bed before she, too, made her way up the staircase.
She allowed Antoinette to take down her hair and brush it, though her skin prickled with impatience. She rubbed cold cream into her hands as the maid fussed with hanging up her dinner gown. She didn’t hurry Antoinette out, though anger burned in her stomach and her muscles tensed with the need to hurry. Time was running low. Only one day remained of their stay.
Antoinette tidied the dressing table, mounding the hairpins on their enameled tray, scooping up the hat pins to stick them into the waiting cushion. She settled Frances into bed, turned down the lamp, and left the room at last.
The moment the door closed, Frances scrambled from the bed and dived behind the wardrobe for the valise that held her supplies. She turned up the lamp just enough so she could see to work. She propped her two manikins against the mirror and set a match to her candle. She clipped a fingernail and set it in the saucer on top of the mistletoe and the last of the mandrake root and barrenwort. She pierced her finger and dripped fat dark drops over the whole, then held the saucer over the candle flame.
When the concoction was reduced to a few thick drops, she squeezed her finger to force out half a dozen more drops, soaking the mixture with fresh, undiluted blood. She needed every bit of magic she could call upon.
She painted the manikins as before, swiping up the last bits of the concoction, wasting none. She sat back, one simulacrum in each hand, and recited a new, stronger, more provocative cantrip.
Witch’s blood and witch’s claws
Witch’s power and witch’s cause
Heat your blood, inflame your brain
Till no usual sense remain.
Lust now fills you with its fire.
Be you maddened by desire.
The manikin representing Annis lay in her left hand like a dead thing, unresponsive, still. Her cantrip had no effect at all.
It was different with the manikin of the marquess. Her cantrip brought it to life with a jolt of energy that stung her hand. The simulacrum quivered and shook so hard she nearly dropped it. The pain of the maleficia shot through her belly, a great cramp that blurred her vision and made sweat break out on her chest.
“So be it,” she gritted, shaking the trembling manikin as an angry parent shakes a disobedient child. “Do what you must to win her. Hold nothing back! This is your last chance.”
29
Annis
Lady Eleanor stopped Annis as she was about to mount the staircase to go to bed. “Will you speak with me a moment, Miss Allington?” she said. “I would consider it a great favor.”
Frances’s laugh bubbled from the parlor, where she was playing cards with the older couples, but it couldn’t dispel the strained atmosphere that had marred the entire evening. Annis yearned to escape to her room, but she said politely, “Of course, my lady.” She turned away from the staircase and followed Lady Eleanor along the hall to a small room she hadn’t seen before.
As they entered, Lady Eleanor said, with a wave of her hand, “My personal study. This is where I write letters, manage accounts, and occasionally have a few moments to myself.”
“It’s a beautiful room,” Annis said with sincerity. Its walls were lined with bookshelves, every one of them full. A small ebony desk rested beneath a window, with a well-used blotter and an inkstand on it. There was a framed photograph of a younger, thinner Lady Eleanor, with a tall, distinguished-looking gentleman at her side. A lamp on the desk was already burning.
“Please take a seat,” Lady Eleanor said, gesturing to one of two upholstered armchairs arranged beside a piecrust table. Annis sat down, and Lady Eleanor settled opposite her. “I expect you’re tired after such an exciting day, Miss Allington.”
“A little,” Annis answered warily.
“Yes, indeed. A rather strenuous ride, I’m told by our stable master. And a proposal of marriage as well. Not every day a girl has such experiences.”
“No, my lady,” Annis said, resigned now. She should have known Lady Eleanor would be aware, and the strange thing was that she didn’t mind. Her hostess appeared more matter-of-fact than angry, which was a relief. It was best, surely, to have everything out in the open.
“I have nothing to say about your riding,” Lady Eleanor said. “Although I hope you will take thought for your safety. It might surprise you, but it’s my view you’re wise to forego the sidesaddle.”