“Yes, it would,” Malachi responded with a polite smile, though inwardly he thought, with violence, God forbid. What a dreadful contemplation. But of course it was impossible. Morcar would never consider marriage to a mere mortal; Cadmarans had but rarely mixed with anyone outside their own kind, and Serafina would rid herself of Julius as soon as she had no further purpose for him.
At just that moment Serafina caught Malachi looking at her and smiled in a wickedly seductive manner. She’d cast lures at him before, but despite her great beauty and human features, he’d never responded with more than a bored stare. There were those among magic mortals who had no qualms in mating with animantis; the Seymours were not among them.
It was not unusual when magic mortals were at social gatherings for one powerful dewin or another to place the mere mortals present into immobility. It was sometimes done in order to erase memories due to an unfortunate remark or ill-timed use of magic. More often, however, it was simply a way of putting mere mortals out of the conversation, and although Malachi could condone such cause once in a while, especially when something of import must be said, he found it insulting and cruel when magic mortals used it for insignificant means, either to make unkind comments regarding mere mortals or to play tricks on them.
During the course of the elegant dinner Serafina Daray had attempted four times to use her magic to paralyze the mere mortals present. Malachi had no notion why, save that she had something particular to say to the magic mortals assembled. And each time less than a second passed before Desdemona countered Serafina’s spell by voiding it, releasing their hosts and mere mortal guests from confinement. Serafina’s fury at having her will thwarted was ill contained, as was Desdemona’s amusement. Serafina attempted to shatter Desdemona’s wineglass when she next picked it up, but Malachi had brought the small disaster to a halt before the first crack could unfold. Then he’d sent a warning glance at Serafina, who’d pointedly ignored him.
With a sigh Malachi steeled himself. It was going to be a long evening.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“I’m glad to see that you had the good sense to wear your spectacles,” Malachi said as he twirled Sarah about in the ball’s first waltz. “Your mother’s absence must account for your having them. If I’d known, I’d never have worn a quizzing glass, but I thought to match your deft use of the lorgnette.”
“I had wondered about that, my lord,” she said. “Having never seen you with one, I had thought you immune to such affectations.”
“Affectations?” he repeated with mock insult. “I hope you do not mean to imply that I’m a slave of fashion, Miss Tamony.”
She laughed. “You are very grand, Lord Graymar, and famed for it, as you know. But I must say you carry it off well. You looked especially stunning tonight, standing just so at the open doors so that all could admire your beauty. If every lady present had only sighed a little more strongly we might have had a hurricane in the room.”
He had to press his lips together to keep from smiling. Attempting to look stern, he said, “You make jest of me, Miss Tamony. I’m wounded. Yes, I am, and there’s no use trying to apologize for it now. Not after I went to the trouble to wear a quizzing glass. Rhys nearly wept when I asked him to fetch it.”
“Did he?” Sarah said sympathetically. “Poor Rhys. I can just imagine it. But you know, my lord, we might have made a game of staring at each other from across the room if I’d worn the lorgnette rather than my spectacles. Perhaps we might have wagered on who could make the other laugh first. But I wanted to keep a better eye on Julius, and the lorgnette is hardly helpful for such a task.” She looked to where her brother was dancing with tiny Serafina Daray. They made a handsome couple. “It breaks my heart to see him so. He’s said not a word to either Philistia or me all night.”
“Philistia doesn’t appear to be worried over it,” Malachi remarked, nodding toward where the Earl of Llew was dancing with the younger girl in his arms, so much taller than she that he nearly swept her off her feet at each turn. Philistia’s pleasure was evident on her face. She laughed, and Morcar, much to Malachi’s surprise, was laughing as well. “It may be a small comfort to you, love, but Morcar appears to enjoy your cousin’s company, despite her being a mere mortal.”
“He’s been fixed on her almost from the moment he arrived,” she said. “It’s extremely odd.”
“That has to do with Desdemona, in part,” Malachi said. “He can’t bear to see her so happy with Dyfed, and is likely doing what he must to divert his thoughts. Seeing her again, and large with child, must be painful for him.”
