“I’ve eaten more than my share.”
“We haven’t been traveling and aren’t as hungry,” Lord Roger said. He’d eaten lightly, but was on his third cup of tea. “Tory, I don’t want you to think that your presence will damage my career. Rather the contrary, I suspect. Remember that the vast majority of Britons approve of magic. The men of the district I represent will think better of me for accepting my mage-born sister-in-law.”
“Most people think aristocrats are mad for condemning magic,” Sarah added. “I’ve thought about this a great deal since your abilities were revealed, and I agree. Magic is so useful. People like us are fools for not embracing it.”
“I think Parliament could use an advocate for magic who comes from the nobility,” Roger said seriously. “Thanks to my great uncle, I’m financially independent, so I can buck the disapproval of other aristocrats if I choose.” He took a ginger cake from its plate. “There is a great deal of hypocrisy about magic among our kind. The Mansfields can’t be the only family concealing magic.”
Tory looked innocent. “Not the Mansfields in general. I’m the black sheep. Practically a changeling. I don’t look like anyone else in the family.”
“Roger knows of my modest ability, so there’s no need to claim you’re a changeling.” Sarah nibbled thoughtfully on an iced cake. “After you were revealed as a mageling, he and I had a long talk.” Her fingers tightened on the delicate china of her cup. “Honesty was necessary if our betrothal was to survive.”
If Lord Roger had broken with Sarah, no one would have blamed him. Many would have said he’d done exactly the right thing. “I’m very glad you two decided to marry in spite of my scandalous abilities,” Tory said quietly. “I’ll do my best not to embarrass you.”
“I’m a politician. I don’t embarrass easily,” Roger said, a twinkle in his eyes. “Someday you might even be an asset to my career.”
“I hope our children will grow up in a world where there is more tolerance of magic,” Sarah said. “But enough of that! For the next fortnight, Cecilia and I intend to see that you have a splendid time, Tory. There will be a ball to celebrate the wedding, and Cecilia has promised she’ll invite every attractive young man in the neighborhood for you to flirt with.”
Tory laughed. Though she didn’t have much interest in flirting with anyone but Allarde, a ball would be delightful. “My first ball! You know I love to dance. How many guests are staying here at Layton Place?”
“Most of the men are out hunting at the moment,” Sarah said, “but the house is full up, not counting everyone’s servants. Your room is tiny, and Molly will be sleeping on a pallet on your floor. Several of the neighboring estates are hosting guests, too. It’s the largest house party at Layton Place since Geoffrey and Cecilia moved in.”
“She must be frantic!” Tory said. “It’s time I paid my respects to her.” She eyed the almost empty plate of nut balls. Should she…?
She should. Sweeping up the last two nut balls, she said, “I’ll see you at dinner.” She curtsied gracefully, then left in search of her hostess. Geoffrey would be hunting with his guests. Where might Cecilia be?
Tory visualized her sweet-natured sister-in-law, then searched the house for that energy. Ah, the stillroom, of course. Cecilia was an expert at making medicines and cosmetics and other concoctions used around the house. Plus, the stillroom was a good place to hide from her guests if she wanted some peace.
Since the servants’ stairs were nearby, Tory descended that way. She emerged in the hall next to the kitchen. It was full of tempting scents and busy servants. Presiding over the staff was a tall and majestic cook who had trained at Fairmount and followed Geoffrey to Shropshire when he married and established his own household.
Tory poked her head in the door and said to the cook,
“We haven’t been traveling and aren’t as hungry,” Lord Roger said. He’d eaten lightly, but was on his third cup of tea. “Tory, I don’t want you to think that your presence will damage my career. Rather the contrary, I suspect. Remember that the vast majority of Britons approve of magic. The men of the district I represent will think better of me for accepting my mage-born sister-in-law.”
“Most people think aristocrats are mad for condemning magic,” Sarah added. “I’ve thought about this a great deal since your abilities were revealed, and I agree. Magic is so useful. People like us are fools for not embracing it.”
“I think Parliament could use an advocate for magic who comes from the nobility,” Roger said seriously. “Thanks to my great uncle, I’m financially independent, so I can buck the disapproval of other aristocrats if I choose.” He took a ginger cake from its plate. “There is a great deal of hypocrisy about magic among our kind. The Mansfields can’t be the only family concealing magic.”
Tory looked innocent. “Not the Mansfields in general. I’m the black sheep. Practically a changeling. I don’t look like anyone else in the family.”
“Roger knows of my modest ability, so there’s no need to claim you’re a changeling.” Sarah nibbled thoughtfully on an iced cake. “After you were revealed as a mageling, he and I had a long talk.” Her fingers tightened on the delicate china of her cup. “Honesty was necessary if our betrothal was to survive.”
If Lord Roger had broken with Sarah, no one would have blamed him. Many would have said he’d done exactly the right thing. “I’m very glad you two decided to marry in spite of my scandalous abilities,” Tory said quietly. “I’ll do my best not to embarrass you.”
“I’m a politician. I don’t embarrass easily,” Roger said, a twinkle in his eyes. “Someday you might even be an asset to my career.”
“I hope our children will grow up in a world where there is more tolerance of magic,” Sarah said. “But enough of that! For the next fortnight, Cecilia and I intend to see that you have a splendid time, Tory. There will be a ball to celebrate the wedding, and Cecilia has promised she’ll invite every attractive young man in the neighborhood for you to flirt with.”
Tory laughed. Though she didn’t have much interest in flirting with anyone but Allarde, a ball would be delightful. “My first ball! You know I love to dance. How many guests are staying here at Layton Place?”
“Most of the men are out hunting at the moment,” Sarah said, “but the house is full up, not counting everyone’s servants. Your room is tiny, and Molly will be sleeping on a pallet on your floor. Several of the neighboring estates are hosting guests, too. It’s the largest house party at Layton Place since Geoffrey and Cecilia moved in.”
“She must be frantic!” Tory said. “It’s time I paid my respects to her.” She eyed the almost empty plate of nut balls. Should she…?
She should. Sweeping up the last two nut balls, she said, “I’ll see you at dinner.” She curtsied gracefully, then left in search of her hostess. Geoffrey would be hunting with his guests. Where might Cecilia be?
Tory visualized her sweet-natured sister-in-law, then searched the house for that energy. Ah, the stillroom, of course. Cecilia was an expert at making medicines and cosmetics and other concoctions used around the house. Plus, the stillroom was a good place to hide from her guests if she wanted some peace.
Since the servants’ stairs were nearby, Tory descended that way. She emerged in the hall next to the kitchen. It was full of tempting scents and busy servants. Presiding over the staff was a tall and majestic cook who had trained at Fairmount and followed Geoffrey to Shropshire when he married and established his own household.
Tory poked her head in the door and said to the cook,
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