by P. S. Power
So, point to him? Was that a thing here? Social points like that? Well, if not, she could start it.
"Gwen? I wasn't expecting you. Is there trouble? The Vernors?" He was asking if they'd finally come to their senses and tossed her out. It was a reasonable thought, if you didn't realize that they were actually good people.
"They're doing well, except for the fact that as time goes on things seem to be getting worse for them, socially, rather than better. I was actually hoping I could talk to you about that?" She waited and only got a curious look in exchange. Four months before he would have asked what she wanted, and seemed hesitant to make a promise. Now he simply seemed relaxed and ready to say no, regardless of what she said.
That was how it seemed at least.
"Really, what I'm doing here is, how did Bethany put it? We're here on a matter of honor, and it really doesn't have much to do with you in a negative manner at this time. If that changes, I promise to tell you, but we actually came to talk to Lisa Wendell, or at least Beth did. That's the real reason we're here. For my part, I was wondering if I might be allowed to send you a party invitation? I don't want you to feel awkward or anything. There will be other Dukes there for you to play with though. We're inviting Ferdinand and the Marduk too, I think. Plus a bunch of Westmorlands that can rift. It's important to show people that we're not afraid of them. Especially now." They hadn't destroyed the Capital, but try and tell that to the average man on the street. Or worse a Newsie hidden in their studio, safe from accountability for their words.
She expected a simple no, or perhaps for the man to make polite excuse, or even just to say that he was feeling too uncomfortable to do any such thing. It fit his face at the moment, until he broke into a familiar grin.
"As your date? That would be nice, I think. Unless you already have someone lined up?" He seemed interested, but she shook her head.
"Not really, I was going to ask Mr. Grimes, our family Solicitor, but haven't yet. He's very nice." She meant it, but his face fell, even if she thought that her words had been pretty clear that she was still free for the thing.
"I see. Is he a handsome man then? Wealthy? Though I gather that wouldn't sway you at all, would it? Humorous perhaps?" His look was getting almost comically hangdog.
Gwen nodded anyway. After all, as far as she could tell most of that was just true. The humor part was subjective of course.
"Very dashing, and gallant too. Also about fifty, or a little older. Actually, I think you'd like him, if you met. He's very honest and willing to actually explain things to me. Really, I should probably date him just for that, or at least make certain we have him over for tea more regularly. But I haven't asked, and you seem to be hinting that an invitation wouldn't simply be burnt to get rid of the cooties?" She paused, ready to explain the concept, but he smiled back at her.
"Ah, you've learned of the dreaded cootie. They're said to positively infest young girls I hear. You seem old enough for them to have died down by now however. I'd check you for them, but that wouldn't be proper." He didn't move, and his expression didn't change at all.
She felt her face go warm and realized it was probably a blush.
"If we weren't going to be interrupted at any time, I might invite you to check anyway, improper or not. I don't want to be walking around with them and not know it, after all." Shaking her head she moved closer to him, by about three steps. They weren't in touching distance at all, until he took a step toward her as well. There was meaning in it, but she didn't really know what, until he held out his hand to her.
"I treated you unfairly, Gwen. I thought, after that horror with my father... I figured that it would be easier on you to not see me again. You came to the funeral, out of duty, and I failed to protect you there as well. It was you and your Westmorland friends that had to protect us. For a time I'd even wondered if Doctor Debussey had used her power to make me do those things. I guess she felt I was worth more to her as a living pawn than dead, however. On the good side, my stutter has stayed away. Hopefully for good." Then, letting go of her hand he stood back and looked away. It was an awkward thing, and made her feel uncomfortable.
Too much so for a simple conversation, but not like an attack at all.
"I've been thinking though. You're from a different world, and certain allowances will need to be made for that, since I don't know your ways, and I'm not all that magically inclined, which is a large failing here, but if you can see past that, if the memory of my father passing in your arms isn't too much to bear, could, I know that I'm about to look the fool, but-" Then he stopped, since Beth walked into the room, with Lisa in tow. The woman was about twenty-five or six, so about Beth's age, but there the similarity ended.
She had what a compassionate person would call a sturdy build. It wasn't fat, but she looked like she could at least try out for a major league football team. She was short too, which wasn't that bad, being slightly over five feet tall, but her face was simply unpleasant. Not ugly, really, but she had a frown on it and seemed ready to fight for her man right then and there.
It was a shame, because she was almost certain that Christophe had been about to ask if they could date or something. Be friends at least. That made sense to her at any rate, given the buildup.
He had something different in mind however and asked anyway, in front of the new witnesses.
"I was wondering if we could, kind of forget that I undid our arrangement? Will you marry me, Gwen Farris?"
She'd been asked before, and the answer as far as she was concerned was the same. After all, it had never really seemed real to her, but she wasn't going to miss the chance to even play at it. Her entire life she'd known that no one would ever love her. No man would want to be with her, much less marry.
After a second she smiled and let herself nod a bit.
"Yes. But we still need to get to know each other better. I mean, what if you find out that I'm a horrible person in two months? You'll be glad you took the time then, won't you?" The words flowed a lot more smoothly than she thought they would, and she realized it was that thing again, attached to her precognition somehow. The pressure was there at least.
