by Sharon Shinn
Although—maybe I could.
Tentatively, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and rested my bare toes on the rug. I had never walked anywhere except at Elyssa’s direction—never stood unless she was on her feet. I didn’t know if my body would obey my own commands, didn’t know if I could generate the sense of balance that would keep me from falling over. Slowly, keeping one hand braced on the mattress as long as I could, I transferred my weight to my legs and rose to a standing position.
I teetered precariously as I gazed over at the window. How could I make my body cross the room? What commands could I send to my feet that would cause them to step daintily in that direction? I knew how to walk, but I had never exercised my own will to attain a destination of my choosing.
I took a step.
I took another one.
I didn’t fall, but it seemed that I might at any moment, so I remained close to the bed so I could collapse against it if my legs suddenly refused to move. My immediate goal was to make it to the wall so I could lean one hand against it for support. That objective achieved, I stood quietly for a moment, calming my jangled nerves and glancing round the room. Then I looked at the window again.
I only had to follow the wall for another ten yards, navigating around a chest of drawers and a couple of battered chairs, to reach it. I couldn’t remember a time when the heavy curtain had ever been pulled back, and I was suddenly consumed with a desire to discover what I might see on the other side of the glass. Elyssa’s rooms were set into a corner suite, and the windows in her sitting room looked out on a different view. But this view would be all mine.
I flattened my hand against the wall and moved forward with growing confidence. My body remembered all the mechanics of motion and seemed willing to follow my clear directives. I detoured carefully around the furniture and finally made it to my destination, where I peeled back the thick velvet fabric and peered outside.
It was a wonderland.
A full moon painted a silver patina over a landscape of hedges, lawns, and low buildings. I guessed that I was looking out toward the back of the manor, where I could see a small garden and a few buildings used to house tools or chickens, but the dramatic interplay of light and dark gave the view a magical, enchanted quality. And the sky! Remarkable! The moon was so low and heavy that it seemed unable to lift itself any higher overhead. Stars gathered in such bright clusters that I almost thought I could lift the sash and scoop them up in my bare hand. Nothing moved, not in the spangled heavens above, not in the brooding landscape below. Nothing in the entire vista was awake—was alive—except me, the echo standing at the window, staring out at the world as if it had just been created that very night, and just for her.
Elyssa did not, over the new few weeks, show any signs of losing interest in Lord Roland.
I was having fewer and fewer days when I was completely unaware, so I was beginning to get a better sense of time passing. And it was clear to me that she was taking every opportunity to spend time with the young nobleman.
They met, very properly, at the houses of friends for dinners or sedate parties. A few times he came calling at the house, and they sat demurely in her father’s drawing room and ate light refreshments and talked of inconsequential things while her aunt sat nearby, reading a book as she chaperoned their conversation. On days when the weather was fine, they were able to escape outdoors for an unescorted walk through the gardens. On those occasions, as soon as they were out of sight of the house, Elyssa practically pounced on Roland, drawing him under the boughs of a convenient tree and covering his face with kisses. Naturally, all their echoes engaged in similar embraces.
“I’ve missed you so much!” he exclaimed on one of those afternoons.
She laughed up at him. “You saw me last night!”
“At Marietta’s house! Across the table from you! We had only five minutes of private conversation.”
She rested her cheek against his chest. “I know. It’s so hard.”
“Are you going to Kendrick’s hunting party in two weeks?”
She lifted her head to gaze up at him again. “I hadn’t planned to. I abhor hunting. And Kendrick isn’t particularly fond of me.”
“But you were invited, weren’t you?”
“Of course.”
He began playing with the fingers of her left hand. “I’ll be there,” he said in a coaxing voice. “And so will nine or ten others. For five nights. All of us sleeping under the same roof. Surely there will be opportunities for …” He glanced around. “Something a little more intimate than this.”
As I stared up into the face of Roland’s echo, I could feel my eyes narrow and my mouth purse—just slightly—as Elyssa thought over what he had said. Clearly she was trying to decide how much she was willing to risk for this impetuous young man. But I could tell that some part of his proposal pleased her, for my heart was racing and I felt a smile begin to shape my lips.
“Roland,” she whispered. “You know I cannot give myself to you in a clandestine fashion.”
He squeezed his hand tightly over her fingers. “No,” he said quickly. “And I would not ask you to. But surely, at Kendrick’s hunting lodge, we would have opportunities for something a little more secluded than this.”
Now her lips were curving in a smile that was part mischief and part delight. “I’m sure we would,” she repeated. “Let me dig out that invitation and tell Kendrick I am happy to attend his party after all.”
Kendrick’s property was a wearisome daylong carriage ride away through acres of open farmland where some low, scrubby crop was just beginning to grow heavy and green. Trima, who rode in the carriage with us, spent the entire journey lecturing Elyssa on the proper behavior expected of a young lady, and Elyssa spent the whole time looking out the window.
