Spellbreaker

“I’m sure you will succeed,” she tried, and Master Merton’s eyes gleamed with pleasure. “I think it a very good profession for a young lady.”

“Quite possibly,” the duchess echoed. She perked at footsteps in the hall. “Here we are. My dear Miss Camden, Mr. Kelsey will escort you. And Master Merton, I would be honored to have you on my left.”

“What a pleasure, my lady,” Master Merton enthused, clapping her hands. Her good cheer was such that Elsie couldn’t help but smile, too. “Oh, we have so much to talk about!”

The door on the near side of the room opened, revealing Mr. Kelsey. He held it for the duke, who noticed Elsie and grinned before shifting his attention to Master Merton and offering her a thorough welcome.

Mr. Kelsey approached Elsie as soon as he walked in. He looked a little irritated, but the lines in his tanned forehead smoothed themselves as he approached her. Goodness, it was easy to forget how large he was when not comparing him to normal-sized people. His eyes dropped to her skirt and back up, lingering, and Elsie couldn’t tell whether he approved or disapproved.

Not that it mattered. Indeed, it most certainly did not. Elsie had merely straightened her posture because her corset was pinching.

A duke, a duchess, their daughters, and a master aspector. Mr. Kelsey was the only thing bridging the gaping class barrier between Elsie and the rest, and even that bridge felt insurmountable.

Elsie spoke first, quietly. “I could not get away this morning. It all went to pot, giving me barely any chance to breathe. I will try my best tomorrow.”

Mr. Kelsey considered a moment before offering an arm. “Fair enough.”

Elsie eyed him, hesitant to lift her hand. “Fair enough? Just like that? No jabs or threats?”

“If you meant to go back on your word, you would not have come.”

She frowned and took his arm as the duke led the duchess toward the dining room, Master Merton beside them. As she watched them, she felt the bulk of Mr. Kelsey’s muscular arm against hers. Who would win if he were to arm wrestle Ogden?

Heat crept up her neck, but she ignored it, loosening her grip to keep her focus where she needed it. “I merely wished to try the elegant food that is sure to grace the duke’s—”

Spells.

Two of them. The first she’d noticed before—a forestlike scent that almost but not quite blended with his usual fragrance of newly cut wood and oranges. It was on Mr. Kelsey’s person, right there on his torso. But another spell lay beneath it, calm and muted, barely noticeable. She couldn’t identify it; the first enchantment was too pungent. But there were certainly two.

The second spell was so powerful that she couldn’t detect it with her usual senses—she simply felt its existence, not unlike the sensation one got when being watched. The only reason she’d noticed it now was because she stood so close to him.

Why? And why were there two?

“—table,” she finished, barely recalling what they’d been discussing. God help her, she needed to know what those spells were, but short of seducing Mr. Kelsey out of his clothing, she didn’t think she’d be able to pin it down.

Now she really needed to distract herself, for her errant thoughts were making her blaze like the bloody hearth. Elsie tucked the notion of secret spells into the back of her mind and thought very hard about snow.

Mr. Kelsey led her toward the door, and the sisters followed after them. Were this a real dinner party, there would have been two gentlemen to escort them. But it wasn’t, and the duke had already proved himself unusual by inviting her to dine with them in the first place.

On the taller side. She nearly snorted. And yet the banter had eased her nerves.

The dining room, of course, was as grand as the drawing room, though a little less busy in its décor. The table was not terribly large, and Elsie wondered if it had leaves to extend it, or if this was the smaller of two dining rooms. The duke sat on one end and the duchess on the other. Master Merton sat in the esteemed seat to the duchess’s left, and Bacchus sat to her right, with Elsie beside him. Across from Elsie sat Ida, and beside her, Josie.

Footmen brought out the first course. Elsie didn’t know what it was, but it smelled wonderful.

Cabbage, she reminded herself. Everyone else is eating cabbage.

“Bacchus tells me you’re from Brookley,” chirped the duke. “I’ve passed through the place. It has a certain charm to it.”

Elsie nodded, unsure how she felt about her personal information being shared. But of course Mr. Kelsey would have needed to relinquish something. “It does, Your Grace. I am very fortunate to be there.” She mentally kicked herself. If she admitted to her history in the workhouse, she’d surely be ousted from the table.

The duchess added, “He’s very tight-lipped about you.”

It took Elsie a second to realize she meant Bacchus, about her. She swallowed, suppressing relief. “Well, that is, we’re really just acquaintances.”