Lord Matlock waved to Richard who handed him the polished wooden box about the size of a chess set. He set it on his lap and restedhis palms on it briefly before holding it out to Eversleigh. “This is yours now.”
Eversleigh, his brows furled, took the box and opened it. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “My lord, this is your chain of office.” His voice was low.
“No, it is your chain of office now,” said Lord Matlock testily. “I wrote my letter of resignation last night, appointing you the Acting Master of the Collegium until next winter’s meeting.”
“But –”
“Stop it. I failed to see that my own brother-in-law was a sorcerer. I cannot lead the Collegium with the inevitable questions that will be asked. It must be you or Debenham, and Debenham is in Ireland. Do not waste my energy with arguments.”
Richard said gently, “He is right, you know.”
Slowly Eversleigh closed the lid of the box. “I will do my best to live up to your trust. I only wish the circumstances could be different.”
Lord Matlock said gruffly, “You said you had business with me. What is it?”
Eversleigh’s cheeks colored. “It is more a matter of a confession I must make. Lady Frederica and Colonel Fitzwilliam are now aware of this matter, and I do not wish to put them in a position where they must choose between keeping a secret from you or betraying my confidence.” He took a deep breath. “I am half fay.”
The older man’s jaw dropped. “Good God. You never told me.”
“I have preferred not to reveal this particular blot on my escutcheon, as it were. As we have more contact with Faerie, it will become difficult to disguise. Darcy, might I ask you to do the honors of explaining my situation? It is difficult to say it myself without sounding infernally conceited.”
Darcy nodded. “He is a prince of Faerie. Oberon begot him on his mother after her marriage. Eversleigh is well known in the Faeriecourt.”
“I think...” Lord Matlock seemed to look off in the distance. “I think I would like some port, even if it is still breakfast time.”
“Right away, sir.” Richard strode to the sideboard.
“There is nothing like a good glass of port when life becomes too interesting.” Lord Matlock’s shoulders sagged in an uncharacteristic look of defeat.
He had only begun to sip his port when the butler entered and bowed. “Colonel Fitzwilliam, there is a gentleman come to call on you, but he has no calling cards. He says he is Lord Eversleigh’s brother.”
Richard chuckled. “No calling cards indeed! Do bring him in.”
Lord Matlock narrowed his eyes. “You have no brother, Eversleigh.”
“No mortal brother. This is my Sidhe brother.”
Lord Matlock’s face lit up. “A Sidhe? Here?”
Aelfric strode in, the illusion of humanity already dissolving to reveal his true features. With Sidhe abruptness, he asked Richard eagerly, “Are you ready to visit the breeder?”
Richard slapped his forehead. “I had forgotten about that! So much has happened.”
Aelfric looked crestfallen. “Perhaps another time,” he muttered.
“Aelfric, a moment,” said Eversleigh with quiet command. “We have been dealing with a crisis which has distracted us from other plans, but I believe today would still be a good day for the colonel to take you to the breeder.”
Richard shook his head. “I must remain here while my father does his investigation.”
“Your father will not be investigating anything.” Eversleigh put one hand atop the box containing his new chain of office. “The investigation is in my hands. I will be asking your father to place bindings on the books of sorcery since no one can do it better than he. However, Icannot imagine you wish to spend any more time in Sir Lewis’s study.”
“No, but –”
“Your presence here will only create more worries,” said Eversleigh pointedly. “Take Aelfric to meet your breeder. But first, brother, might I impose on you to spend a few minutes with my friend, Lord Matlock? He has a great interest in Faerie. Lord Matlock, may I present Prince Aelfric? He is the youngest son of the king of Faerie, and I will warn you not to raise the subject of horses or he will never speak of anything else.”
Some message seemed to pass between Eversleigh and Aelfric, for the Sidhe seemed suddenly to relax and put on public manners. “Of course.”
Lord Matlock struggled to his feet and bowed. “Your Highness, it is a pleasure.”
