He stopped then, and she nearly ran into him. He turned. “I don’t need help from you.” His voice was still calm, his servants’ mask still perfect, but every word was full of venom.
Aoife took a step away. “I’m sorry. I only wanted to help.”
James turned and walked away again. This time, Aoife didn’t follow.
She slipped into the dinning room with a polite smile.
By the time dessert was served, Aoife could barely stomach a mouthful. It was too rich, too sweet, and she’d already eaten more than she ever had in one sitting.
“Come,” Halverton said once the last dish had been cleared. “There are things you must learn.”
He offered his arm. She took it because refusing wasn’t an option.
He walked her through to what he called the drawing room, though she couldn’t see any drawing implements anywhere.
The room was grand in a muted way. Gilded-framed landscapes hung on the walls: Eldrossi estates, foreign rivers and mountains, but nothing of Inis Morra. No trace of the land around them reflected back.
Kit, the footman, and Mrs Harrow were already in the room, standing in the corners like pieces of furniture. Aoife couldn’t imagine why they were there.
Halverton gestured for her to take a seat in the armchair by the fire and sat down opposite her.
“If you are to appear by my side, we must fix the way you speak.”
“What’s wrong with the way I speak?”
“You sound like a Morran commoner.”
I am a Morran commoner; she thought, but did not say.
“You must learn to speak like a lady, or no one will ever believe you are one.”
She couldn’t at present imagine who she could need to convince. There wasn’t a soul for miles who didn’t already know who she was and that she was not a lady.
He walked her through the pronunciation of certain Eldrossi words, correcting her on every second syllable.
“No. Rounder vowels. Softer consonants. Again.”
She tried. He frowned.
“Your people speak too quickly,” he said. “It makes the words incomprehensible.”
Aoife inhaled sharply but repeated the phrase, slower this time.
“Better,” he said, though his tone suggested otherwise.
He gestured, and Mrs Harrow stepped forward, silent as a shadow.
“Mrs Harrow will continue your instruction from here.”
Aoife was handed into Mrs Harrow’s care like another chore.
“I shall be in my study,” he told Mrs Harrow. “Please tell Alton I will go up in an hour.”
Mrs Harrow curtsied, and he left the room.
Aoife sagged in her chair as Mrs Harrow asked Kit to take the message, and he left the room.
“Straight back, miss,” Mrs Harrow instructed as soon as he was gone.
