And then you slipped past Orrit’s worktable and drew something in the flour with your fingertip—quickly, the way we always do when he isn’t looking—and carried on as though nothing had happened.
She smiled to herself. She could not remember whether she or Kazrian had started it, only that they had been young enough to find it hilarious, sneaking up to Orrit’s freshly floured worktable to draw faces, stars, wobbly little portraits of the brownie himself, then fleeing to the pantry with their hands over their mouths while his outraged scolding echoed through the kitchen.
In time, they had felt too guilty to keep tormenting him. They loved his scones, after all. So the drawings had simplified, gradually, into a single small heart—a quiet message of appreciation for his work. Orrit still pretended to be cross when he found one, but Lucie had caught him smiling on more than one occasion when he thought no one was watching.
Without quite deciding to, she reached out and drew a small heart near the edge of the confectioner’s sugar with her forefinger. Then she picked up the rolling pin and got back to work.
ChapterEleven
Kazrian had replayedthe moment more times than was reasonable. Not the part where a half ton of oven dropped toward his head—that part had been brief and entirely his own fault.Concentrate properly next time.No, the part that would not leave him was Lucie on her knees on the floor, bending with her hand at her throat and his name torn out of her as though the world were ending.
Kazrian—answer me?—
He turned it over as he crossed the street toward The Charmed Leaf, the way he might turn over a mechanism that refused to behave, and arrived, each time, at the same two conclusions in the same maddening order.
First, that she had sounded, for the space of a breath, as though something terrible happening to him would have unmade her. And second, that Lucie Fields was a kind and decent person who would have made precisely that sound for anyone pinned beneath a falling oven. She would hardly have peered into the dark and said,Ah, only a casual acquaintance, then; do let me know if you manage to free yourself. I shall be at the worktable.
So it meant nothing. He was attempting to read signals again, the one occupation at which he had proven himself spectacularly unreliable, and it was a very good thing the work was all but finished. One stubborn doorremained, and he was confident it would yield today. Then there would be no reason to be in Lucie’s kitchen at all.
He adjusted the portfolio beneath his arm and drew his watch from his waistcoat pocket. He turned it once in his fingers without opening it, then slid it back.
His grandmother expected him at The Charmed Leaf this morning for an update on The Honeycomb, a meeting that could have taken place at The Honeycomb itself, had Lady Rivenna Rowanwood ever been the sort of person to confine herself to her own affairs. She was not. Kazrian was beginning to suspect that she ‘looked in on’ The Charmed Leaf with such regularity that she may as well never have handed it over at?—
“Lord Rowanwood!”
Kazrian looked up in time to avoid walking directly into two young ladies who had appeared on the pavement before him, both smiling with an enthusiasm that struck him as slightly alarming.
“Lord Rowanwood, forgive us!” the taller of them said. “We did not mean to startle you. It is only—we recognized you, and we could not pass without—” She gathered herself with a small bright laugh. “Lady Calantha Ellerby. And my cousin, Lady Thelmina Ellerby.”
The Ellerbys. Kazrian had a faint impression he ought to know the name. He filed it away to think about later and bowed. “Lady Calantha. Lady Thelmina. A pleasure.”
They both curtseyed before Lady Calantha continued. “We arrived only yesterday. And we thought—well, the tea house. We have always so wished to experience The Charmed Leaf before the crush of the Season, when one can scarcely find a seat. And we had heard, too, that you yourself recently—” She broke off, then rushed to add, “That is, that a great many notable persons have come to Bloomhaven early this year. It seems to be quite the fashion.”
“Indeed?” Kazrian said, a small frown tugging at his brow. “I had not noticed.” He glanced back at the tea house. “I am afraid the tea house does not open until after midday. But I am certain Lady Iris would be most pleased to welcome you this afternoon.”
“Midday,” Lady Calantha said. “How vexing. We shall simply have to find a way to occupy ourselves until then. Are we not at a loss, Thelmina?”
“Quite at a loss,” Lady Thelmina agreed.
There was a small silence in which Kazrian was apparently expected to produce a solution to this difficulty. “There is, ah, Elderbloom Park?” he suggested. “It is rather lovely in the morning.”
“Oh, the park!” Lady Calantha said, as though this were the most excellent idea she’d ever heard. “Yes, how perfect. Thelmina and I are very fond of a morning walk. Oh!” she added, her expression brightening. “Would you care to join us, Lord Rowanwood?”
“Alas, I am due elsewhere this morning. But I am certain you shall find it most pleasant. If you will?—”
“Are you in Bloomhaven for long, my lord?” Lady Thelmina asked. “I understand you have been abroad. The Shaded Lands, was it not?”
“Oh, ah, yes,” Kazrian said. “I am here for a few weeks, working on a … a project for my grandmother.” He tightened his arm around the portfolio, aware that he was now several minutes behind schedule and that his grandmother was not the sort of person one kept waiting. “If you will excuse me, I ought to?—”
“A project! How fascinating. I heard you had manifested an ability relating to lumyrite, like your brothers. Something to do with … mending?” Lady Calantha leaned forward with an expression of rapt interest. “I should so love to hear about it.”
Kazrian opened his mouth, then closed it. He could not recall the last time anyone had been so excited to learn about lumyrite repair. “That is very kind. It is, in truth, largely a matter of sensing fractured energy pathways emanating from lumyrite, which I am told is not?—”
“Oh, how marvelous!”
“—not especially riveting to most people.” He smiled politely and took a deliberate step backward. “It has been a pleasure. I do hope you enjoy the tea house when it opens. Good morning.”
He managed a bow that was, he hoped, sufficiently civil to end the conversation, and turned before either of them could find another avenue of inquiry. Lady Calantha’s words turned over in his mind as he rounded the side of The Charmed Leaf:A great many notable persons have come to Bloomhaven early this year. It seems to be quite the fashion.
