She overlooked the acid in his tone and responded gleefully: “Not until tomorrow! We were just coming back from the village.” He seemed mollified, either by her response or her obvious delight. “Well, I knew that you wouldn’t mind if I showed up early, though that steward of yours might not be as kind…” Mia laughed. “His staff might have an issue, but mine is larger and better prepared. We’ll find you a bed somewhere. Let’s go. You look thirsty, hungry, and tired, in that order.” Ethan chuckled wearily. “It’s only a two hour ride from the City.” Mia glanced at the dark circles under his eyes. “But what were you doing for two days before that?”
She didn’t get an answer to that question until that evening. After tea, a bath, and a nap Ethan looked more like himself, even with dark circles under his eyes. They were playing a quiet game of cards while most of the others engaged in a louder game of lottery tickets at the other end of the room. He eyed Mr. Dempsey over her shoulder when he thought she wasn’t looking. It wasn’t a friendly look, and not one she’d want directed at her unprotected back. She’d hoped that the two of them would get along. “So what have you been doing?” she asked as she dealt the cards. His eyes slid again to the other table as Vivian loudly placed a bet against Sarah’s father. “I’ve been working with Professor Patrick on a few things, putting together a revised Creation lesson plan with the Headmistress…this and that.” Mia gave up. He wasn’t going to tell her more.
Professor Fain lost three hands of cards before he asked “If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I think I’d better go outside and let the cool air clear my head.” Mia decided to go out with him, secretly a little worried that he might fall asleep on the veranda and freeze to death. Lady Anne followed them out before Mia had the chance to feel the chill.
“My daughter has informed me that you will be giving Mia additional lessons in Creation over the break. It’s my understanding that the headmistress wants these lessons to be kept quiet?” Mia nodded, hoping that Professor Fain’s opened-mouthed expression wouldn’t erupt into a fit until they were alone. The lady smiled as her eyes flicked to the professor’s face. “We’ll arrange something then, to make sure that you have time and space. I’ll cast the protective barrier myself so you won’t have to waste energy on that.” With that, she returned to the game room.
“Did you tell the whole world you were taking private lessons?” He whispered as they shivered on the terrace. Mia turned her back to the windows so the others couldn’t see her face. “Of course not! But you must admit that it would appear odd if you and I were to continually escape the woman who has agreed to chaperone my house party. I had to tell her something or she would have leapt to the wrong conclusion for why a young man and a girl might want to wander off by themselves. I assure you that I don’t have any intention of being a blushing bride before my fifteenth birthday.” He turned a paler shade of white. Lady Anne had the social clout to force the issue if they compromised the strict code of honor expected out of a wand wielder. Professor Fain knew, of course. Proper behavior was bred into the old bloods along with their hair and eye color.
“It was much simpler to tell her part of the truth and enlist her help than to try to sneak around. She’ll find a way to let us have time for the lessons and protect both of our reputations at the same time.” He looked down at his shoes. “I understand why you told her, but I wish you would have discussed it with me. I had a horrible moment where I thought that our task was doomed to failure, and that I had bought a rather dapper new swallowtail coat for nothing.” Mia grinned at his playful tone, and accepted it for the apology he didn’t want to make. “You could always wear it to the wedding. Mr. Dempsey and Adeline Stubbs are getting married after the ball. I’m sorry Lady Anne announced her intentions before I had the chance to discuss it with you. I didn’t know that she wanted to join us.” He nodded thoughtfully. “If she’s casting the protective spells, I’ll have more energy to teach. That’s not a bad thing.” Mia smiled at his conciliatory tone, and they returned to the warm rooms to finish their hand of cards.
