Spellbreaker (Spellbreaker Duology #1) - Charlie N. Holmberg Page 0,35
she had this job to worry about!
She pressed her forehead to the cool wood of the door. This was some sort of twisted nightmare. Blackmailed by an aspector and invited to dinner by a duke. The latter was unheard of. She was no gentlewoman! Even her finest dress wouldn’t suit their table. Surely the man hadn’t mistaken her for someone of rank, so what was he getting at?
The duke would ask questions. Barrage her with them. He’d judge her. His whole family would judge her—
“Elsie, whatever is the matter?”
Pulling her forehead from the door, Elsie turned to see a very concerned-looking Emmeline standing in the doorway of the studio. Elsie slumped.
“Oh, I wish I could tell you. But on top of it all, I have a dinner invitation.” It would be unbelievably rude to ignore the invitation. The man didn’t actually know her . . . but he was a duke, for heaven’s sake!
Elsie drew a harsh breath through her nose. Look on the bright side. It will provide an opportunity to determine just what spell Mr. Kelsey is hiding on his person. Perhaps he was secretly older than the duke and merely used magic to make himself appear so rugged and masculine. Stupid spellmaker and his stupid rich friends.
Emmeline lit up like a child on Christmas morning. “Dinner invitation? With whom, the vicar?”
Elsie snorted. “You would never believe it.”
Emmeline hurried across the room and grabbed Elsie’s hands. “Do tell me.”
“I have to visit the quarryman.”
“Oh, Elsie, you’ve time to tell me quickly. Please.”
She chewed on the inside of her cheek a moment. “Well, I met this aspector in . . . town . . . and he apparently works for the Duke of Kent—”
“The Duke of Kent!” Emmeline squealed. Elsie might have as well were their positions switched. But gossip involving oneself was nowhere near as interesting as digging into someone else’s business.
“And I’m to come to dinner, and if I say no . . . Who says no to a duke?” Elsie might have cried.
“A duke!” Emmeline had stars in her eyes. “This is absolutely wild!” Emmeline spun about. “Was the man very handsome?”
Elsie flushed. “Handsome? He’s quite old—”
Her friend rolled her eyes. “Not the duke, you ninny. The aspector! What’s his alignment?”
“Uh . . .” Elsie glanced around the studio, if only to take her eyes from Emmeline. “Well, he’s not a bad-looking fellow.”
“This is so exciting. You must go, and you must tell me all about it. You’ll head to the quarry right away, and I’ll rush through my chores so I can do your hair.”
Elsie touched her pinned locks. Emmeline hadn’t done her hair for a long time. Not since Alfred—
Alfred can choke on a rotten tart, she told herself, but it didn’t soothe the sourness in her belly.
She stiffened. “I am certainly not looking for affection, Em.” And Mr. Kelsey would certainly have none for her if she showed up too late to do any of her prison work.
The maid released Elsie’s hands. Of course, Emmeline knew all about Alfred and that nonsense. Elsie needn’t have snapped at her. But her friend’s natural good cheer pushed through. “But it’s not a bad thing, having a reason to fancy up.”
Elsie folded her arms. “I own nothing fancy enough for a duke’s table.”
“I think you’re fancy.” She beamed.
Elsie smiled. Considered. Sighed. “You’re right, I might as well make the best of it.” Maybe a few well-placed words would embarrass Mr. Kelsey right out of their spoken contract. “Would you . . . keep an eye out for any messengers or telegrams?” Though it was unlikely at this late hour, she still prayed for a cancellation.
“You’re expecting something from Juniper Down?”
The name of the place where she’d last seen her family hit her chest like a blow. Time had softened that wound, but it still sat there, a faded memory that made Elsie feel small. She was in a strange state of mind this afternoon, like she had a bad head cold that made her sensitive to everything around her. “Something like that,” she muttered.
Emmeline nodded. Elsie accepted her chatelaine bag, found a good hat to place on her head, and ventured out into the streets for the quarryman.
She thought up her excuses as she went.
No cancellation arrived from the duke’s residence, so Elsie found herself in her best dress at Seven Oaks that evening.
Wasn’t this everything she hated? Everything she stood against? The wealthy snacking on crumpets in the comfort of their mansions while the poor