That explained why, even though she didn't see Lisa running at her, she was able to simply take a few steps to the side, letting the woman pass through her old position in her rage. The angry lady didn't fall down, and turned, ready to do it again.
"Stop!" This came from Beth, who looked at the now red faced woman calmly for all that she'd just been shouting.
It worked too, and everyone stopped where they were, except the guards that ran into the room who moved to grab people. They tried for everyone but Chris, who was standing there, fighting to look old and wise, instead of in mild shock. Gwen however just let the two men take her arms, not worried about being hurt in particular. If she had to, she could probably fight their way out of the room, even in a dress. People here, even the guards, didn't handle hand to hand that well. Plus, she could fire off decently powerful energy blasts and no one else had a weapon out.
Lisa struggled, but didn't get away at all, and broke down in tears.
For some reason everyone turned and looked at the young Duke, as if he'd know what to do about all of this. It was the job, but not really fair, given everything.
Gwen just looked at him and started to spout nice sounding BS.
"It's that matter of honor that I mentioned a bit ago. A thing that involved Bethany, Lisa and I. Lisa was just informed, and may feel that she has a right to beat me for it. Or at least try to. It isn't a big deal. We can forget about it." To her mind it was settled, and Bethany nodded, speaking softly.
"That will suit, I think. Given everything, perhaps Miss Wendell will be more comfortable out of your presence, Gwen?" It made it sound like she'd actually wronged the woman, but, hadn't she, in a real way? If Lisa really loved Christophe, then Gwen coming back and him asking if they might restart the engagement... That was a pretty big deal.
They weren't rough abo
ut it, but the guards took the woman out, bodily, one of them daring to pick her up, ignoring her feeble and untrained kicks. As she was nearly out of sight, she screamed, but it had words and wasn't in pain.
"I hope you die. As soon as possible!"
There was a tickle of magic that came with the words. More than a little bit, in fact. It hit rather like a slap, and Gwen had to wonder at the force of it.
Chapter four
Bethany Westmorland, Detective, Special Service Operative, and in her own way, humanitarian, hit Lisa Wendell in the side of the head with every bit of strength her body could manage. Against a man the move would have rocked a person. Given the size differences here, it took the blocky woman to her knees, even with two large people holding her up.
"You cursed her? A death curse at that? You stupid little twit! Hold her. We're going to have to get the local constabulary involved, I'm afraid. We tried very hard to avoid that for you, Lisa, but now you've left us no choice." The men actually moved in on the women, though they looked scared, rather than manly or stoic.
Even Christophe seemed terrified. He went directly to Gwen and proper or not, put his hand on her arm, very gently.
"A death curse? I... Under my roof too. Yes, Clemens, lock Miss Wendell in her room. See that she has nothing with which to harm herself with. We can't let this get any worse than it already is. Gwen, you'll stay here, of course. I'll call in the best experts in the field. Don't worry, we won't let this harm you. The very top people will be here within the day, and-" He stopped as Bethany shook her head lightly. It was very deferential, since the man was a Duke, and she was conditioned not to challenge him too much, but Christophe was actually smart enough to realize it meant more than her dismay.
"Miss Westmorland? Do you have an idea that will work better?"
She let her mouth go tight and then nodded.
"Yes. Much better, actually. It won't be fun for Gwen, but the truth of the matter is that the very best person in the world at breaking curses like this happens to be a Westmorland. Not that we need to bother her. Lisa just isn't that strong. We have protocols for this. Don't let it worry you, by morning we'll both be on our way to our next destination, and there won't be any harm done at all." She didn't seem happy about it, and that meant she was serious when she said they had protocols. That was pretty much Westmorland code for torture Gwen until she can't be cursed, didn't it?
She made a face, but tried for a wry look. She'd been practicing that one in the mirror too. It was one of her better ones, but there hadn't been a lot of chance to use it yet. This seemed like the perfect time.
"Well, that should be fun. We'd best get to it then, before I lose my nerve. Anyway, Chris, let's actually stay in touch? I'm working for the next bit, and that could be for months, but I'll see you at the party, if possible? If not, you should definitely go anyway. We'll set up my new helper to handle the Teletransport on that. Peter Westmorland. You'll like him. He's twelve." She added that last bit so she wouldn't have to go over the whole thing about it just yet.
For once someone just nodded, as if a male being anywhere near a female wasn't a huge and vast crime just waiting to happen.
"Peter Westmorland. Very good, I'll remember the name. I'll be in touch with central for that then and let them know. I can do that now, since the promotion." He could have seemed a lot sadder about taking his father's place, and he still had a black band on his left arm, but the truth was, the old Count had been a pain in the ass and had always looked down on his son and heir, because he wasn't magical enough. Over the years that had to wear away any real family feeling that a child was supposed to have for a parent, Gwen supposed. She didn't really know, but was her own situation all that different? The Farris's had turned out not to be her real parents at all, just some people paid a lot of money to watch the deformed and crippled girl like they were. They'd never mentioned anything about her not being theirs, but they'd pulled back, after a while.