The house, when we arrived, proved to be small and dingy, at least in comparison to Lord Bentam’s house and the homes of the rest of Elyssa’s friends. It was a squarish shape built of dark, shaggy wood; it was two stories tall, though both levels appeared somewhat flattened. There was no welcoming courtyard and very little space for pulling up the carriage. Trima said, “I suppose this is what a hunting lodge looks like.”
Elyssa was already gathering up her cloak and gloves and reaching for the door. “One doesn’t come for the amenities, Trima, dear,” she said with a smile. “One comes for the sport.”
It was soon clear that the lodge was not only small, it was poorly staffed and badly managed. Our party was shown to a moderately sized bedroom clearly not designed for nobles with echoes—there was one decent bed taking up most of the space, and one large but lumpy pallet made up on the floor.
“Are all three of the echoes to sleep there?” Trima demanded, her voice scandalized.
Elyssa shrugged. “They won’t even notice.”
“I don’t care about their comfort, I care about your consequence.”
Elyssa was grinning with an edge of malice. “You might more profitably worry about your own consequence. I’m guessing you’ll be crammed into a tiny room with three other maids, and probably sharing a bed with one of them.”
Trima stiffened and her face took on a wintry look. “I’ve slept worse,” she said, “but not since I joined your father’s staff.”
Elyssa was wandering around the room, touching chair backs and windowsills. “I don’t think it’s been dusted in days,” she remarked. “Do you think the linens are clean?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Trima said. “I brought our own.”
“Aren’t you foresighted! It never would have occurred to me.” Now Elyssa poked a toe into the cold hearth. “Do you suppose someone will come to build me a fire?”
“How many people are expected at this party?”
“I don’t know—ten or twelve, I think.”
“I saw one serving girl and one footman when we entered, and I have to suppose there’s a cook and a housekeeper somewhere. If there are only four servants in the house—”
&nbs
p; Elyssa couldn’t hold back a laugh that sounded more appalled than amused. “Do you think we’ll have to build our own fires? Carry our own bathwater?”
Trima surveyed her. “Do you know how to make a fire?”
“I was hoping you did.”
Now Trima’s glance dropped to the fireplace. “I can if there’s coal.”
“This grows more delightful by the minute!”
“We can always leave.”
Elyssa turned to gaze out the window, and whatever she saw softened her expression. I wondered if Lord Roland had just ridden into view. “No, not yet,” she said. “We may enjoy ourselves more than we expect.”
CHAPTER THREE
It was hardly surprising that dinner at the hunting lodge was a scrambling affair. The dining room was set up sloppily and no one seemed sure where to sit. Normally, from what I’d observed, high nobles went to elaborate lengths to arrange dining rooms so that originals sat at elegant tables in the middle of the room and their echoes sat behind them at much less fancy boards.
But Kendrick, apparently, hadn’t expected quite so many nobles, or echoes, to be in attendance. He and his eight guests crowded around a rectangular table meant to seat about half that many while the echoes took their places at a thrown-together collection of small tables, nightstands, and one scarred old desk. There weren’t enough servants to make sure echoes received their food when the nobles did, and the nobles weren’t inclined to wait, with the result that half the echoes were pantomiming the act of eating even though their hands were empty and no dishes sat before them. As a consequence, I was sure all the echoes would be half starved before the visit was over.
From the cramped dining hall, the whole party moved to an only slightly more spacious drawing room where, again, there was insufficient space for the echoes. Ignoring the difficulties, the nobles pulled chairs and sofas close together in the middle of the room and proceeded to engage in raucous conversation. The echoes squeezed themselves together on rustic benches, or tried to sit on top of each other in nearby chairs. One chaise lounge splintered under the combined weight of four echoes, who went crashing to the floor in a spray of wood and flying hair. The nobles laughed so hard that it seemed they might fall out of their own seats. The echoes all appeared to be laughing in their soundless way, but I wondered if any of them, like me, felt sadness and impotent anger.
Elyssa and Roland had managed to ensconce themselves on a love seat so narrow that their shoulders and thighs couldn’t help but touch. Consequently, all six of their echoes were crammed together on a wooden bench made to hold four. Because we were out in public, Elyssa was synchronizing our actions to hers, so I had almost no independent control of my actions. What little volition I could muster I spent squirming to find a more comfortable position. It was a very long evening.
When we finally returned to Elyssa’s room, it was clear it would be a very long night. Trima was already there and had obviously been busy: The bed was freshly made, there was a fire in the grate and water in assorted pitchers, and all our bedclothes were laid out. Including Trima’s own.
“I’m sleeping in that chair tonight,” the maid said when Elyssa expressed surprise.
“What, the servants’ accommodations are more primitive than you can tolerate?”
Trima gave her a long, measuring look. “Exactly.”
Elyssa laughed, genuinely amused. “No! You’re afraid I’ll sneak out in the middle of the night and head to Roland’s room!”
“It’s my duty to take care of you,” was Trima’s reply.
