Will was following, and goodness, what did they both look so worried about?Īs Tessa reached her, the woman stepped aside, revealing the girl who had been standing behind her. Tessa was hurrying toward her, a concerned look on her face. Cordelia followed his glance, and saw a tall woman, thin as a scarecrow and dressed in the black of mourning, with gray-streaked auburn hair done in the style of decades ago piled on her head. She heard the click as he swallowed: he was looking past her, at someone who had just come into the room. Daisy sounds like a pretty little girl in hair ribbons.” She thought they were lovely: the color of fire and gold, the way she imagined the heart of the sun. She had heard the whispers, knew people found his eyes odd and alien, a sign of his difference. They were the color of golden syrup, almost shocking against the black of his pupils. Goodness, his eyes were startling up close. I like it.” She forced herself not to move her gaze from his. I hope you don’t intend me to stop using it.” “What, Daisy?” He was holding her close as they danced: she could feel the heat of him all up and down her front, making her prickle all over. “I didn’t realize you remembered that old nickname.” Though having you and Alastair here might bring us some excitement, Daisy.” Beyond that, I’m not sure I can think of any romances brewing in our set. “Charles and Daphne are engaged, and Barbara Lightwood has an understanding with George Hayward. “Lord, no, barely knows her,” said James. Let’s just hope he doesn’t pitch poor Rosamund Townsend into the refreshment table.” Alas, Christopher is far more at home with beakers and test tubes than he is with female company. “Who’s the boy tripping over his own feet?” Cordelia asked as the boy in question, a slender, ink-stained young man with spectacles and tousled brown curls, nearly careened into Lucie and Matthew. “He is definitely in love, and Matthew definitely thinks he is being foolish. “But it was only because I had lost an earring and was looking for it.” “I may have been hiding beneath a table,” said Lucie, with dignity. I heard a bit of their conversation once by accident, though -“ “He won’t say anything to anyone but Matthew, and Matthew is a tomb where James is concerned. Lucie plowed on, undeterred by the question of whether England’s foremost romantic poet did or did not stare out of windows. “Did Keats stare out of windows? I don’t recall hearing that.” “Well, it is a bit, isn’t it? He gets all pale and moody and stares off out of windows like Keats.” James in love? With who? The look he had given her when she stepped down from the carriage, perhaps she had imagined that? “You make it sound like consumption.” Cordelia’s head was whirling with dismay. But Father’s diagnosed him and he says it’s definitely love.” “Oh, he won’t say with who, of course, because it’s Jamie and he never tells us anything. “Fallen in love,” Lucie repeated, with the look of someone enjoying imparting a bit of gossip. Everything seemed to fly apart around her. She might as well have dropped an incendiary device on Cordelia’s head. “Of course I adore Jamie but he’s been dreadful lately, ever since he fell in love.” If I’d asked Alastair to walk ten paces behind me in a park he would have made sure to stick by my side the entire time just to be annoying.” “Oh, because -“ Because you get to spend time with James every day? She doubted Lucie thought that was any special gift one didn’t, when it was one’s family. The famous dark blue Herondale eyes had gone to Will’s sister’s children.Ĭordelia’s head snapped back around. Where James’ eyes were amber, Lucie’s were a pretty pale blue, a shade lighter than her father’s. “Goodness me, why?” Lucie looked at her with wide eyes. “You’re so lucky,” Cordelia said, wistfully, still looking over her shoulder at James. Cordelia suspected that if she had tried such a stunt, she would have crashed into a tree. Though he seemed entirely caught up in whatever he was perusing, he nevertheless skirted oncoming passers-by, the occasional rock or fallen branch, and once even a small boy holding a hoop, with admirable grace. James had a book out and was calmly reading while he walked. He’s quite distracted, reading.”Īnd he was. “Is it - I mean, I wish to chat alone with you, too, but are we being dreadfully rude asking your brother to walk behind us?” He even thought Alastair was perfect (and, possibly, also pretty.)Ĭordelia glanced over her shoulder. Of course Will was entirely prejudiced toward all things Carstairs. If Will thought she was pretty, perhaps his son thought so, too. “How pretty you’ve become.”Ĭordelia beamed. “Cordelia Carstairs,” Will said, after greeting her mother.
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