***
Professor Fain left that night with Mr. Dempsey, despite Mia’s protests that she didn’t want to overburden his staff. “They’re green with envy about not being here, where all the action is. They’ve had Professor Fain’s bed made and ready since last week when my bride-to-be finally received the last of the linens from the seamstress’.” Professor Fain rose to occasion: “I heard that congratulations were in order…” Mr. Dempsey grinned. “We’re going to be married the week after mid-winter, so that Miss Mia can join us.” Professor Fain asked all the right questions in exactly the right tone to make his host comfortable, and winked at Mia as he walked out. She started, surprised at his sudden warmth toward the steward. He’d seemed less than friendly before. She mentally shrugged and went upstairs to get ready for bed. She was happy he was here, and willing enough to leave it at that.
Sir Kendrick, Sarah’s father, was up and reading the City Times when Mia came down to breakfast the next morning. He was an unprepossessing man, neither small nor large, with regular features and a lean frame. Mia was familiar enough with him to know to leave him to his paper. She shoveled eggs on her plate as he turned the pages. She was adding sugar to her tea when he put the paper down.
“And how are you this morning Miss Mia?” She’d long ago convinced him to use the shortened version of her given name. “Very well Sir Kendrick. Did you enjoy today’s paper?” He grimaced slightly. “Well, it’s actually yesterday’s paper. But yes, I suppose I did enjoy reading it, though I can’t say that I enjoyed everything I read.”
He took pity on the perplexed look that she probably had plastered on her face. “They announced a few changes I don’t care for, that’s all. They’ve increased guild fees on tin again, and the CTA is increasing the percentage of grain it can legally demand in tithes. The Magus needs to reign Greatlord Strathorne in, especially since neither of those things come under his traditional purview.” He smiled as he folded the paper neatly and put it away.
“It’s not really the sort of thing that young people should have to concern themselves with. If it gets bad enough, the council elders will have to step in.” He poured himself another cup of coffee as Vivian wandered into the breakfast room, and the talk turned to other things.
***
Sarah told Lady Anne that Mia was receiving extra lessons in Creation and that they would start during the house party. “The headmistress doesn’t want anyone to know about the extra lessons. She’s afraid they might take Mia away from college early to work if anyone finds out how powerful she is.” That was very true, but the statement left out some of the more disturbing elements. The circumstance had happened often enough for Lady Anne to know it was possible, and to agree to her daughter’s plan. She would help them conceal the lessons and make sure that Mia had time each day to arrange them with Professor Fain. For propriety’s sake, she insisted that one of the other girls go with them. “Actually, any of you with a talent for Transfiguration or Creation might want to watch. It should be interesting.”
After breakfast the next morning, Mia asked the others to come with her to explore the dusty gallery, and Mrs. Wallace accompanied them to recite the family history she’d learned since coming to the house. “The paintings start with your great-great-great grandfather, Humphrey Wellington II.” The man in the picture was tall, with short black hair receding from his forehead and sharp blue eyes. He was holding his wand in one hand and the other was shoved into a pocket in his voluminous coat. He stood in front of what must have been the old manor house: it was originally white with columns on each side, each six feet in diameter. Ivy and moss grew everywhere, most unlike the neat gardens in the new manor. There was green slime on the side of the building, as if scrubbing the wood to remove it would be too much work.
An older Humphrey was pictured in a second painting with his wife and family. His head was turned to look at her, while she smiled and looked forward. She had grey hair
in the portrait, but her eyes were the same shade of gold as Mia’s. Two adult men stood on either side of the parents, each with a black haired, blue-eyed wife. They had married sisters. One man held a little brown-haired little boy, and one of the wives held a small blue blanketed bundle. Three girls sat on stools in front of the parents, each in a frothy confection of a dress.
“Greatlord Humphrey had five children.” Mrs. Wallace ran her hand along the wooden frame of the portrait. “It wasn’t all that unusual in those days. The two boys were considerably older than the triplets. The Greatlord, his wife Lady Agnes, their sons and their wives were killed in a terrible fire in the townhome when they were at the City for a session of Council. The triplets raised Charles and his cousin at the estate. The girls were named Hattie, Mildred, and Pearl. They were fifteen when they took charge of two young children.” She pointed to a miniature of the boys hanging beside the larger family portrait. Charles was wearing a somber look until you saw the eyes. He was probably six or seven in the painting. The cousin had the pale skin, black hair, and blue eyes typical of old blood coloring. He looked forward with a much different expression.