“Did he truly love her? I find it hard to believe. He seems to have used up that emotion entirely on himself.”
“I suppose that’s true. Cadmarans have always found themselves worthy of awe. Morcar may be worse than most. But it’s no secret that he’s long wished for a wife. Some years ago he planned to kidnap one of my cousins, Ceridwen, and make her his wife, and was gravely disappointed by his failure. Then he found Desdemona and paid a goodly sum for her hand, and by all accounts appeared to be deeply taken with her. I believe he thought she was eager for the marriage, too, for they were both of high-ranking dark clans and well matched in powers. For her to choose a lesser wizard, and a Seymour, must have been quite a blow. I can almost feel sorry for him.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Can you, my lord?”
“I can,” he said, pressing her slightly nearer with the pressure of his hand at her waist. “I know what it is to be alone, and to wonder if that condition will last forever.”
“Have you, Malachi?” she asked softly. “I find that surprising, but I suppose all mortals are vulnerable to such thoughts. There are those who would think your life perfect. You have had many beautiful mistresses and no wife to worry about.”
“Any man who would prefer many beautiful mistresses to one loving wife is a fool,” he stated. “I know whereof I speak. I do not know what Morcar might believe. But even if loneliness and desire drive him to be intemperate, he would never take a mere mortal wife. I only pray he’ll not break Philistia’s heart.”
Sarah’s brow furrowed as she cast another glance in the direction of the dancing couple. “Is there nothing that can be done to stop him?” she asked. “If he should ruin her …”
“She’s no longer a child, sweetheart,” he said. “Only Philistia can decide what transpires between herself and Lord Llew. If he had enchanted her, I might be able to approach the Guardians on her behalf. But she is ruled by her heart alone, and no one, either magic or mortal, can force that disobedient organ into submission save the owner of it.”
When the dance ended, Malachi escorted Sarah to the punch bowl and thereafter, having chatted politely with a few acquaintances, said, “Let’s go have a word with Serafina.”
“Oh no,” Sarah murmured. “That can’t be a good idea.”
“Don’t be afraid, love,” he encouraged softly, leading her inexorably toward the place where Serafina and Julius were resting following the dance. “She’ll not cause you harm again.”
Serafina was surrounded by her devoted magical sycophants. Her blue eyes lit at their approach, ready for battle, while Julius only stared and showed no sign of recognition.
The other wizards and sorceresses quietly took a few steps away, gazing at the Dewin Mawr warily.
“Why, Lord Graymar,” Miss Daray said in her delicate, bell-like voice when they stopped before her. “You’ve come at last to speak with me. I had expected you long before now.”
He lifted a hand and a kind of veil fell about them. Those outside of it moved and spoke just as before but far more dimly. They suddenly appeared not to be aware of those who stood within the veil.
“I would have come last night, Serafina,” Malachi said easily. “To throttle you. You are fortunate that I was otherwise engaged.”
“Yes, I know,” she replied sweetly. “With Miss Tamony. I’ve discovered that the brother is quite satisfying. I hope you’ve found the
sister to be the same.” To Sarah she said, “How pleasant to see you again, Miss Tamony. You’re looking well.” She laughed.
Malachi lifted his hand once more, the barest movement. Serafina’s laughter ceased and she made a choking sound. Her hands flew up to her neck, and she gasped, her eyes widening with panic. Her companions moved even farther back, murmuring. Malachi’s hand lowered and Serafina nearly fell from her chair, gulping for air. Another movement of his hand and she sat bolt upright, her head flung back to meet his gaze.
“Do not assume, Serafina,” he said quietly, “that because I have not punished you yet, I either cannot or will not. We have not dealt together much and so I have let you go about your way, so long as you’ve done nothing to draw my attention. But never mistake my forbearance for anything more. Your powers are great, but I am the Dewin Mawr. Never forget it again.”
Her eyes flashed with fury. “I’ll make you forget it, Malachi Seymour,” she vowed, her voice raw and dark. Gone was the childish creature of moments before. “When I control the power of the cythraul.”
