Page 35 of The Starling and the Hatter

“Except that you’re not really one of them, are you?” he said with a grimacing tilt of his mouth.

His words made my heart squeeze with hurt. “What do you mean?” I cherished the idea that the Hatchers had taken me in.

“You’re a festival rat, Elise. And the hatters are…they’ll never really understand that.”

I adjusted the wooden perch in my arms. “Maybe not, but they still care for me.”

“Of course they do; you’re easy to care for,” he said, waving it aside with ease. “But in the end, they’ll always have a house and stability, and by the looks of their operation—more money than you or I are ever going to see.”

“I make my own way,” I said, not wanting him to think I was living off of their charity, even if it sometimes felt that way.

“I’m sure you do. That’s what you were raised for. That’s my point. All of this”—he gestured to the colorful tents and stalls, the costumes and flowing drink—“is what you know. It’s where you belong. And no matter how many festivals the hatters might travel to, they won’t ever really fit in with those of us whose home is on wheels—or on the ground.”

I frowned, unsure what I disliked more, his characterization of me and the Hatchers, or the fact that it was true.

“We know how to survive,” he continued. “That’s all we’ve ever done, and it’s all we’ll ever do. We’ll never know what it’s like to take in and support a complete stranger.”

I bristled. “I told you, they don’t support me.”

His smile was soft. “I’m really not challenging your ability to care for yourself, Elise.” He reached over and tapped the brim of my hat. “I know how strong you are. Do you?”

I breathed in the compliment and let it warm me from inside. I knew he had a point. I could see all too well the difference between the Hatchers and myself, and there were things that Robert could understand about my life and the way I thought that Dorothy, Kat, Hatcher, and Marshall…they never could.

12

Maddox

Even as I helped customers, I kept looking through the crowd, waiting for Elise to return. When the sun started to set, I expected her to return, hoping she wouldn’t bring Robert with her this time. Having Elise invite him to join us for lunch had been bad enough. I didn’t know if I could stomach more of him. Seeing them together was maddening—and it wasn’t just because of the jealousy. It was the way she seemed to form herself around him, catering to his desires and wishes, setting aside her own opinions and wants.

I had just sent off a customer with a beaded sash and was sitting back at my table when I saw them—together again. They were still a ways off, too far away for me to hear the conversation they were having. Elise carried her perch while Robert strolled along, unencumbered. As they conversed, he reached over to touch the hat I had made for her and I watched as her whole body seemed to respond to him, like his words and that gesture had made her fall for him in a single instant. Oh, how I hated it.

I dropped my eyes as they came close enough for me to hear.

“You and I would make a formidable pair,” Robert said as they approached.

“Pardon?” she asked. She was likely wondering the same thing I was. A pair of what? There were so many options when thinking of pairs. Some exciting, some mundane.

“Hello, Hatch,” Elise said with her usual sweetness as they passed by my work table.

I looked up and gave her a smile but remained silent.

“Performing together,” Robert answered.

“And what would our act be?” she asked, opening and closing a set of drawers where I kept small odds and ends. Apparently, Elise hadn’t told him that not only did she already perform with others, but that she was a brilliant act in her own right and didn’t need him to make her better.

“We could be a magical, singing duo,” Robert declared with a pomposity that grated my nerves. “Can’t you imagine?” he asked, lifting his arms in grand fashion. “The great Robert White,” he said sweeping into a bow. “And his wonderfully talented partner,” he continued, gesturing to Elise with a flourish, “the esteemed Elise W—”

“Robert.” Elise’s eyes and voice snapped.

White froze for a moment and then dropped his hand with a sigh. He stepped closer to Elise, murmuring barely loud enough that I was able to overhear. “Your last name is not something to be ashamed of.”

Her head tilted and her brow furrowed as she looked up at him. “Yes, it is.” Her quiet assertion made me proud of her and angry at him. For someone who knew Elise, White seemed to be terrible at reading her mood.

He put up his hands in surrender, but it was a condescending gesture that made my lip curl.

Elise went back to looking through the drawers until she found a linked chain and pulled it out. “Here,” she said, holding it out to him. “If you take it to Hatcher, he’ll attach it for you.”

He took it from her and studied it. “And what if I can’t afford it?” he asked.