brother’s butler, who bowed deeply. “Welcome, Lady Victoria. Your sister requested that she be notified as soon as you arrived.” He glanced at a footman, who immediately set off. “If I may take your cloak and bonnet, my lady?”
Tory could hear the chatter of strange voices in nearby rooms. By the time she’d removed her outer garments, Sarah appeared, her face alight. Tall and blond and very lovely, she looked a bit like Cynthia, but with a better disposition. “Tory!”
They hugged each other hard. Tory was on the verge of tears. She’d missed her family so much . Ending the hug, she said, “I used to dream that someday I’d be as tall as you. It hasn’t happened.”
Sarah grinned. “Resign yourself to shortness. I think it’s too late for you to catch up with me.”
Tory had inherited her petite frame and dark hair from her mother’s Russian grandmother, Viktoria Ivanova. She’d also received her name and probably her magic from the woman. “Someone has to be the runt of the litter,” she joked.
“You’re do appear a bit too thin,” Sarah said critically. “But otherwise you’re in good looks. Do they feed you well enough at Lackland?”
“The food isn’t bad, but it’s not like home.”
“You must be hungry after that long journey. Dinner won’t be until rather late, so come up to my room and we’ll have tea and cakes.” Sarah glanced at the butler. “Would you take care of that, Simpson? And ask Lord Roger up also.”
The butler bowed acknowledgment and Sarah swept Tory away. “This will give us some time to catch up before Roger arrives.”
As the sisters climbed the stairs, Tory asked, “Is Mama here yet?”
Sarah’s levity vanished. “She wanted to come, but Father forbade it.”
Tory bit her lip, painfully disappointed. Sarah had to be equally disappointed. “I’m sorry. It’s costing you a lot to have me at your wedding.”
“It’s worth it.” Sarah darted a worried glance. “But—there’s a cost to you also. Remember we’d always assumed we’d stand up for each other at our weddings?”
Tory braced herself. “You’re saying I can’t be your maid of honor.”
“I’m afraid not.” Sarah sighed as she opened the door to her room. “Roger’s family isn’t thrilled that he’s marrying a … a Mansfield.”
“Because the Mansfields are tainted by evil mage blood,” Tory said helpfully as she stepped into the comfortable bedchamber and moved to the small sitting area.
Sarah winced. “The Hawthornes are more tolerant than Father, but they aren’t exactly approving. Do you mind terribly?”
“Do I mind that I’m here on the condition that I stay mum and don’t draw attention?” Tory’s smile was crooked as she recognized how much her life had changed. “The situation doesn’t please me, but I’m very aware that it would have been much easier for you to ignore my existence and have a grander, less complicated wedding at Fairmount. I’ll behave, and I appreciate what you’ve sacrificed to have me here.”
Sarah’s face stilled. “You’ve grown a lot these last few months, Tory.”
Had Sarah expected Tory to make a scene about not being in the wedding? Apparently. Tory shrugged. “I didn’t have much choice.”
Sarah sank onto the small sofa and gestured for Tory to sit. “Is Lackland dreadful?”
Tory took a chair opposite, considering her reply as she smoothed her skirts. “It’s rather like a female version of Eton, only without the beatings that Geoffrey had to endure. Most of the girls are nice and I’ve made good friends. I enjoy most of my classes and teachers.” Except Miss Macklin. “The hardest part was being wrenched away from Fairmount and feeling as if I was a worthless criminal being sent to Newgate Prison.”
Her sister relaxed a little. “I’m glad it’s not worse. If only you hadn’t had to reveal your magic in front of everyone important in the county!”
“You know I didn’t have any choice.”
Tory could hear the chatter of strange voices in nearby rooms. By the time she’d removed her outer garments, Sarah appeared, her face alight. Tall and blond and very lovely, she looked a bit like Cynthia, but with a better disposition. “Tory!”
They hugged each other hard. Tory was on the verge of tears. She’d missed her family so much . Ending the hug, she said, “I used to dream that someday I’d be as tall as you. It hasn’t happened.”
Sarah grinned. “Resign yourself to shortness. I think it’s too late for you to catch up with me.”
Tory had inherited her petite frame and dark hair from her mother’s Russian grandmother, Viktoria Ivanova. She’d also received her name and probably her magic from the woman. “Someone has to be the runt of the litter,” she joked.
“You’re do appear a bit too thin,” Sarah said critically. “But otherwise you’re in good looks. Do they feed you well enough at Lackland?”
“The food isn’t bad, but it’s not like home.”
“You must be hungry after that long journey. Dinner won’t be until rather late, so come up to my room and we’ll have tea and cakes.” Sarah glanced at the butler. “Would you take care of that, Simpson? And ask Lord Roger up also.”
The butler bowed acknowledgment and Sarah swept Tory away. “This will give us some time to catch up before Roger arrives.”
As the sisters climbed the stairs, Tory asked, “Is Mama here yet?”
Sarah’s levity vanished. “She wanted to come, but Father forbade it.”
Tory bit her lip, painfully disappointed. Sarah had to be equally disappointed. “I’m sorry. It’s costing you a lot to have me at your wedding.”
“It’s worth it.” Sarah darted a worried glance. “But—there’s a cost to you also. Remember we’d always assumed we’d stand up for each other at our weddings?”
Tory braced herself. “You’re saying I can’t be your maid of honor.”
“I’m afraid not.” Sarah sighed as she opened the door to her room. “Roger’s family isn’t thrilled that he’s marrying a … a Mansfield.”
“Because the Mansfields are tainted by evil mage blood,” Tory said helpfully as she stepped into the comfortable bedchamber and moved to the small sitting area.
Sarah winced. “The Hawthornes are more tolerant than Father, but they aren’t exactly approving. Do you mind terribly?”
“Do I mind that I’m here on the condition that I stay mum and don’t draw attention?” Tory’s smile was crooked as she recognized how much her life had changed. “The situation doesn’t please me, but I’m very aware that it would have been much easier for you to ignore my existence and have a grander, less complicated wedding at Fairmount. I’ll behave, and I appreciate what you’ve sacrificed to have me here.”
Sarah’s face stilled. “You’ve grown a lot these last few months, Tory.”
Had Sarah expected Tory to make a scene about not being in the wedding? Apparently. Tory shrugged. “I didn’t have much choice.”
Sarah sank onto the small sofa and gestured for Tory to sit. “Is Lackland dreadful?”
Tory took a chair opposite, considering her reply as she smoothed her skirts. “It’s rather like a female version of Eton, only without the beatings that Geoffrey had to endure. Most of the girls are nice and I’ve made good friends. I enjoy most of my classes and teachers.” Except Miss Macklin. “The hardest part was being wrenched away from Fairmount and feeling as if I was a worthless criminal being sent to Newgate Prison.”
Her sister relaxed a little. “I’m glad it’s not worse. If only you hadn’t had to reveal your magic in front of everyone important in the county!”
“You know I didn’t have any choice.”
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