“My Lady.” Jadish dropped a quick curtsey when she saw Uncle Jalil. “Lady Marlene has arrived.”
I blinked. “Arrived?”
“Yes, My Lady.” Jadish’s voice sounded emotionless, but I knew her well enough to hear the surprise. “She’s waiting in the lower chambers.”
“I see,” I said. I puzzled over it for a long moment. The message had only been sent about thirty minutes ago. And Marlene had come at once? She should have sent back a polite note, then waited for the formal invitation. Very few people would have been able to come at once, unless it was an emergency. “I’ll be down in a moment.”
“I’ll see to the matter we discussed,” Uncle Jalil said. He bowed politely, then headed for the door. “And good luck.”
“Thanks,” I said. I valued his discretion. Could I - could we - trust anyone? “I’ll see you later.”
I tasted bile in my throat. I was caught in a trap. There was no way out that didn’t involve some pain. I was going to pay for my crimes a thousand times over before someone figured out what I’d done. The only real question was who was going to figure it out first. Or when Malachi would reveal the truth. Or ... I wondered, briefly, if I shouldn’t simply make a full confession. It would land me in hot water, and probably destroy the family, but it would deprive Malachi of the pleasure of tormenting me. And yet, there was no way to tell where the pieces would fall. It might end with my destruction and Malachi finding someone else to torment.
And if I can’t get the drop on him, I thought grimly, I’ll be his slave for the rest of my life.
I stood, brushing down my skirt. “Have tea served,” I said to Jadish. It was going to be hard enough talking to Marlene without tipping her off that something was wrong. I hated her, but ... she was more perceptive than I cared to admit. “It’s going to be a long day.”
“Yes, My Lady,” Jadish said.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Thank you for inviting me,” Marlene said, as the first guests started to arrive. “I was getting bored.”
I frowned, trying not to eye her suspiciously. Marlene was an aristocrat. She should have been making the rounds, being introduced to prospective matches so her parents could make the arrangements before they finally allowed her to wear her hair down. She should have been visiting salons, exchanging gossip with her army of friends and generally enjoying the last of her adolescence. Instead ... bored? I puzzled over it for a long moment, wondering if she was trying to get under my skin. Marlene had never been that subtle, but I supposed even she had to grow up sometime.
My eyes wandered over her. She’d copied my style of wearing an older dress, rather than something more fashionable. It was a black dress, drawing the eye to her face and hair rather than her body ... the lack of makeup and cosmetic spells only made her look more striking. I had to admit it looked good on her, although looser around the arms than I would have preferred. And yet, I was surprised she hadn’t chosen something more recent. Perhaps she was trying to be nice. Or perhaps she was engaging in a subtle dig at me.
I put the thought out of my head as Ayesha and Zeya McDonald joined us. For once, the twins weren’t dressed identically. Ayesha wore green, contrasting oddly with her brown hair, while Zeya wore blue. I supposed they didn’t want their prospective matches to mix them up. I’d heard jokes about twins who’d married the wrong men, both declaring themselves perfectly happy with the results when the truth came out, but - in the aristocratic world - such jokes were rarely funny. It would make a mockery of family bloodlines. My heart twisted as I looked at Ayesha, remembering that I had to talk to her ... that I had to blackmail her. I was tempted to run, to flee, to fake my death ... I shook my head. Even if Malachi believed I was dead, he’d release the memory to ruin my family anyway. It would serve as a suitable lesson to anyone else who defied his will.
“Thank you for hosting,” Zeya said. “We’re very pleased.”
“You’re welcome,” I said, automatically. “Try not to be too alone with the boys.”
Ayesha smiled, an expression that faded as she looked down the drive. A new carriage was gliding towards us ... I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. Ayesha and Zeya looked nervous as they arranged themselves, hastily fiddling with their already perfect hair. They’d presumably met their prospective husbands before, but they would have been heavily chaperoned. This was the first time they’d meet the boys without someone from one family or the other watching them like a hawk. I felt a stab of envy, mingled with relief. I wasn’t sure how I would have coped if my father had tried to arrange my marriage.
And he never even tried, I thought. I still had no idea why. He could have betrothed me to Gary - or someone older and richer - if he’d wished ...
I put the thought out of my head as the carriage rattled to a halt. The driver scrambled out, bowed, then hurried to open the door. Two young men - a year or so older than me - climbed out and bowed. They both wore black suits and ties - men had it so easy - as well as wigs that marked them as young men of quality. Edmund and Harry Green were cousins, if I recalled correctly. I was mildly surprised Ayesha and Zeya’s father had agreed to the match, when he could have placed one of his daughters elsewhere. I supposed the negotiations must have been complex. Even I knew House Green was a stickler for the old ways. They claimed to be the second-oldest family in the city and few challenged their claim.
They didn’t look that alike, I decided as they walked up the stairs. Harry was handsome enough, but in a bland way that robbed his face of all character; Edmund was less attractive, yet I saw a sparkle of amusement in his eyes that suggested he was more mischievous than he let on. I hoped he wasn’t going to play any pranks at my party. It would have earned him social death elsewhere, but I didn’t have the clout to make it stick. I suspected Ayesha would make him pay, if he did. Formally, I was hosting the party. Practically, it was her day.