“It’s a pretty dream for you to hold near,” Malachi said. “But I wouldn’t cherish it overmuch, were I you. Until one—or neither—of us comes out the victor in that contest, I remain your superior. And as such, I’m going to give you certain commands to obey.”
She opened her mouth to speak, and Malachi lifted his hand, cutting off her intake of air once more.
“First, you’re not to cause Miss Tamony harm again. In any way, or by any method. Do you understand me, Serafina?”
She nodded vigorously and he released her. She gasped for breath.
“Second, until I’ve found the way to release him from the spell you’ve cast over him, you’re to make certain that Julius Tamony returns to his home each evening in good time to keep his parents from worrying. He is to be unharmed and in excellent condition. You are to instruct him to behave cordially to his family, and to eat and drink whatever is set before him.”
She glared at Malachi, but didn’t argue.
“Lastly,” he went on, “you will leave Desdemona in peace. She’s likely to do something foolish if you push her too far. Another time you can take such wild chances with your life, but not until after the child has come.”
With another wave of his hand Malachi removed the veil. The sound and movement of the room grew louder, clearer. Making a slight bow, he said civilly, “Enjoy your evening, Miss Daray.”
“Are you quite sure she’ll not harm Julius?” Sarah asked as Malachi led her away. “She’s so angry, and he’s so close at hand.”
“She’ll not risk making another misstep that might draw down my wrath,” he said, patting the hand that rested upon his arm. “Not unless she truly finds the way to gain the cythraul before I do,” he added. “But we must pray that it is not so. Ah, here’s our chance, while no one is looking.” He deftly pulled her out a pair of open French doors and into Lord and Lady Herold’s beautiful lamp-lit garden.
“Dear me,” Sarah murmured, “you are clearly well versed in such escapes, my lord. Dare I accompany you into the darkness? You might very well attempt improprieties.”
“Of course I will,” he admitted. “I’d be an idiot not to, especially when you’re attired in a gown composed in such a manner that it makes me want to remove it. Really, love, you shall have to let me choose your gowns after we’ve wed. I don’t want other men ogling my wife’s bosom.”
“My lord—”
“Malachi,” he corrected. “But we’ll not speak of marriage now.”
“I don’t want to speak of it at all,” she said, “for you know very well that we cannot marry, and I shall find it depressing to have to remind you. You really ought to tell me instead about how matters ended in Scotland. Did you manage to assuage the unhappy father? Are your cousin and his bride safe?”
“Safe and wed, legally this time, with witnesses on both sides. I stood up for the groom just to be certain. The bride’s father may not be pleased that his daughter wed a magic mortal, but the dowry we agreed upon will soothe his loss. I never fail to be astonished at how agreeable people can become when filthy lucre enters the bargain. Here, shall we take this path?” He led her down one that was particularly dark. “It looks promising.”
Malachi found a bench hidden within a cluster of bushes and with magic lowered the light of the lamps nearby.
“Will you truly find it depressing to have to refuse my offers of marriage, Sarah?” he asked, sitting beside her. “I shall, if you’re too persistent in refusing me.”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she murmured, “I’m so glad you’ve returned,” and kissed him.
Malachi responded with the hunger that he’d felt for her since they’d separated. Gathering her into his arms, he turned his head and kissed her deeply. They were breathing harshly by the time he managed to pull away. She tried to bring him back, but he took her hands from about his neck and straightened.
“No,” he said, his voice shaking. “No. Gad, only let me think a moment. Now, Sarah, no.” He gently pushed her questing hands into her lap. Then he scooted a few inches away. “If you’re not careful, I’m going to forget everything and take you back to Mervaille. And then how will Philistia get home?”
Sarah made a sound of displeasure but obediently stopped trying to lure him back. “Very well. For Philistia’s sake.” She sighed. “I suppose I should tell you about my time with Professor Seabolt.”
Malachi would have preferred to hear her sigh again, with far more privacy, but he said, “Yes,” and made himself listen.
Primly folding her hands in her lap, Sarah told him of the list she and the professor had compiled, of their decision to exclude Wales from their compilation, and about Tego.
