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“I couldn’t go back,” her mother said with a quick shake of her head. As though her affirmations could explain it all. “I had no magic. No dust. I tried. I couldn’t find the portal. Time after time, I tried. I even made your father go with me. He has compared me to a Bedlamite on more than one occasion.” She began to fidget with the bedclothes. She took a deep breath. A breath heavy enough Sophia was surprised that she didn’t suck all the air from the room. “I never thought they would be able to take you from me.”
“Where is Grandmother?”
“Sleeping. I sent them all to bed. Even Marcus. He’s quite confused.”
If he was half as confused as Sophia, he was nearly insane.
“Only your duke is still awake. He’s probably still standing vigil at the door.” Her hazel eyes twinkled. “He’s the one, isn’t he?” She leaned forward and propped her chin in her hand, blinking those pretty eyes at Sophia. It was like looking into a mirror.
Sophia shook her head. “He can’t be the one. He’s not of my world.”
Lady Ramsdale snorted lightly. But she didn’t say anything else. She reached into her pocket and pulled forth the silver casket Sophia had given to Lord Ramsdale the night before. “I believe this is for you.”
Sophia sputtered. “I gave that to your husband last night. It was our mission.”
The lady chuckled heartily, tears welling again in her eyes. “My father’s machinations, I imagine. I am so glad he finally came to his senses. I thought he’d never do this.”
Sophia shoved her hands back as her mother tried to give the casket to her. “But it’s sealed by magic. I can’t open it.”
“I have already opened it. It filled in a lot of blanks for me. I imagine there’s one for Marcus, too.” Sh
e held it out again.
Sophia shook her head. “What’s in it?”
Lady Ramsdale shrugged. “My memories of you.” She shook her head quickly and got up to face the window. She kept talking. And Sophia let her. “I thought my magic would be strong enough. I thought I could keep you. I cast a few spells, enchanted some charms. I even enchanted you. Your love for music? Have you ever wondered where it came from?”
Sophia had always wondered.
“It’s a token I planted within you. A memory of me. One of my greatest loves, aside from my husband and children, is music. In case my spells didn’t keep you here with me, I wanted you to be able to find me someday.” She shrugged. “It worked.”
“You tried to keep me with you.” Sophia sat forward, fully absorbed in the tale.
“With my very being,” she said, clutching a fist to her chest. “I’m the daughter of one of the Trusted Few, for goodness sake. A renowned mission faerie. A thing of legend and lore. I thought my magic would be strong enough. It wasn’t.” She equivocated. “Well, it was. But it was a little too late.”
She sat down on the edge of Sophia’s bed and continued her tale, her words frantic and hurried and barely comprehensible. “When someone of the fae falls in love with a human, he or she must make a choice. A lady must choose between his world and hers, you see? I had to choose to stay with your father and go forward with him in this world, knowing full well that any children I had who were born fae would be taken from me just after their birth. Along with my memories.”
Sophia opened her mouth to speak but closed it quickly when her mother rushed on.
“It’s an ending we expect, but I thought I would be able to keep you. I took every opportunity I had to break the fae hold upon you.” She held up both hands as though offering something to Sophia. “It didn’t work. They came and took you, and they took my memories of you. Of all that I did.” She reached for the silver casket. “That’s what’s in this box.”
Sophia didn’t take it.
“I tried something different with each of you. With you and Marcus, it didn’t work. I didn’t know until I laid eyes upon you that you even existed. But I knew you with my heart the moment I saw you.” She clutched a fist to her chest again.
What about Claire? She didn’t mention Claire.
A quick rap at the door grabbed her attention. The door opened a crack, and a lovely young woman entered the room. “I just couldn’t wait any longer,” she said, a grin upon her face. Lady Ramsdale sighed, smiled, and beckoned her closer. “Sophia, this is Rose. Rose is my youngest daughter.” Lady Ramsdale reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind the girl’s ear. It was pointed, just like hers. “She’s fae, too. But I finally found a way to keep one of my children.”
“You have more children.” Sophia suddenly felt like her heart was being ripped from her chest. She’d let the Trusted Few take three of her children. And had kept the fourth. “Did you just try harder with the fourth one?”
Lady Ramsdale’s brows knit. “Fourth?” She shook her head as though to clear it. “I have two daughters and a son of this world. One of my daughters, Rose, was born fae. The other two were not. The two who were not born fae—there was never any question about them remaining with me. The fae didn’t want them. They would have wanted Rose. They would have taken her from me. But something I did worked with this one. I don’t know why.” She stroked a hand down Rose’s hair. “It’s not her fault she was allowed to stay with me,” she said succinctly, as though warning Sophia to treat her sister with kindness.
Of course, it wasn’t the girl’s fault she was the one her parents had kept.
Sophia rubbed at her temples. A dull thump began behind her brows.
“I know this is difficult for you,” her mother said. “It’s a lot to take in at once.”