Probably about the time the money had run out.
As it stood, she doubted that anyone in her old world would have even found her body yet. She didn't go outside very often and owned her little house. The power would be off, but there was no landlord to come and see why she hadn't paid her rent. Her "parents" might send a card, twice a year or so, but they didn't call very often, and she was known for dodging calls. It could be years before anyone figured it all out.
Even then, it would probably just look like she'd gone to sleep one night and her deformities had finally killed her. Maybe it was for the best? She'd lived her life largely alone, and died that way. Now she had a new life, and even prospects that were sort of amazing.
Like learning to break curses.
That should be fun. She was lying to herself, actually, and fighting a physical convulsion, just from imagining the pain that was coming. It took a lot to force a smile, but she did it gamely enough, and touched Christophe on the arm. It was enough that he flushed a bit. People here took a lot of things that were pretty innocent as being flirtatious.
Then, the man had just asked her to marry him. It seemed about right to her.
"We need to go. I'll try to stay in touch, like I said."
"I, as well. Until we meet again, Miss Farris?"
"Until then."
It was very formal, but she thought she got it about right. She hoped so anyway. This was her first on and off again relationship, after all. The news that he'd actually broken up with her because he thought she wouldn't want to see him was interesting, but overall, she'd never held any hard feelings at all toward him. It still might not work out, but it was worth trying. Provided this death curse thing didn't kill her.
Beth had seemed pretty confident though, so Gwen tried not to think about it and to just keep walking beside the woman, after saying her goodbyes. Once they got to the lawn she pressed the top of her Teletransport sphere and walked forward again, with her friend simply being there about ten seconds later.
They walked into Park Street without knocking, since they lived there, and Beth sighed at her, with a very odd look on her face.
"I should have seen that one coming. It makes perfect sense, really. Duke Aubry is a little low on the marriage scale, but a Duke, none the less. For your part you're the woman from another world, which really does mean that most people will have to give you much greater allowance than they would anyone else. It's a good match that way. I'm sure that Ethyl will be most pleased to hear about it. It might even take the sting out of the whole death curse. That silly little monster, cursing a person like that in anger. She could get the death penalty for that, even if you don't die." The tone was far too casual and without worry for Beth to think that last bit was the plan. A little hesitant, maybe?
Gwen nodded.
It was probably the truth, all the way around. It was a good thing. She nearly blushed again, but thought she managed to prevent that. Katherine's looks were fair, so it really showed when that happened.
"Great idea, telling everyone, well, let's do that first then? Then recharge the crystal packs in the spheres and all that? I'm betting that I won't really feel like doing it in the morning." Not that she knew that, but her friend seemed to agree. It wasn't a great sign.
"I need to connect with Central and have some people brought in. We do need to get to this in the next few hours, I'm afraid. On the good side you should only need to do this once, and you can rest on the first train in the morning. It isn't like we won't have days of travel to get things done."
She walked away, not even looking back, and worse, smiling. Hopefully over the engagement. Gwen walked around for a while before finding anyone, since the place was just that large, and the woman she found, a thirty-odd year old serving maid that she recognized, but didn't know by name, pointed toward the back of the mansion.
"Mrs. Vernor is back in the master office. Is there anything else ma'am?" She seemed a bit eager to get back to her work, which seemed to be dusting at the moment. There was no harm in taking p
ride in what you did though, so Gwen nodded.
"Just, I know that I've been around for a while, but I'm a bit shy, believe it or not. I don't know your name, and have been too embarrassed to ask."
"Oh? I'm Andrea, ma'am." She looked down, as if expecting to be punished for having a name or something.
"Gwen. Well, good. That's one name down and only about eighty to go. I'll see you around, I guess." The words felt really awkward, and the woman in front of her, seemed to feel she was being put on the spot, so Gwen walked out, careful not to say anything stupid, like goodbye. She hadn't realized that people could curse others on purpose like that. From the reactions of the others that had been there, it seemed to be about the same as pulling a knife and slashing away would have been.
Important, and very serious, but not at the level of say, body theft. That was one of their most feared crimes here.
Mrs. Vernor and her husband were both sitting in his office, looking worried and tense when Gwen found them. For them. It showed around the mouth and in the set of the shoulders mainly. It was a dark thing, and when they both looked up at her, neither smiled.
Gwen did. Then she waved her left hand a bit.
"That thing with the letter is all cleared up. Christophe's secretary seems to have a crush on him and heard him mention something about thinking that breaking up with me might have been a mistake. She reacted rather harshly to that news. Beth and I have that in hand." She waited a beat, to see if that would get either of the others to relax a bit, and it did. In fact there was a light chuckle from both of them, which sounded identically relieved.
Robert spoke first, explaining.
"Excellent. A secretary can be gently reminded of her place and things set to right without much trouble. It would have been a lot harder if the threat of a dark letter had come from a Duke. Did you see the man at all? If so, I take it that his part on this is in the best interest of social grace?" He'd shifted into some secret code that she didn't understand at all. She wasn't even going to try and guess really.