There was another, more traditional portrait of Charles Wellington. He was probably not quite twenty, with Mia’s light brown hair and golden eyes. “He was a rogue, that young Charles Wellington; you can tell if you look in the eyes. Millie Wellington painted this one herself. Greatlord or not, I imagine he wasn’t above playing a prank or two…or getting swatted for it either.” He was smiling, standing in front of the new manor with his wand raised, the stance copied directly from his Grandfather’s formal portrait. The artist had caught his good humor. There was another picture of three tiny little old ladies, two were playing chess and the other was reading a book in a comfortable-looking room. A portrait of the triplets in later years.
The next painting was of Charles with a black-haired girl with laughing green eyes. She was very pregnant. A black haired baby was sleeping comfortably in his father’s arms. The next one was of two little boys, dressed in knee britches and starched collars. The larger of the two was grinning, and the younger was trying to keep a straight face, but his eyes danced with merriment. Mrs. Wallace commented “Your great-grandfather Albert and his younger brother, Thomas. Albert was the oldest and inherited the estate, but Thomas became a Greatlord, he was awarded lands in the north. There’s a line of cousins that are distantly related to you from his branch of the family tree.” Lizzy grinned and asked Beth “I wonder if that’s Aubrey Wellington’s line? He is a neighbor of ours. He’s a very nice old gentleman.” Mia smiled to hide the surprise of having family alive…even a distant cousin.
The next framed piece of art wasn’t a painting at all, but an outline of two people in wedding clothing. “Oh I’ve read about these!” Vivian explained excitedly. “They were very popular about sixty years ago. An artist would bring the couple into a dark room and light a very bright magelight behind them. Then he would draw the outline on a piece of thin calves’ skin pulled tight in a frame.” Mrs. Wallace nodded. “That would be about right. This is an outline that Lord Albert and his bride, Lady Fey had taken right before the wedding. This next group of sketches are all what the lady did herself in charcoal.” Several portraits of a fat baby and an adorable little girl followed. Lady Fey must have spent a great deal of time at the home where her only child was raised.
In a dark frame was a portrait of a strikingly beautiful girl smiling with a handsome red-headed man. Amelia Wellington had the family’s gold eyes, but her hair was as black as any old blood wand wielder could wish. Her husband, Peter, had long auburn hair and deep blue eyes. When asked, Mrs. Wallace didn’t know much of his history. “I believe she met him at college. He was a second generation wand wielder, but not a Greatlord. If I’m correct, he had an aunt or an older sister who raised him, but that was his only family. I don’t know what happened to her. You might find out more in the family history.” Mia didn’t mention that she’d already read it. There wasn’t any mention of Peter Rusticov’s family, except that he came from the north.
The last painting on the wall was of a girl, probably twelve years old, who looked like she would rather be anywhere but sitting for a portrait. Her hair was black like her mother’s, but her eyes were the deep blue her father’s had been. Alexandra Rusticov looked like any other old blood wand wielder, if they happened to have striking cheekbones, thick lashes, full lips, and a mulish expression.
Mrs. Wallace grimaced. “You mustn’t imagine that your mother was an unpleasant child. She was stubborn, but rarely unpleasant. She just hated sitting for portraits, and I suppose she didn’t think that she had anyone who wanted this one. It was after her parents died you see, and they were painting them at the wanded home where she lived till she was able to go to college. Did you know that she snuck into the testing a year early? Passed too, but the college wouldn’t take her until the next year. I’ve never heard of a person who despised the homes more than she did. That’s why she sent you to her friend Emma. She didn’t want you to spend your youth trying to sneak out to play in the woods. Time enough to learn everything a lady needs to know now, when it’s beginning to matter.” Mrs. Wallace nodded emphatically. Mia looked expectantly. “She didn’t have a portrait taken with my father?”
