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My ears prick up. ‘Our girl?’
“You’d have me chase her away? Like you did?” Dottie’s a different person. Gone is thebonhomiethat permeated our tea party, and the gentlewoman who guided me away from her door. In her place is a warrior, a dragon, a she-wolf. The dog at her side only reinforces the notion that she has been sent on hell’s business.
“Mariano, if you’d give us a minute?” Gwen Spicer dismisses me. “Perhaps we can talk about the business once you’ve changed? But before the feast? I want to hear everything you have to tell me and get some direction on who you want me to butter up, who the return clients might be, that sort of thing.” Gwen turns away without another thought. Dottie doesn’t even look in my direction. The two women are locked in silent combat. I want to stay, to hear more about ‘our girl,’ but I have my own plan to hatch, so I take to the stairs again and dive into my room.
The Zoom connection isn’t great, but I’m able to raise Esther Fitzwilliam on the first try. “Mariano! I can’t begin to tell you how wonderful it is to see your face. You’re missed here every day. It’s simply not the same without you.”
There are things I should say, pleasantries to exchange, but she knows I’m calling for a reason, so I should get to it and not waste her time. “You have Velveteen in your care?”
She cocks her head to one side, a smile playing on her lips. “I do.”
“How might we arrange her transport?” It’s not ideal, moving a horse from one continent to another, but if I take what I’ve already earned, I can bring her here first class.
“Transport?”
“I want Lolly to have her horse back. I want her to be able to ride the pony who makes her happier than all the others. I want her to have her soul horse back.”
Esther tugs on her earlobe. “Here’s the thing, Mariano. She sold Velveteen to me.”
The blood drains from my cheeks. I had never thought it as bad as that. To have parted with her pony means she may stay here…forever. I told her I would do the same—stay here as long as necessary, and she never answered because she knew she was staying. The knife to my heart is as sharp as it was when I heard my father was sick. This isthe worstfor her. To be parted from a horse who means that much to you is an impossible wound. “I’ll buy her. Name your price.”
Esther shakes her head. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Mariano.”
“You can’t or you won’t?” I’d never thought Esther a selfish human. Quite the opposite. I thought she’d be chomping at the bit to help me once she understood. “I’ll meet any price you ask.” If we are to stay here, so be it. I’d rather be with Lolly than without. Surely if I deliver her horse, she’ll see that I understand her heart and want only what she wants.
“That’s not it.” Esther turns from the camera. “I’m not at liberty to say more, but give me a day or two and I’ll get back to you.” She reaches for the screen.
“Anything, Esther. Everything. I’ll give all I own to make this happen.”
She shakes her head ruefully as if I am some kind of fool, and the screen goes dark.
DOUBLE STANDARDS
Lolly Benoit. The Dower House. The Cotswolds, England.
The Dower House is empty. No Mr. Wiggins. No Aunt Dottie. No one to share my news with and soften the blow. I’ve been a total shit and not called Alicia since I hung up on her, but she’s the only one who will understand what’s going on and so, in spite of the ungodly hour, I shoot her a text.
TEXTRSTART_Unregenerate ingrate needs immediate assistance. Angels only need reply _TEXTREND
My phone rings almost immediately. “I don’t know about the unregenerate part, but I am an angel, you’re right. And you don’t deserve me, except when you do, and now you’re going to tell me what the fuck is going on, and then I’m going to tell you what to do about it.”
Even hearing her voice puts me in a better place, where all my aches—heart, hip, shoulder—recede slightly. Alicia is better than I deserve—smarter, kinder, more patient—but I can’t let that get in the way of talking to her.
“She’s a witch, Alicia. I can’t…” I can barely speak through the tears.
“Thewitch, I assume? The one who gave you a job?”
Ugh. She’s going to go there. Be all logical and shit.Just like she was when youlastcalled her, about Mariano,some exceedingly irritating and traitorous voice in my head whispers.
“I get it. There’s history, and it’s heavy shit, but you knew who she was when you called her.”
The facts are what they are: I needed a job, I called my mother, she gave me a job without blinking, and now she’s here withopinionsabout the newspaper piece. The blow job shot.
“She says I’ve damaged the brand.”
“Okay…”
“But no one knows for sure it wasmeeeeeee.” The wail comes out of me just like it did back in the day, when my mother and I fought all the time. Alicia and I met shortly after our first summer back in the States, so she knows all about those early, fraught years.
