another. Sophia scoffed. “He doesn’t even know me.”
Margaret sent her a pointed glance. “A man does not have to know you to want you in his bed, miss,” she informed Sophia.
“How did Ronald get up here?”
“He climbed the trellis. He was in the foulest of moods.” Margaret covered a giggle. “I did hit him with a fireplace poker when he tried to lean his body out the window and take down those chimes.”
“I’m very proud of you. What made you do it? I know you hate the chimes as much as he does.” Everyone worried about Sophia and chimes. Or music of any kind.
“I assumed the duke would be none too happy to see his silver balls smashed to bits on the garden floor.”
“Good point,” Sophia encouraged.
“Ronald’s legs are too short to reach them, anyway. You should have seen the look on his face when the poker hit his backside.” This time, the house faerie chuckled loudly.
“Shh,” Sophia reminded her gently. “Or Grandmother will feel the need to come and interject herself into the conversation.”
“What if Ronald’s right, miss?” Margaret asked gently.
“A rest in the duke’s bed is not on my agenda for this mission.”
“I doubt he’d want you to do much resting.” Margaret held out Sophia’s nightrail, but she waved it away.
“I need to go out. Can you get my blue dress?” The webbed dress was her favorite, made from the softest strands of a spider’s web, laced together to form cloth. Then it was conditioned by the same spiders to be formfitting, which allowed Sophia to slide through keyholes with ease, and the trailing bits of fabric that covered her legs were made in such a way that they would simply fall off the overskirt of the dress, should she snag it during one of her escapades.
“If you damage this dress, I’ll not be the one to go back to the spiders and barter for a new one,” Margaret said. She hadn’t even gone the last time. Sophia had gone herself. And barely come out of it with a new dress.
Sophia fluffed the tendrils of fabric that fell, making it tickle around her knees where it stopped. “Do I look all right?” she asked as she regarded herself in the looking glass.
Margaret reached up and began to pull the pins from Sophia’s hair, letting it fall down around her shoulders. “Good idea,” Sophia said as she massaged her scalp. She certainly didn’t want to leave hairpins behind if she had to make a mad dash for safety.
“Be careful,” Margaret warned as Sophia willed her wings into existence. Then she shrank to the size of a child’s toy.
“Can you get the window?” Sophia asked, as she fluttered in the air. She could get the window herself, but it would take time that she didn’t want to waste.
Margaret opened the window and Sophia glanced at the chimes. No breeze broke the stillness of the night, and the chimes were uncommonly silent. It was almost as if they were a great sleeping beast just waiting to wake and steal her concentration. She shook herself from her reverie. “I can let myself back in, if you want to go to bed. Just leave the window cracked.”
“Your grandmother would never forgive me if I left while you’re on a mission. I’ll wait.”
“Well, take a nap. Your disposition could certainly use it.” Margaret was often cross, but never cross and obnoxious, not unless she was tired.
Margaret harrumphed. “I can plan my own night’s activities, thank you very much.”
Sophia flittered out the window and into the damp night air. Sophia loved the night air and everything that came with it. She circled the house quickly, fairly certain she’d be able to find Lady Anne’s chambers from the exterior of the house. Then she’d just have to find a way inside, once she had her bearings, so she could go through a keyhole or slide beneath a door.
But as she went from window to window looking inside, she finally came upon a window that was partially open. She landed gently on the windowsill and bent to slide
Margaret sent her a pointed glance. “A man does not have to know you to want you in his bed, miss,” she informed Sophia.
“How did Ronald get up here?”
“He climbed the trellis. He was in the foulest of moods.” Margaret covered a giggle. “I did hit him with a fireplace poker when he tried to lean his body out the window and take down those chimes.”
“I’m very proud of you. What made you do it? I know you hate the chimes as much as he does.” Everyone worried about Sophia and chimes. Or music of any kind.
“I assumed the duke would be none too happy to see his silver balls smashed to bits on the garden floor.”
“Good point,” Sophia encouraged.
“Ronald’s legs are too short to reach them, anyway. You should have seen the look on his face when the poker hit his backside.” This time, the house faerie chuckled loudly.
“Shh,” Sophia reminded her gently. “Or Grandmother will feel the need to come and interject herself into the conversation.”
“What if Ronald’s right, miss?” Margaret asked gently.
“A rest in the duke’s bed is not on my agenda for this mission.”
“I doubt he’d want you to do much resting.” Margaret held out Sophia’s nightrail, but she waved it away.
“I need to go out. Can you get my blue dress?” The webbed dress was her favorite, made from the softest strands of a spider’s web, laced together to form cloth. Then it was conditioned by the same spiders to be formfitting, which allowed Sophia to slide through keyholes with ease, and the trailing bits of fabric that covered her legs were made in such a way that they would simply fall off the overskirt of the dress, should she snag it during one of her escapades.
“If you damage this dress, I’ll not be the one to go back to the spiders and barter for a new one,” Margaret said. She hadn’t even gone the last time. Sophia had gone herself. And barely come out of it with a new dress.
Sophia fluffed the tendrils of fabric that fell, making it tickle around her knees where it stopped. “Do I look all right?” she asked as she regarded herself in the looking glass.
Margaret reached up and began to pull the pins from Sophia’s hair, letting it fall down around her shoulders. “Good idea,” Sophia said as she massaged her scalp. She certainly didn’t want to leave hairpins behind if she had to make a mad dash for safety.
“Be careful,” Margaret warned as Sophia willed her wings into existence. Then she shrank to the size of a child’s toy.
“Can you get the window?” Sophia asked, as she fluttered in the air. She could get the window herself, but it would take time that she didn’t want to waste.
Margaret opened the window and Sophia glanced at the chimes. No breeze broke the stillness of the night, and the chimes were uncommonly silent. It was almost as if they were a great sleeping beast just waiting to wake and steal her concentration. She shook herself from her reverie. “I can let myself back in, if you want to go to bed. Just leave the window cracked.”
“Your grandmother would never forgive me if I left while you’re on a mission. I’ll wait.”
“Well, take a nap. Your disposition could certainly use it.” Margaret was often cross, but never cross and obnoxious, not unless she was tired.
Margaret harrumphed. “I can plan my own night’s activities, thank you very much.”
Sophia flittered out the window and into the damp night air. Sophia loved the night air and everything that came with it. She circled the house quickly, fairly certain she’d be able to find Lady Anne’s chambers from the exterior of the house. Then she’d just have to find a way inside, once she had her bearings, so she could go through a keyhole or slide beneath a door.
But as she went from window to window looking inside, she finally came upon a window that was partially open. She landed gently on the windowsill and bent to slide
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