Page 54 of Hawk & Sparrow

“Good heavens!”

Several people were running around the house down the hill, with Mrs. Belver and Professor O’Gilvie in the lead. For one frantic moment, she thought about the teratorn, still flying around the aviary, but when she turned, the bird had perched itself on a tree branch. It was still looking at her, but showed no apparent interest in moving. It seemed the professor had been right about the giant bird tiring easily.

“Miss Evans!” At last, Mrs. Belver reached them. Her cheery disposition was gone. In its place, her face had gone white. “Are you all right? What on earth happened?”

“Mr. Kite and I got locked in the aviary,” Vesper explained. “And someone set the teratorn loose. It was attacking us. We had to break the glass to get out, but really I’m fine.”

“Miss Evans.” There was a new sternness in Mrs. Belver’s voice. “You are most certainly not fine. Look at your hand.”

Vesper looked down. It seemed one large piece of glass had made it past Maximilian’s defenses and sliced right through her glove and into the meat of her right palm. Now that the adrenaline was beginning to wear off, it was starting to sting. She tried not to react, but winced.

“Miss Evans?”

Vesper turned. In the ensuing chaos, she’d nearly forgotten Maximilian. She stiffened. The sorcerer was lying down and looked even paler than he’d been that morning. Nicks and small cuts covered his face, a few of them bleeding, but his eyes were on her injured hand. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I thought I—”

“You both need medical attention,” said Mrs. Belver. She signaled to two footmen who were running across the grass. Together, they carefully got Vesper to her feet. Upright, Vesper now saw that several more servants were quickly trying to cover the hole in the aviary.

“I’m going to take Mr. Kite and Miss Evans up to the house to be bandaged,” said Mrs. Belver.

“If it’s all right, I’ll have my footman attend to me,” said Maximilian. He winced, then sat up. “Please, prioritize Miss Evans.”

Vesper felt a pang of something she couldn’t quite name. Gratitude? Guilt? In truth, Maximilian looked like he needed far more immediate attention than her, but the sorcerer was already shaking off the Belvers’ attendants.

“Come, dear.” Mrs. Belver gently took her by the arm. “Let’s get you inside and cleaned up.”

Vesper only got one more look at Maximilian before Mrs. Belver led her away from the destroyed aviary and toward the house. There was something about the way the sorcerer had looked at her, something about the remorse she’d heard in his voice, that she found she couldn’t stop thinking about. She thought of all the cuts on his body compared to only one of her hands, and new understanding dawned on her.

He shielded you. He deliberately took the brunt of the glass to try to protect you.

The thought made her heart beat faster for a reason she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She was still thinking about it when she and Mrs. Belver reached the mansion. More liveried men held the door open as they ducked inside, and Mrs. Belver guided her down a long hallway of rich oak. Vesper’s eyes wandered as they walked. Every room in this house looked as though it belonged in a museum. Deep, jewel-toned drapes framed its towering windows, and every room was furnished with stone busts, porcelain vases, and floor-to-ceiling oil paintings. At last, Mrs. Belver led her to a sitting room with several chaises, bookshelves, and a grand piano.

“This is for your hand.” She offered Vesper a handkerchief. “I’m going to find water and some proper gauze for a bandage. We may even be able to get the bloodstains out of that gorgeous dress, if I can find our laundress. You just stay right there.”

“Thank you,” said Vesper. She found she was surprisingly touched by Mrs. Belver’s care. All her life, she’d only thought of rich people as self-centered and rude. She now wondered if perhaps she’d been wrong to cast such a broad judgment.

Mrs. Belver nodded and squeezed her uninjured hand. “Nothing to thank me for, dear, I’m just glad you’re safe. I’ll be back.”

Mrs. Belver gave her a final pat on the shoulder before heading down a different hall. The last of the adrenaline was fading, and now the sting in Vesper’s hand was becoming more pronounced. She let her eyes wander the room to distract herself. A huge painting of a younger Mr. and Mrs. Belver on their wedding day was mounted on the wall to the right. Vesper sighed. What was it like for people like the Belvers and Maximilian Kite, who’d never wanted for anything? She was still studying the painting when the soft pad of footsteps drew her eyes right. Vesper started.

“Oh!” Bess Duxley was standing at the doorway in a day dress. “My apologies, I … I was looking for a powder room.” Her eyes landed on Vesper’s bloodied hand and her mouth popped open in a perfect O. “Goodness. Are you all right?”

“I will be,” said Vesper. “Mrs. Belver’s gone to get a dressing.”

“What happened?”

“In short, I had a much more interactive experience in the aviary than planned.”

A half smile pulled at one corner of Bess’s lips. “I’m glad you’re all right.”

Silence fell between them, and for a few seconds, Vesper wasn’t sure what to say. “Did you come with your parents?”

Bess nodded. “The only time I’m allowed to go out anymore is with my mother.” Her tone was sullen. “I’m twenty, but she treats me like a child.”

Vesper felt a stab of pity for the girl. “I’m sure your mother only does what she thinks is best for you.”

Bess gave a small, humorless laugh. “I’m not. She does what’s best for her, and her reputation.” She sighed, then nodded to Vesper. “I’ll bet your mother is much more reasonable.”

Vesper’s gaze dropped to her hands. “Not exactly. My mother passed away when I was eight.” When she looked back up, Bess looked stricken.