Page 58 of Hawk & Sparrow

“Is he unkind?”

“He’s fifty-seven.” Ada’s tone was flat. “I’m nineteen.”

Vesper stiffened. At fifty-four, Mr. Calhoun was three times her age. Her brow furrowed.

“Surely you don’t have to marry him if you don’t want to,” she said tentatively. “Couldn’t you just tell your parents that you don’t—”

“My parents are the ones who’ve arranged the marriage.” There was a bite in Ada’s words, but this time, Vesper heard a slight whine behind them that reminded her of an injured animal. In a whisper, Ada added: “My father has made things quite clear. He’s tired of my ‘dilly-dallying,’ as he puts it, and he wants me to make myself a respectable woman. I’m to marry Mr. Calhoun, or I will be stripped of my inheritance and cast out.” A single tear tracked down her cheek. “I have no useful trade or skill,” she said. “I wouldn’t last so much as a week on this city’s streets.”

Vesper squeezed Ada’s hand. “What if you found someone else?” she asked. “Someone handsome and kind, but closer to your age? Perhaps that might satisfy your father?”

Ada shook her head. “It isn’t about that,” she said. “I could meet the perfect man, and I still wouldn’t want to marry him.”

“Why?”

“Because as you know, our coverture laws decree that the assets of a married woman become the property of her husband as soon as they are married,” Ada explained. “My inheritance, everything I own? It will no longer belong to me, ever again.”

Vesper had heard rumors of the city’s archaic coverture laws, but never before had they been explained to her in such stark terms. She suddenly looked at Ada with a very different perspective. All her life, Vesper had had to work for everything she had; all her life she’d felt trapped by her socioeconomic status. But here was Ada, a young woman who had access to immense wealth and power, and she was trapped too. Vesper found herself thinking of the birds she’d seen at the Belvers’ aviary. Maybe women were like caged birds. Some of the cages might be large and elegant, others might be small and crude, but a cage was still a cage.

“You know, high society gossips about spinsters,” Ada murmured, “but I actually think I would have been happy as one. People might have talked about me, but at least I would have been free.”

Vesper didn’t know what to say to that.

Ada sighed. “I should probably go.” She looked over her shoulder. “My mother and I are supposed to have tea with Sarah Levant and her mother.”

Involuntarily, Vesper grimaced, which made Ada laugh.

“You’ve met Sarah, then?”

“At the polo match.” Vesper nodded. “She wasn’t very kind.”

For the first time, Ada’s expression turned sly. “Oh, I imagine not,” she said. “She’s probably quite jealous of you.”

“Jealous?” Vesper frowned. “Why on earth would Sarah Levant be jealous of me?”

“Didn’t you know?” One of Ada’s brows rose. “Maximilian courted her last year. It went on for a while, but then it abruptly ended without much fanfare. No one really knows why.”

Vesper chewed on her lip.

Ada looked over her shoulder again. “I’d better start walking toward the end of the street,” she said. “My coach can’t come down here.” She gave Vesper a half smile. “It was good to see you, and thank you for listening.”

Vesper watched Ada until she’d disappeared into the crowd and out of sight. Even when she was gone though, her words echoed. Maximilian had courted Sarah Levant? They came from the same world, she supposed, but was that really the kind of girl he liked? She couldn’t explain the disappointment she felt, the hard twist in her stomach. She reminded herself that who Maximilian courted was none of her business. He was her employer, and his personal life was none of her concern.

She returned to the area where the scarecrow competition was happening, but it seemed Tom and the rest of the Globe’s staff had already moved on. Vesper opted to continue meandering down the street. She was eyeing a table with several hand-painted earrings, when she heard a commotion.

A small group of men was making its way through the crowd. One quick look at their clothes told Vesper they were mostly laborers. Several of them were holding up crudely painted signs. She read them:

MORE SCHOOLS, LESS JAILS!

AN INJURY TO ONE IS AN INJURY TO ALL!

EIGHT HOURS WORK, EIGHT HOURS SLEEP, EIGHT HOURS LEISURE!

None of the men were speaking, but each of them held grim expressions as their procession moved down the road with their signs held high. Vesper watched them until they were out of sight, then continued down the street. That was the kind of thing her father might’ve done. She’d just noticed another table covered in various home-baked goods. An old woman was sitting behind it in a chair, speaking to a tall young man with unmistakable dark curls. Vesper drew in a sharp breath.

“Mr. Kite?”

The sorcerer turned, spotted her, then smiled. “Miss Evans.” He tipped his hat. “This is auspicious timing. Please, come join us.”