Mrs. Wallace shook her head and said gently “She was so mysterious about that. I was her maid at the time and even I don’t know who he was. She wouldn’t have been able to weather the scandal if she hadn’t been a Greatlady. A few old tabbies still kicked up a stink about it, but she ignored them. Never answered a question about it as far as I ever heard. It would have ruined anyone else. Whatever her reason, we have you and that’s enough.” She touched Mia’s cheek with one hand. “Your mother would have been so proud of you!”
Mrs. Wallace stared at the portrait, but her mind was obviously miles away. “I wish she’d kept to her original plan. She was going to give birth here, with Missus Faithling to deliver you. We’d had a birthing room and protective spells set up for months. Something spooked her when she was about eight months along, spooked her so much that she traveled back to the City to give birth in a specially designed room, protected from magic, but guarded by wand wielders. Some said she was paranoid about the birth, worried over nothing. But I knew my lady, and she wasn’t afraid of anything, at least not for herself. She was the most powerful wand wielder of her generation. The Magus himself laid the protections around the set of rooms she’d taken, since she couldn’t do it. I’ve often wondered what it was that frightened her so, but she left me here when she went back to the City, promoted me to housekeeper when old Nell retired. I wish I’d been there Miss. But I hunted up the midwife a few years after…barmy as a bat by that time, living in the City, making a living mixing potions. She said she never delivered another baby after your mother died. She swore to me that there was nothing uncanny about her death. The council investigated and they couldn’t find anything either.” She shook her head as if she still couldn’t understand what had happened. “Women do still die in childbirth…sometimes. But not wand wielders, not often.” She shook her head again and looked up with shiny eyes.
Mrs. Wallace stared at Mia, obviously wondering if she’d revealed too much, waiting for her to break down and morn the mother who’d died giving birth to her. Mia shifted her weight around a bit, terribly uncomfortable. They were technically speaking about her mother. A few years after the little girl with the obstinate expression snuck into the testing early, something happened and she died. Mia could feel sorry for the little girl in the portrait. She understood intellectually that her life would have been much different if her mother had lived. But it just didn’t seem…real. None of it felt like they were talking about her mother. It felt like they were talking about someone in a history book or a story. Her mother was nothing to her but a picture and a few reminisces. She wasn’t the one who had rocked her to sleep when she was a child. Her mother hadn’t been around to heal scratched knees, bake coo
kies, or teach the young Mia to read. Emma had done all of that. Alexandra Rusticov was a woman that her daughter had never known.
In order to hide her discomfort Mia pulled her pocket watch out and glanced at the time. “We have to hurry! We’re supposed to meet Lady Anne in the ballroom in ten minutes!” She didn’t really meet Mrs. Wallace’s eyes as she thanked her for her time and hurried down to the first floor. Her friends didn’t mention the incident, at least not to her. She was grateful.
***
Lady Anne provided the time and place for lessons by the simple expedient of telling the servants that they would be in the ballroom for the next two or three hours. “All right Professor. I’ll cast the protective circle so that the magic won’t leak out, and you take the girls through as much as you can safely manage today. They’ll be decorating the ballroom tomorrow so we might not have a place to work.” Professor Fain, who was at turns impressed and annoyed by Lady Anne nodded his head and began the lesson, assuming she could do what she said she could.
Not every wand wielder could cast a protective spell to keep magic in a contained area. It was a power most commonly found in those who had Greatlord or Lady Status. Lady Anne made the complicated swoop with her wand and Ethan felt the circle close around them. The best magical theorists postulated that the ‘leakage’ from wand use was what caused infertility within the City bounds. It was almost certainly responsible for some of the stranger mutations that sometimes occurred right outside the City walls. The protective circle both contained the magical energy and protected the people inside it. It wasn’t necessary for all magic, but for the more complicated spells it provided a layer of protection that most wand wielders felt uncomfortable without.
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