I watched the young men greet the young girls, unsure of my feelings. I’d been denied everything Ayesha and Zeya took for granted, from a formal introduction to society to an arranged match with a social equal. And yet, I knew the downside too. The couples would have been pushed together by their families, with a complete lack of sentiment. They might like each other, they might come to love each other ... or they might not. I turned and followed them into the ballroom, feeling torn between envy and relief. How different would my life have been if I’d come back to my father, instead of inheriting what he’d left of the family?
It would be different, I told myself. And there’s no point in thinking about it.
The band started to play. I was tempted to dance as well, but there was no time. I circled the room, lost in my thoughts. My eyes wandered over the guests, noting a handful of famous and powerful attendees, but I made no attempt to get closer. I’d lost my taste for eavesdropping. Besides, no one made any attempt to invite me. Interestingly, Marlene didn’t seem any more popular than I did. It would have amused me more, I supposed, if my world hadn’t turned into a twisted nightmare. Marlene had always bragged about her legions of friends in the city. I was starting to think she’d lied.
My stomach churned unpleasantly as the hours wore on. I wanted to chicken out, to run, or simply go back to Malachi and offer him anything - anything at all - for letting me off the hook. But it was useless. He didn’t need me to land Ayesha in hot water. He had a spy in her house. All he had to do was pass the message to her in some other way, while revealing my secret to the world. I’d destroy the family for nothing. I wouldn’t even save her.
My heart twisted as I walked past the buffet. We’d hired cooks to prepare the food and maids to distribute it. How many of them could be trusted? I saw a maid wearing a disgraceful dress, handing out treats to young men who weren’t even trying not to stare. Was she trustworthy? Or was she silently listening to their chatter as they drooled? She could take her memories to Malachi and turn their world upside down. I shivered as another thought struck me. Ayesha and Zeya had brought two servants - a dr
iver and a maid - with them. If either or both of them were reporting to Malachi, they would tell him - immediately - if I didn’t do my job. And that would be utterly disastrous.
If I manage to get out of this, I promised myself, I’ll never do anything shady again.
The thought hung in my mind as I turned and surveyed the room. Ayesha and Zeya were dancing openly with their partners, chatting in low voices as they swayed around the dance floor. I supposed they weren’t going to go too far. They weren’t married yet. Who knew how things would end up? The negotiations might still break down. And ... I gritted my teeth as I signalled Jadish. House Green really was composed of sticklers. They’d abandon the negotiations in an instant if they suspected there was even the slightest hint of impropriety surrounding the girls.
“Tell Ayesha I need to speak to her in Room Seven,” I ordered, curtly. “And make sure she’s alone.”
I felt sick - again - as I headed into the side corridor. A handful of rooms were already locked, although I had no way to tell if they were being used for covert discussions or illicit kissing. I’d taken the precaution of sealing off Room Seven during the last few hours of preparation, expecting I’d need to ensure I had ready access to the chamber. The wards were as strong as I could make them, with a handful of tiny additions. If things went really wrong, I might just be able to freeze Ayesha in her tracks and wipe her memory. If ...
“Lucy?” Ayesha stepped into the room, alone. I breathed a sigh of relief. I had no idea if Zeya knew what had happened. If indeed it had happened at all. I’d have preferred more proof than hearsay. “What’s up?”
“I hope you’re enjoying the party,” I said, more out of a need to say something than anything else. I felt wretched. It would be easy to run. I wished I’d had time to slip her a message, to suggest she played along ... Malachi had timed things very well indeed. I simply didn’t have the time to do anything but surrender or run. “We went to a lot of trouble to get you some privacy.”
“Or the illusion of it,” Ayesha agreed, as she took one of the chairs. “And who’ll talk here?”
Your servants, I thought. Ayesha’s maid might have access to her father’s office. Might. I couldn’t quite believe it, but ... it was possible. Whoever had taken the memory hadn’t stepped inside the office itself. They’d just peered inside. You have a traitor in your house and I can’t even tell you.
“I have something to show you,” I said. I took the memory orb from my pocket and held it out. “Look into the orb.”
Ayesha looked at me, her blue eyes narrowing. She didn’t recognise the orb. She had to assume it was ... it was what? I’d never seen anything like it and, apparently, neither had she. It could have been anything. The Thousand Year Empire had used crystal balls to communicate, according to the stories, but there were no working models left. They’d all been broken long ago.
“Look into the orb,” I said. “Please.”
Her eyes went wide as the memory enveloped her. Her hand jerked, dropping the orb. It fell to the ground and bounced. I picked it up as she wilted, her face going dreadfully pale. She would have fallen, if she hadn’t already been seated. I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the story was true. I had hoped, despite everything, that Francis had made up a lie. Better to have Ayesha laugh in my face, or try to kill me, than ... blackmail her.
