And the last time Sybil heard a snort of that sort…
No.It couldn’t be.She was mad.Imagining things.Had to be.
She leaned closer to the sleeping woman.
Her edges were glowing.The gown the bonnet, the graying brown hair bundled at the neck—they threw off sparks like tiny fireworks as their edges faded.
A glamour.
That meant either the woman usually wore a glamour, and it was fading as they moved farther away from the man who cast it, or… it wasn’t Miss Barker at all.
Stone had found her.
Or…
That snort.
Sybil settled back into the squabs, curling her hands into her skirts.“Miss Barker, your glamour is fading.”
Silence, then the slight rustle of fabric as the brown fading skirts moved, then, “Damn.”
Oh Hestia, she’d been right.
The chaperone sat upright, scowling at her—his—limbs.“Damn Morington.He promised the glamour would last for several hours more.But then he had to make it late last night with only moonlight, and moonlight makes for flimsier illusions.Well, now you know, I guess.I’d hoped to make it out of London at least before you found out.”
“Chester.”
“I insist you call me Apollo.I cannot handle an entire holiday being addressed as Chester.Will ruin it, actually.”
He looked absurd.The glamour had dissolved from his face and body, but he still seemed to wear the garb of a lady.She could just see the top edge of his cravat poking out of the fake gown’s high neck.
“You rotten liar!Where is Miss Barker?”
“She’s fine.She’s been paid a large sum of money to take a holiday in Bath for an undetermined period of time.I’m going to owe Morington for the rest of my life, I’m afraid.He helped me with this disguise, too.For a hefty price.Though I might be able to talk him down a few hundred pounds by threatening to tell his wife about everything.”
“What do you want with me?Do you mean to take me back to Stone?”
“God no.I’m taking you right where Temple wants you.Yorkshire.Foggy Hill House.I’ve stowed away for purely personal reasons, princess.”
“I will not be seduced.”
He laughed.“Surprisingly, that’s not what I’m after.I’m here for your skill.I want you to teach me how to do alchemy.”
“Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t.I’m unmarried.You’re unmarried.It’s a scandal.I’d be ruined.”
“Your family is already ruined,” he said, slouching into the seat and spreading his legs wide, which spread his fading skirts wide.
“Ruined with one half of London only.I cannot afford to lose the other half.”
“You don’t need them.”He looked out the window.“Unless you have plans to marry?”
“It’s none of your business whether I plan to marry or not.”
“You do then.”
“No!Not precisely.”She couldn’t find the right words, felt wiggly and too confined.“If I met the right man… I should like to marry.If I travel with you, I lose that possibility.No man will have me.”As if he didn’t know that already.His lot—transcendents—made the rules and policed them.The problem was he clearly did not care.Theproblemwas he was a man, and the rules didn’t apply to him.Ever.
He snorted.“Then you shouldn’t have him.”