“Tego?” Malachi repeated. “No, I don’t recall meeting him during my last visit to the professor’s home. You believe he may be one of Serafina’s spies?”
“I don’t know,” she said, “but his magic is dark—I felt that the moment I met him—and he found ways to make himself present as often as possible while I was with Professor Seabolt. It would explain how Serafina Daray learned about my journal.”
“It would also mean that she knows we’re looking for a bell with Charles the Second’s figure on it,” Malachi murmured. “I’ll look into the matter as soon as possible. But not until tomorrow, for I’ve had a wearying day dealing with troublesome pests, and all my night hours are spoken for.” He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss beneath her ear.
Sarah dutifully remained where she was, hands folded. For Philistia’s sake. He scooted nearer, slipping a hand about her waist. She ignored him. Turning her chin with the tip of one finger, he kissed her mouth. She tried humming to distract her mind. He kissed her again, causing the humming to fade. Just as Sarah’s hands had unfolded, Dyfed’s silent speech interrupted their bliss. Malachi lifted his head with a sigh and gazed into Sarah’s foggy spectacles.
“Something’s happened,” he said apologetically. “We have to return indoors. Morcar’s left in a hurry and your cousin seems determined to follow.”
* * *
No one was certain about what had transpired, save that Morcar and Desdemona had gotten too close to each other and exchanged words, and Philistia overheard them. Desdemona refused to speak of what had passed and insisted that her husband take her home. Philistia refused to speak, as well, though she shot scathing glances at Desdemona, clearly believing the fault to be hers. She wanted to leave the ball, too, as quickly as possible.
“Whatever Desdemona said to Morcar,” Niclas replied when pressed by Malachi, “it couldn’t have been too terrible. He simply left. If anyone was overset, it was Desdemona. And the Seymour girl.” He nodded to where Sarah was trying to soothe her younger cousin. “She actually asked him to take her with him, and did nothing to lower her voice. I fear there will be the worst manner of rumors flying about Town tomorrow. Worse still is that I felt her emotions. She’s in love with him, poor girl.”
“I feared it was so,” Malachi said. “Were you able to tell whether it was deeper than mere infatuation?”
Niclas’s expression was somber. “She’s given him her heart. We’ll not be able to spare her from the pain she’ll suffer when he turns her aside.”
“Poor child,” Malachi murmured. “And all of Society will talk of nothing else, especially after the spectacle she made of herself this evening. Perhaps I should—”
“No, cousin,” Niclas said firmly. “Philistia Tamony has my every sympathy—you know I speak the truth. But she’s mere mortal. The Guardians frown upon the use of magic to alter memories for the sake of any but our kind.”
Malachi absently toyed with his quizzing glass. “Even so,” he said. “It would mean a great deal to Sarah. I shall remain and make some few repairs. Will you and Julia be so good as to see Sarah and her cousin safely to their carriage?”
Two hours passed before Sarah made her way down the hall to her own bedchamber. She was exhausted, having dealt first with her cousin’s tearful unhappiness at being parted from Lord Llew and then, unexpectedly, with the sudden appearance of her brother.
Sarah had never seen Philistia behave in such a manner. The younger girl was given to histrionics, and this was far from her first experience with believing herself to be in love. But tonight Philistia was beyond reassurance. She was hysterical. Sarah had tried everything, from gentle words to firm insistence. Nothing touched Philistia. One moment she vented her wrath at Desdemona Seymour for giving insult to the Earl of Llew; the next she was resolved to go to Lord Llew with the intention of consoling him yet refused, when pressed, to explain why that gentleman might need such a thing.
“But surely Mrs. Seymour can’t have said anything so awful,” Sarah said patiently. “And if she did, then Lord Llew is far too sensitive to have reacted in such a foolish manner.”
“It was not foolish!” Philistia cried hotly. “She hurt him terribly. They were engaged to be married once—he told me so himself, and I could see the pain in his eyes as he spoke of it. She broke his heart, Sarah, and then tonight she laughed at him because of it. In front of others, and mocked his pain. I hate Desdemona Seymour. If you marry Lord Seymour I shall never, ever speak to her, no matter how often we find ourselves in company.”
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