. Had Mrs. Pierrelo used this very chair to rock her babes to sleep?

Bacchus eyed her.

“What?” she asked.

“I’m trying to determine if you’re jesting or not.”

Elsie stuck up her nose. “I do think it’s cozy. Comfortable. Quaint, in the best of ways. I’m not the one living in a duke’s mansion, Mr. Kelsey.”

He nodded, bemused. After spending two days and a night in a carriage together—they’d stayed at a small inn, in separate rooms, the night before—Elsie was starting to understand his subtle tones and nuances. For instance, three days ago, she might not have translated his fairly stoic countenance as bemused.

She had not told him, but from Colchester to the Highwoods, he had slipped into his Bajan accent.

Mr. Kelsey’s bemusement wore off quickly, however. He paced the room, rubbing his hands together as though cold. Nerves.

“It will be quick.” She noted a loose thread on the cuff of her left sleeve. “I’ll see what it is, take it off if necessary, and the spell will be back on swift as a blink.”

She expected him to retort that he was aware, or that he was not a child, but his only response was a barely perceptible nod. His lack of a reaction only made her more nervous for him.

Elsie’s heart jumped when footsteps sounded on the stairs. She rose from her chair, clamping her hands in front of her. Dropping them. Clutching them behind her.

She dropped them again when a well-dressed man roughly the age of Mrs. Pierrelo entered the room. His hair was a faded brown and thinning, his eyes dark and large. He must have been handsome as a youth.

Bacchus met him instantly, extending a hand in greeting. “Master Pierrelo, thank you for meeting with me.”

“Of course. The plans were already laid; it’s of little inconvenience to me.” He spoke with the slightest trace of a French accent, which made Elsie even more curious about his life story. Glancing at Elsie, he added, “I see you’ve married since I last saw you.”

Elsie glanced away, but Mr. Kelsey was not perturbed. “No, you are mistaken. This is the spellbreaker I’ve hired to assist us.”

Elsie pasted on a smile and offered her best shallow curtsy. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Master Pierrelo. Don’t mind the dress; I’m afraid I’m the only one the institution could spare at such short notice.”

The older man paused for just a moment before nodding. “Of course, Miss—”

“Camden,” she said, trying not to let her voice sound tight. There was less of a chance either she or Mr. Kelsey would slip up if she used her own name, and besides, this man wasn’t going to investigate her. He had no reason to.

“A second spell, you believe?” He turned to Mr. Kelsey.

“Yes. A spellbreaker visiting the Duke of Kent noticed it. But we cannot determine what it is until your spell is removed.” He hesitated. “You’re sure it is not one of yours?”

Master Pierrelo shook his head. “As I said in the letter, I only placed one spell.” Then, meeting Mr. Kelsey’s eyes, he added, “Your father didn’t pay me for any more, lad. Though I suppose you’ve outgrown that term, hmm?”