Page 3 of The Bookworm and the Pegasus Tamer

“You never know when you’ll get a quiet moment,” Aurelia said cheerfully, and Phoebe grinned at her.

“So true!” Phoebe hesitated, her voice turning soft. “Your grandmother…Not your mother?”

From her manner, she seemed to think Aurelia might not have a mother, so Aurelia answered quickly.

“Oh no, not Mama. She says we all have to be who we are. She says being ourselves is the only way we’ll find the right person to spend the rest of our life with.” She smiled affectionately at the thought of her mother. “It annoys Grandmama no end—which might be why Mama says it, come to think of it.”

Phoebe’s brows rose, and Aurelia rushed to defend her mother.

“Not that she doesn’t mean it. There are lots of things she and Grandmama don’t see eye to eye on. My father’s family used to be horribly poor, and not even particularly well connected either, so Grandmama had high hopes Father would marry someone with both a fortune and high-born connections. But he chose Mama instead. Her father settled plenty of money on her, but he was only a lowborn merchant, so now we’re even more on the fringes of society than ever, and Grandmama can’t forget it.”

“She should have been glad to get one of the two, at least,” Phoebe said. “It could have been worse. He could have fallen in love with a penniless girl of no family.”

“Exactly!” Aurelia cried, warming even more to her new friend. “That’s what I’ve always thought. But not Grandmama.” She sighed. “She now spends her time reminding us that we’re fortunate to be accepted into society at all and that none of us can afford to put a foot out of line.”

Phoebe’s nose wrinkled. “That sounds unpleasant. And your sister agrees?”

Aurelia grinned. “Alanna clashes with Grandmama often enough, but she thinks my books will injure my marriage chances. She’s very concerned about my chances because she knows she won’t get her opportunity until I’ve been successfully disposed of.”

Phoebe laughed. “You make it sound like you’re going to be dumped in the river and sent off with the current.”

“If I take too long, Alanna might consider it. So don’t go making that suggestion in her hearing.”

Phoebe laughed again, shaking her head. “I’m glad I met you, Aurelia. It’s my first time in Wynvale, and I didn’t expect to make a friend so quickly.”

“You’d really like to be friends?” Aurelia asked. “I haven’t made too many of them myself, so I won’t be any help where the other girls are concerned.”

“I have been well and truly warned about your dire social standing.” The twinkle in Phoebe’s eyes indicated she was joking. “But since my parents aren’t particularly respectable either and I have no desire to run around after the Earl of Windward, we can safely dwell on the fringes of society together.”

Aurelia’s eyes drifted back toward the tall, dark-haired figure beside the pegasus. “If we’re keeping our distance from everyone’s favorite Earl, I don’t think we’ll have much company.” She pulled her gaze away and looked at Fable instead, a grin spreading over her face. “But I, for one, am quite happy with the company we do have.”

“See,” Phoebe said to Fable. “I knew she had good taste. I could tell as soon as I caught sight of her.”

Fable gave such a solemn nod that both girls burst into laughter.

It was already the best social event Aurelia had attended since turning eighteen and arriving in Wynvale. And she would be able to write to her grandmama that she had made a friend, even if she couldn’t yet report any suitors.

Two

Aurelia scanned the crowded ballroom three weeks later but could see no sign of her new friend. She sighed. They had already met many times at various social events, and she had been relying on Phoebe’s presence to make the evening bearable, since Aurelia couldn’t rely on being asked to stand up for every dance. If she stood up for even half of them, she would be pleased.

Despite the size of the room, it was fast becoming crowded, and she would soon be unable to catch sight of most of the decorations. The blaze of candles alone was remarkable, their light a supplement to the more common luminescence of the moss lanterns. And she could still catch glimpses of the flowers that covered every possible surface. But she could no longer see the unusual pattern of the floor, although it had caught her attention earlier in the evening.

Clearly someone in the Marquess’s family—either past or present—had been bonded with a unicorn. Aurelia had seen no less than four paintings including unicorns on her way into the ballroom. And when the center of the floor was cleared for the beginning of the dancing, another unicorn was revealed, this one inlaid into the floorboards themselves through clever use of different wood shades.

Aurelia shook her head. She had danced at balls before, but she had never danced over the image of a unicorn.

She caught sight of her mother as the crowd shifted, but she was ensconced in a chair against one wall, deep in conversation with another matron. Aurelia didn’t want to join them and interrupt. Her mother didn’t have enough friends in Wynvale society for Aurelia to want to disrupt any social connection she was making. Her mother always put a good face on it, but Aurelia sensed that she cared more about being included in society than Aurelia did herself.

The orchestra struck up the next dance tune, and Aurelia’s hand slid toward the small bag hanging from her wrist. The book inside—chosen for its compact size—promised a welcome escape from the stuffy ballroom. But if she pulled it out too soon, she would chase off any gentleman who might have been tempted to ask her to dance.

The strains of the song continued, and the dancers arranged themselves in place and began the movements. Aurelia pulled out the book. She could put it away again before the end of the dance, but she didn’t fancy standing watching the dancers when she didn’t have anyone to talk with.

But she’d barely edged over to a candelabra and found her page when a commotion near the entrance of the ballroom intruded on her consciousness. She looked up curiously, sticking her finger between the pages to hold her place.

The Marquess and Marchioness throwing the ball—along with their daughter Lady Lucia, the guest of honor—had already abandoned the receiving line to join the festivities. If a late arrival was attracting enough attention to make a stir, they had to be someone of interest, and Aurelia had heard a rumor that the queen herself might make an appearance.

Her eyes found Lady Lucia thanks to the blinding white color of her gown—a color Aurelia would never dare wear for fear she would instantly spill punch all over it. The new arrival bowing over her hand straightened, and Aurelia sighed. Even across a ballroom there was no mistaking the Earl of Windward.