Courting Magic: A Kat, Incorrigible Novella

by Burgis, Stephanie

  “Oh, well…” I shrugged, grimacing. “That was all a bit embarrassing, but—”

  “How?” Alexander asked tightly. He stepped closer, his tone dropping to a low growl. “How exactly did he embarrass you, Kat? And what was he trying to gain from you?”

  I felt an odd prickling run up my arms at the tone in Alexander’s voice. I might never have heard it in any man’s voice before, but it was impossible to mistake the sound of protective anger…and I had to admit, there was a tiny, horrifying part of myself that actually rather liked hearing it from him.

  It wasn’t enough to make me lose my wits, though. The last thing that any of us needed tonight was any traditionally nonsensical male behavior mucking up our mission. I’d seen more than enough of that sort of thing with my brother Charles and his friends from university in earlier years.

  Clearly, the mood had to be lightened.

  “I wouldn’t bother calling him out for the insult, if I were you,” I said flippantly. Giving a trilling social laugh, I patted Alexander’s arm as firmly if he were one of Elissa’s children, needing to be calmed down by their Aunt Kat. “Really, that wouldn’t do at all.”

  My social laugh didn’t seem to have done the trick. Instead of relaxing, the muscles in Alexander’s arm tightened under my hand. There was a long, uncomfortable pause. When he finally replied, his voice was utterly flat. “Of course. I was forgetting my place.”

  “No! That is not what I said at all.” I gritted my teeth, cursing his pride to Yorkshire and back. “What I meant was that I got away perfectly well by myself, remember? It’s over and done with, and there’s no need to worry about it anymore. Besides, he’s not the only gentleman to have tried to talk me out here tonight. Unless you’re planning to call out Mr. Packenham, too—”

  “What?” Outrage vibrated in Alexander’s voice. “That drunken lecher Packenham tried to talk you out into the gardens? On your own?”

  “Who cares?” I demanded, throwing up my hands. “For heaven’s sake—do I look as if I said yes?”

  There was a moment of pulsating silence as the breeze rustled the branches of the tree above and around us…and we both absorbed exactly where I was, in fact, standing at that moment.

  “Well, I didn’t say yes to him,” I muttered. “Or to the Prince, either. So there’s nothing to be so shocked about, is there?”

  Alexander tipped his head forward and let out a helpless-sounding laugh. It ruffled my hair, warm and inexplicably soothing. “Good God, Kat, you’re a menace. I can’t believe you dragged me out here into the night after turning down two illicit invitations already this evening. If anyone saw us here together, they’d think I was as lecherous as Packenham.”

  “Well, we both know that isn’t true,” I said.

  Alexander didn’t answer.

  I waited…then raised my eyebrows as the silence extended itself. Finally, I asked, testing the words on my tongue: “Are you trying to tell me not to trust you?”

  It was too ridiculous to seriously contemplate.

  I might not be able to see his expression, but I heard the wince in his voice with perfect clarity. “No!” he muttered. “Don’t be stupid. I’d never dishonor you.”

  “Well, I thought not.” There was a tiny, inconsequential quiver of disappointment in my belly, but I did my best to ignore it. “So—”

  “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to,” he muttered.

  I went still, my own voice stopping in my throat.

  A ripple of warmth unfurled inside my belly and stretched like a cat all up and down my front. I took a deep breath, tasting the fresh scents of the sweet chestnut tree and the grass. The breeze through the branches brushed against my cheek and hair, like a whisper urging me: Go on.

  I looked up at Alexander, struggling to make out his face through the darkness. “You want to…dishonor me?”

  He groaned. “That’s not what I—that sounds terrible. Please.” He started to step backward. “Forget I said—”

  “No.” I grabbed his arm, stopping him before he could take another step away from me. “Just tell me what you really meant.”

  His arm was taut under my hand. For a moment, he didn’t answer. Then he whispered, “Do you really need to ask?”

  Well. No matter what he called himself, Alexander had always been a gentleman. But I had never, ever been truly ladylike inside, where it mattered. So the solution was only too obvious.

  I reached out through the darkness and found him.

  His shoulders were warm and strong against my hands. I could feel him breathing quickly, his chest rising and falling.

  I had to stand on tiptoes to reach him, but I pulled his head down toward me.

  At the last moment, he stilled, his breath brushing agonizingly close against my lips. “We shouldn’t,” he whispered.