“You ...” Ayesha stumbled over her words. “How did you ... how did you get that?”
“I’m just the messenger,” I said. I knew it wouldn’t make her feel any more well-disposed towards me. “I” - I met her eyes - “what were you thinking?”
Ayesha looked away. “I was mad at him.”
“So I gather,” I said. One couldn’t use the kissing curse unless there was some genuine anger wrapped up in the spell. And yet ... I found it hard to imagine Akin, of all people, doing something to warrant such anger. “What were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t thinking.” Ayesha stared down at the floor. “We ... I just wanted to humiliate him.”
I felt a sick thrill, mixed with guilt. This wasn’t the thrill of breaking a pointless rule. This wasn’t the glee of being out after Lights Out, or trying to evade the prefects, or seeing a boy outside the wards ... this was sick. I was ashamed of myself for feeling the thrill, ashamed of myself for almost enjoying it. Ayesha ... I saw tears in her eyes. Her entire body was starting to shake. She might be a brat - I knew she’d broken rules, just like me - but she didn’t deserve to be blackmailed.
“I think you succeeded,” I said. It was hard to talk. My voice kept threatening to break. “He must have been mad with rage.”
Ayesha looked up. “What do you want?”
“It’s really very simple,” I said, feeling another rush of self-loathing. I was damned. I was damned and ... I deserved to die. I wondered if she’d try to kill me in my own hall. It might work, if she put enough power into the curse. The wards weren’t anything like as powerful or capable as her family’s wards. “I want a thousand crowns, by the end of the week.”
“Or you tell everyone.” Ayesha was trying to sound strong, but I could hear the quaver in her voice. “Right?”
“Right.” I tried to sound firm. “A thousand crowns, or else.”
Ayesha said nothing. I waited, knowing she was considering her choices. The story might be hushed up, if it came out. Akin certainly had every reason to cooperate, if she went to him and asked for help. And his family might cooperate too. And ... I remembered House Green and cursed under my breath. Ayesha had used the kissing curse. She’d kissed Akin. She would have had to have kissed Akin. And House Green would back off faster than a bully who’d just discovered her victim was powerful enough to make her hurt.
“You ...” Ayesha glared. “A thousand crowns. And that’s everything?”
“For the moment,” I said. I wanted to reassure her, but we’d both know I’d be lying. There would be more demands. “Bring the money here, by the end of the week.”
Ayesha looked faint. She was no fool. She knew it was merely the first demand. I wondered, idly, how she’d get the money. Her father might give it to her, if she asked, or he might ask some very hard questions. House McDonald was wealthy - a thousand crowns would be nothing to them - but there were limits. She probably wouldn’t risk asking her father. If he forced her to tell him the truth, he’d never trust her judgement again. She had been a total idiot, after all.
Just like me, I thought. My heart twisted. I felt dirty. She’s just like me.
“Very well.” Ayesha stood, brushing down her dress. I heard her mutter a pair of cosmetic spells. She’d probably go straight to the washroom, just to ensure she was presentable before she went back on the dance floor. “Lucy ...”
“Go,” I said. I wanted to say I was sorry, I wanted to beg for her forgiveness, but ... it was useless. There was nothing I could say that would make up for what I’d done. “I’ll see you when you return with the money.”
She left, closing the door behind her. I picked up the memory orb and pocketed it, feeling sick. Ayesha had been a fool, but she didn’t deserve to be drained dry. Or have her life torn apart. She hadn’t been anything like me. She hadn’t ... I swallowed hard, trying not to throw up. The thrill of bending someone to my will was both tantalising and horrific. I thought I understood Malachi now. He didn’t want money so much as he wanted power. Direct, personal power. Making me submit to him was far more rewarding to his twisted mindset than anything else. He wouldn’t have that pleasure if he paid or compelled someone to obey.
I forced myself to stand and headed for the door. I almost hoped Ayesha had told Zeya, that her sister had reassured her it wasn’t the end of the world. Zeya seemed to like Ayesha, which was rare amongst the aristocracy. She might even talk Ayesha into confessing to their father, into trying to come to terms with Akin and his family. House Green might never know the truth. Or they might assume it was just a rumour and ignore it. They’d be throwing away their chance of a lifetime if they jumped too soon.
Particularly as there’s no solid proof, I reflected. Malachi didn’t take a memory from someone who was actually there.
“Lucy,” Marlene said. She nodded to me as I walked back into the ballroom. “The guests are ready to depart.”
“You wave them goodbye,” I said. I was too wretched to do anything, but go upstairs and crawl into bed. It was probably a mistake - people would remember, I was sure. It didn’t matter. I was in no state to do anything that involved talking to people. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Marlene looked oddly pleased. Too late, I remembered she was meant to be going home after the party. There were no barriers to letting her stay the night - it wasn’t as if she were a boy - but it would be far too revealing. Marlene was perceptive enough to notice the signs of hasty renovation, if we let her visit the other floors. And she might take advantage of the stay to search the entire hall. Why not? I’d done it myself.
The Lady Heiress (The Zero Enigma Book 8) Page 26