Courting Magic (Kat, Incorrigible #4)(24)



As the spells smoothed out my skin and coloring and I breathed in my signature scent, my mind clicked back into working order almost against my will, battering at the puzzle of Alexander’s earlier discovery.

Every witch was born with their own signature scent, theirs for life and particular only to them. Even Angeline and I, sisters born only five years apart, had distinctly different scents to our witchcraft: her spells always smelled of rich, sweet lilacs. Admittedly, London was crowded to the gills and overflowing with people, perhaps one in twenty of whom might have been born with witchcraft in their blood…and coincidences did happen, even if I’d never heard of this particular type before…but still: there was a far smaller circle of people who were likely to attend this sort of ball.

The notion of two of them, both born witches, and both skilled illusionists, just happening to share a nearly identical signature scent—? No. That pushed my credulity to its breaking point.

Perhaps our rogue wasn’t a man after all. If Mrs. Montrose had disguised herself in male form with a real transformation spell, might her scent have altered with the change in sex? It didn’t sound at all likely to me, but it was the only explanation I could think of.

“Do you know anything about Mrs. Philippa Montrose?” I asked Lucy, as she finished sticking the last pin into my hair.

“Hmm?” Her forehead crinkled in a frown. “Oh, she’s married to Sir Horace Montrose’s younger son, isn’t she? I’d guess she’s aiming to move higher in Society, though, from everything I’ve seen. She certainly wouldn’t be caught dead talking to me.” Lucy laughed. “Why? Did she say something horrible to you?”

“Oh, no,” I said. “I’m just curious. That’s all.”

“Oh, I see.” Lucy tilted her head to study me in the mirror. “This is Guardian business, isn’t it?”

I hesitated. Lucy was one of the few non-Guardians who knew of the Order’s existence at all. Of course I trusted her, but…

“I understand,” she said. “You can’t say a word. But that explains what you and Lanham were doing together. He must be involved in this mission, too.” She nodded decisively. “I’ll see what I can find out for you, shall I?”

“That would be wonderful.” I smoothed down my gown as I stood up, drawing a deep breath.

What had happened with Alexander in the gardens…was not something I would allow myself to think about anymore tonight. Not until I was safely enclosed in my room in Elissa’s house, at any rate, with everyone else in the house asleep and no one there to see me.

Right now, though, I wasn’t free to hide from the rest of the world any longer. I was here on a mission, and not even a broken heart was going to distract me from it.

I had the rest of my life for that.

For the moment, I took Lucy’s arm and squeezed it with real gratitude. “Let’s go back in.”

***

Tonight’s ball might have inspired the Marquess’s disdain, but it was exactly our rogue’s favorite type of hunting ground: filled with good society but not the very best. Ladies at this sort of ball tended to be wealthy enough to wear valuable jewelry and make good pickings for the rogue’s thefts—but they could easily be fooled and impressed by the unexpected appearance of an aristocrat who was socially high above them. Meanwhile, the real aristocrat was unlikely to appear in person to spoil our rogue’s disguise.

From the moment I returned to the Marquess’s side, just as the dessert course was coming to an end, I was poised and ready. While the couples around us dipped their final biscuits in the dregs of their sweet wine, and laughter rose in waves around the table, I nibbled on a handful of dry almonds and raisins with my gaze darting from side to side, ready to take in any disturbance or singularity, particularly near Mrs. Montrose’s end of the room.

I would not be distracted from my duties any longer…even by the expression on my older sisters’ faces as I caught them both staring at me from the other end of the table, eyebrows raised in blatant incredulity.

Hmm. Perhaps I did look a bit frightening for a supposedly social occasion.

With an effort, I smoothed the scowl of concentration off my face and turned to face the Marquess for the first time since I’d returned. “We should talk,” I murmured. “Alexander—I mean, Mr. Harding—has made a discovery that—”

“There you are!” Mr. Packenham bounded to my side like an overly exuberant wolfhound, his cheeks flushed and his cravat disordered. “I’ve come to claim my second dance!”

“Already?” I winced, glancing around. It was true that a few couples were starting to rise from the table, but most diners were still seated, and the orchestra in the ballroom was still only warming up. “Perhaps…”

“No time like the present!” he said. “Come, come, Miss Stephenson! I won’t be denied, you know! A promise is a promise!”

His patronizing tone scraped against my skin like sandpaper, but I could feel Stepmama’s warning glare from across the room, and I knew better than to refuse.

“Fine,” I said. “Perhaps we can discuss business while we wait for the music to begin.”

“Business?” He brayed a laugh that made heads turn all around the table. “Dashed vulgar topic that, Miss Stephenson! I have better things to discuss with a lovely lady, if you know what I mean, haha!”

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