Elyssa laughed again and gestured toward the hallway. “Haven’t you heard? Kendrick has overbooked his guests. Roland is sharing a room with Cali’s brother. Even I am not so debauched that I would want to take a tumble with a man while his roommate snored in the next bed.”
“Maybe not,” Trima said. “But maybe he would be the one to go roaming.”
“Maybe, but this place is so small someone would be bound to see him and ask what he’s up to,” Elyssa said. “I don’t think a midnight assignation is in my future.”
“Good,” Trima said, but she did not offer to return to the room she had been assigned, wherever it was.
So the five of us slept together in the single chamber. It was the least restful night of my life—or whatever portion of my life I could recall. The pallet did nothing to disguise the hardness of the floor, and I was not used to having my fellow echoes lying so close to me that their limbs practically entangled with mine. Trima could not seem to get comfortable in the plush armchair; she sighed and tossed all night. By contrast, Elyssa fell asleep right away and woke in the morning appearing beautiful and pleased with herself.
“Look—sunshine,” she said, even before she climbed out of bed. She stretched her arms over her head. “I’m certain this will be a lovely day.”
Most of Kendrick’s guests—and Kendrick himself—kept to their rooms until the noon hour, at which time they regrouped in the cramped dining hall to partake of a meal before turning their attention to the activity for which they had ostensibly gathered.
It turned out there was a fifth servant on the premises—a groom or groundskeeper or someone of that sort. As the guests finished eating, he showed up with a pack of dogs at his heels and asked how many planned to go on the hunt. It turned out that most of the men in the party had ridden there on their own horses, and the estate could offer four additional ones to those who had arrived in carriages.
“How silly of me not to bring my own mounts!” Elyssa exclaimed, as if just then realizing what an omission she’d made. “Because my echoes and I would take all of your horses.” She gestured at two of the other female guests, each of whom could boast only one echo apiece. “You two go instead. I might take a carriage back to that charming little town we passed on the way in.”
Roland turned to a chubby young lord who was wearing an expression dangerously close to a pout. I guessed that this particular nobleman had expected his host to provide horses and now realized that he was going to miss the outing. “I’ll be happy to let you take my mounts for the day,” Roland said. “Spent half the night coughing, and I’d rather head back to bed for a couple of hours. Maybe I’ll be up for it tomorrow.”
That neatly took care of everyone, I realized, since the only other woman in the party was the sporting type who announced that she had brought six of her own horses so she and her two echoes could have fresh mounts every other day. I supposed the stables must have been roomier than the house, and probably better run.
It took some time for the hunting party to organize itself, but it was rather an impressive sight: seven nobles and nearly a dozen echoes all on horseback, attended by a handful of grooms, and at least eight yapping dogs. Roland headed back to his room, but Elyssa stayed to watch them off, waving cheerfully and wishing them luck. Eventually they all moved off in one noisy, untidy clump. I found it hard to believe that they could be disciplined enough to flush out any game.
Once we stepped back into the suddenly quiet house, Elyssa seemed to be at a loss. She glanced at the stairwell leading to the second-story guest rooms, but seemed to decide it would be too bold to march upstairs and start knocking on doors. Instead, she explored the bottom level, flitting through the drawing room and down a narrow hallway that had a single door opening off to each side. One room was hardly bigger than a closet and held odds and ends—broken chairs, a tall mirror leaning against a wall, a narrow bookshelf empty of books. The other was a very small version of the library her father maintained back home. It was so musty and full of dust that I had to guess Kendrick had never set foot inside the room since the day he had acquired the property.
There was nothing else to see on the ground floor except the dining hall, the drawing room, the narrow foyer, and the door leading to the kitchens and the servants’ quarters. Once Elyssa had completed her tour, she returned to the drawing room and simply stood there, lost in thought. I could hardly remember a time I’d seen her so still.
“Have the hunters ridden off?” he asked in a loud whisper.
Elyssa smiled at him through the door. “They have! They all looked quite dashing, too, though I don’t have high hopes of them catching any game.”
Roland finished his descent and joined us in the drawing room. “No—no one ever does at these parties. Though, the meal was so sparse last night that I find myself hoping they chase down a deer just so we can add it to the menu.”
Elyssa seemed amused. “I don’t think any of us will starve in a few short days.”
He smiled down at her, catching her hands in his. One of his echoes gave me the same besotted look—although it was far less convincing on the echo—and similarly took hold of me. “I could starve,” Roland said. “If I don’t get more time alone with you.”
Elyssa drew their linked hands up to nestle against her heart—which, of course, meant they grazed the top of her bosom. I felt the echo’s fingers working within mine, as if he was trying to brush the tips over the smooth expanse of bare skin. “Well, I think we quite cleverly managed to ensure ourselves a tiny bit of privacy,” she said. “What do you think—a couple of hours before any of them come riding back? Unless someone falls off his horse, I suppose.”
Now Roland lifted Elyssa’s hands so he could kiss one set of her knuckles, then the other. I didn’t know about Roland’s mouth, but his echo’s was slack and moist against my skin. Not a particularly enjoyable sensation.