  “Of course we should,” I whispered back. I put one hand against his cheek as if I could beam my conviction into him through our skin. “I’ve been waiting for five years, Alexander!”

  “Oh, Kat.” He let out a stifled laugh and tipped his forehead against mine. “Only you.”

  “Only you,” I said, and moved even closer, to where I fit, wrapping my arms around his neck exactly where they belonged. “Only you, Alexander.”

  We had both waited long enough.

  ***

  It was no wonder the gardens were so popular. Kissing was infinitely better than dancing. In fact, it felt just like magic had when I’d first discovered it—delicious and dizzying and ever-so-slightly out of control.

  If Alexander hadn’t finally stumbled back, drawing a deep, ragged breath, I might never have remembered to stop.

  “Supper,” he gasped.

  “Supper?” I stared at him, my hands still pressed against his chest. Every inch of me was busy soaking in his warmth and his reality, far better than any of my fantasies had ever been. “You’re hungry?”

  Then I shook myself as his words finally penetrated my kiss-drunk haze. “Oh. Supper!”

  We stared at each other through the darkness. “How long do you think it’s been?” I whispered.

  “Ah…” He shook his head, lifting one hand away from me to push against his forehead.

  I missed his hand. My waist felt cold without it.

  And then everything felt cold as it all hit me at once: supper…and the Marquess sitting at the table, waiting for me. Not to mention all of the other guests and, worst of all, my family.

  Just how long had we been gone, all in all?

  I swallowed hard. At least the Marquess knew—well, he believed, at any rate—that I’d left on business for the Order, so he wouldn’t be startled that I hadn’t returned. But as for my family, particularly Angeline…

  “We have to get back,” I said. “Quickly.”

  “Of course.” He pushed one hand through his hair. “Forgive me. I should never have—”

  “What?” I jerked away from him, my jaw dropping. “Don’t you dare ask me to forgive you for that,” I said. “How could you?”

  There was a moment of stunned silence. He took a step back.

  I fisted my hands at my sides and cursed the darkness. If he’d been able to see me, maybe my glare could have penetrated his idiotic male mind.

  “This was not a mistake,” I said through gritted teeth, “and you know it. So don’t you dare pretend that you regret it now!”

  “No?” His voice hardened, too, in response. “And will you still say that ten minutes from now if anyone realizes where we’ve been? When your reputation is ruined because of me?”

  “No one will have any idea that we were out here together,” I snapped. “Why would they? I can do a magic-working to make myself invisible on the way back inside, and so can you. My family may well wonder where I’ve been, but—”

  “And you won’t tell them the truth about it, will you?” His anger was a tangible force pressing against me. “Because you can’t.”

  I crossed my arms and closed my mouth tightly. I
wouldn’t answer that. I would not.

  “You may not want to admit it,” Alexander said, “but it’s true, isn’t it? Just tell me now, Kat, to my face: if I went to your father and told him I’ve loved you ever since that terrible, amazing night in Devon…” He took a deep breath, his voice shaking. “If I told him I’ve never met anyone like you…that you’re the most remarkable person I’ve ever known, and I would do anything to have you by my side every day for the rest of our lives, as my wife and my partner in every way…tell me, Kat: would he agree to our marriage?”

  My vision blurred as hot tears filled my eyes. My body began to shake in long, uncontrollable fits of trembling, as if his words had snapped some cord inside me. Every word he’d said was one I’d dreamed of hearing from him for the last five years, in my secret, unprotected self.

  But I’d never, ever dreamed of what would have to happen next. And I could not bring myself to say the words that honesty, practicality, and honor all demanded from me.

  I hadn’t thought about practicalities when I’d wrapped myself around him like a vine. I hadn’t thought of anything but him, and how we fit together. We always had, years before our lips had ever touched. From his pride to his magic to his fierce loyalty, and the raw vulnerability hidden underneath…I’d never met anyone who matched me so closely on the inside, where it mattered.

  But I knew exactly what my sisters would say. ‘Matching’ each other wouldn’t give us a yearly income, would it? And without an income to support us and any children we might one day have…

  If Alexander ever went to my father, I knew exactly what Papa would say…and not only because Stepmama, Angeline and Elissa would all agree with him.

  I couldn’t unwrap my arms from around my chest. They were the only things holding me together as every impossible dream inside me shattered.

  But I still couldn’t speak.

