Spellbreaker (Spellbreaker Duology, #1)(71)

The symbol of the Cowls.

Her jaw dropped. Then, as though the thing were a live ember, she shoved it back into the bottle, corked it, and replaced it in the drawer. She slammed the drawer shut and retreated two steps.

The Cowls . . . Ogden was one of them?

But it made so much sense. How their letters had always found their way into her most personal spaces, without a trace. Like their deliverer knew precisely where she’d find them. Besides which, he’d always been so generous with her time, as if he knew she was putting it to good use.

Had Ogden always been one of them, or had he converted to their cause after hiring her? Had he discovered something she had not, and been inducted into their fold?

He undoubtedly knew one thing . . . He knew she was a spellbreaker.

Gooseflesh prickled her arms and legs. All the questions she’d wrestled with since the night of the workhouse fire flooded back. Why had he kept it a secret? For Emmeline?

It struck her that Mr. Parker probably wasn’t involved at all. Ogden had said, The squire has his hands in all sorts of nefarious affairs. Was that what his steward had been hiding? Not his penmanship, but a letter trying to sort out one of Squire Hughes’s misdeeds?

But of course it was Ogden! He was an artist. It wouldn’t be hard for him to disguise his handwriting . . .

She needed to think on all of this, to decide the best path forward, and yet it felt as if she’d opened a new book with too many pages. She had to get to Juniper Down now.

But the Cowls . . .

“Elsie?”

She jumped at Emmeline’s voice. Smoothed the sides of her hair. “Emmeline. Do you . . . know where Ogden keeps our savings passbooks?”

She considered for a moment. “Did you check under the bed?”

“I . . . no.”

Jittery, she crouched by the bed and pulled out a wooden box of documents. Sure enough, all three of their passbooks were stored near the top. Elsie grabbed hers and held it to her chest. She didn’t know how much money she’d need, so she would withdraw all of it. There were still bandits about—

Juniper Down. The Cowls. Her family. Ogden.

Her head was going to explode.

Hurrying to her bedroom, Elsie stuck the passbook into her chatelaine bag and closed her valise, noting a second cloth package of food tucked within it.

“Thank you, Emmeline.” She hauled the valise into the hallway. She dragged it down the stairs and set it on the table, then worried her hands as she waited for Ogden to return. He came through the door less than a quarter hour later.

“I’ll take you to London,” he said the moment he stepped into the dining room. He took her valise in hand. “Send us word as soon as you can.”

Elsie nodded, unsure of what else to say.

She hoped he didn’t notice her awe.





CHAPTER 20



She could have asked him about it on the way to London. There were so many ways Elsie could have started the conversation. Mr. Ogden, do you know what I am?

Or, I found an interesting knickknack in one of your drawers.

Or even, Why didn’t you tell me you were one of the Cowls?

Granted, Cowls was a nickname Elsie had invented. It wasn’t what the group actually called itself.

In the end, she didn’t say a word, knowing the ride to London would never be long enough for all of her questions. And if Ogden was angry that she’d inadvertently snooped and discovered his true identity . . . What if he did something that forbade her from going to Juniper Down?

She had to go. This was more important than . . . anything.

Elsie purchased a hotel room for the night in Reading, the closest train stop to Juniper Down, although she might as well not have bothered. She paced her small room for hours, then failed to sleep on both the chair and the bed. It wasn’t until near dawn she managed to drift off, only to wake to a rain-choked sunrise with a tiny bit of drool on her pillow.

It was just as well.

She dressed quickly, making herself nearly as presentable as she’d been for the duke’s dinner, though she couldn’t truss up her hair the same way Emmeline did. She would see her family today. The very thought made her heart flutter.

She wondered if Bacchus would still be in England when she returned. Would he want to know about this wonderful turn of events?

Someone had found her. Come back for her. This changed everything.

Smiling at herself in the small mirror on the wall, Elsie pinned her purple hat carefully to her hair. Then she packed up her valise and lugged it downstairs, where a concierge kindly hired her a carriage. The driver took her southwest, toward Juniper Down, a tiny village barely worth a dot on a map. She hadn’t been there since she was six. Never visited, only written. She wondered if it still looked how she remembered it . . . though she mostly just remembered the interior of the Halls’ house.

She wrung her fingers together until her lace gloves threatened blisters. Then she practiced what she would say. If it was her mother or her father—or perhaps both!—she’d of course ask why they had left. Why they’d waited so long to come back for her. But that couldn’t be the first thing out of her mouth. She wanted to start on the right foot. She wanted to make them happy they had at last come for her. The questions would follow.

If it was a sibling . . . Where have you been all this time? Do you remember me? Did they leave you, too?