  After five years of waiting, I could not send him away.

  “It’s all right,” Alexander said at last. His voice sounded as weary as if he’d walked for miles in the last few minutes, as the burning silence had stretched on and on between us. “I always knew it couldn’t happen,” he said. “It was only an impossible dream. I knew better than to believe in it.”

  He started to turn away, and I finally found my voice.

  “I don’t care,” I whispered fiercely. “All of this—what we did tonight—it still wasn’t a mistake. You know it wasn’t.”

  “No, Kat,” Alexander said. “Perhaps for you, it wasn’t. But for me…” His voice dropped to a raw rasp. “I wish to God we’d never stepped into these gardens. Because now I’ll never be able to forget.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  I had never in my life felt so grateful to be a Guardian. With my invisibility magic-working in place, no one could see my return to the house. No one could see the tears sliding down my cheeks as I walked straight past the crowded supper room where I should have been sitting, or the way I doubled over when I finally reached the ladies’ retiring room, clutching my stomach as if I’d taken a mortal wound.

  I didn’t sob, though. I didn’t make a sound.

  Everything inside me felt too raw for that…raw and echoing and completely hollow.

  I didn’t even look around when the door of the retiring room opened and closed behind me. I was invisible, after all. Why should I bother?

  Then the woman who’d entered spoke.

  “Come, now, Kat,” my cousin Lucy said briskly. “I know that you’re in here, so you may as well show yourself. Where else would you be?”

  My invisibility shattered as I jerked around, losing hold of the magic-working in my surprise. Lucy was standing before the door, her arms crossed and her pretty, round face as serious as I’d ever seen it. Her eyes didn’t even widen as I became visible. She just gave a tiny nod of satisfaction.

  “How did you—?” I shook my head, wiping off the last of the tears from my face.

  She shrugged. “Well, I know you can make yourself invisible, don’t I? And I know where I always go to hide when something’s gone terribly wrong for me at a ball.”

  I couldn’t hold her clear blue gaze. Instead, I looked down at my hands, drawing a deep breath. “What’s gone wrong for you at balls?”

  “Oh, really.” I could hear the eye-roll in her voice. “What do you think? I’m loud and I’m plump and I don’t have an impressive dowry, and my great-aunts are eccentric, so I’m sure you can imagine what some people like to say about me, even when they know I’m listening. And moreover…” She sighed. “Well, he’s never come to any of the London balls that I was invited to before, but…you sat next to him at supper, didn’t you, until you ran away!”

  That made me look back up at her, frowning. “You mean…Lord Lanham?”

  I couldn’t imagine hiding in any retiring rooms to cry over the ever-so-proper Marquess of Lanham. But I couldn’t mistake the flash of intensity in Lucy’s eyes when I said his name.

  She covered it up quickly, though, with a rueful smile.

  “He’ll never notice me in that way,” she said matter-of-factly. “Well, why should he? He could marry anyone. He ought to marry the daughter of a viscount, at the very least, if he has any sense at all. But that doesn’t stop me from wishing sometimes.” She gave me a stern look. “So I know what that looks like on someone else.”

  I bit my lip, trying to pierce through the fog of my own misery to be the good friend she deserved. “He does notice you, you know.”

  “Oh, I know. I make certain of it. Isn’t he adorable when he’s outraged?” She gave a mischievous smile. “It isn’t kind of me, I know, but I do always try to bring it out in him.”

  “Mm.” I took a deep breath, gathering myself together. For the first time since I’d stepped into the room, I looked at my reflection in the mirror.

  Oh, no.

  At some point in that starlit time underneath the sweet chestnut tree, my hair had become completely disordered. It was falling out of my pins and around my face in a way that couldn’t be mistaken for anything but a disaster. And as for my face…

  I let out a groan of horror. There was no amount of cold water that could possibly disguise my red and swollen nose and eyelids.

  “It’s a good thing that you’re a witch, isn’t it?” said Lucy placidly. “I just have to look like that for the rest of the evening when it’s me. You can do something about it.”

  So I was the second witch that evening to sit in front of the mirror, repairing my face while Lucy rearranged my hair and kept up a soothing stream of commentary and suggestions. I didn’t change my eye color or my features, as Mrs. Montrose had, but the crisp, bright scent of fresh raspberries filled the air as I cast spell after spell to bring my own natural features back into order.

  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 any
thing 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.