“There’s no need to be.” She tipped her head to eye him balefully. “I have done nothing special beyond happening to be the recipient of a convenient prophecy.”
“What is given to you does not matter so much as how you use it.”
Charlotte paused to consider this. “Ihavealways thought I’d like to organize the League better. Tidy up our visiting schedule. Make a roster for bank robberies.”
Alex’s countenance wavered slightly, but he budged it into an encouraging smile. “That’s the spirit! Although... you told me the other day you wanted to use the amulet’s power to make the world beautiful. Even without it, you now have authority over a group of magic-wielding women. You could introduce some really significant changes to England.”
“True.” Her eyes lit up. “No corsets on weekends!”
Alex nodded, although with his face lowered to hide the expression thereon. “Good. That’s, er, good.”
“And maybe—just off the top of my head, you understand—diverting aristocrats’ resources to help street urchins?”
He looked up through his eyelashes at her. “There’s my witchy woman.”
She sighed, her expression darkening again. “No, it is hopeless. I shall from now on be bound in London, shrouded with secrets. No more adventures for me—and you, you hate witches. I cannot ask you to tie yourself to the woman who leads England’s coven.”
“Ah, Lottie.” He grasped her hand. “You’d be amazed by what I’m willing to do for you.”
Mrs. Pettifer, hearing this, overpoured milk into her tea and flooded the saucer. Charlotte felt the same thing happen in her heart. Tears welled up as she laid a hand to Alex’s stubbled jaw, stroking a thumb against its roughness.
“You are a good man, Captain O’Riley.”
He scowled, although his eyes glinted with humor. “Have a care for my reputation, madam, if you please.”
Straightening, Charlotte brushed the creases from her skirt. “Very well, let’s do this. Let’s bring in a new era of greatness, as prophesized.”
They smiled at each other.
And the drawing room door burst open.
“Darlings, do I have news for you!”
26
a new order—charlotte shines a light—the old order—charlotte finally sees the dark—alex ruins everything—fear and longing—charlotte has the last word
We three meet again!” Miss Gloughenbury declared as she sailed into the room. Beneath one arm she carried something that approximated a poodle, although it was bald in some places, singed in others, and one leg had been reattached backward. Seeing Alex sitting on the sofa beside Charlotte, she frowned. “Er, we four, it seems. Charlotte, darling, is this pirate fellow begging for mercy, moments before you have him poisoned or suffocated?”
Before Charlotte could respond, a hurly-burly filled the doorway. Amongst the stripes, spots, chintz, and feathers, three ladies could be perceived, struggling to enter in an order of precedence none could agree upon. Woollery, coming behind them with a laden tea tray, announced belatedly the arrival of not only Miss Gloughenbury but Mrs. Chuke, Mrs. Vickers, and, er, Miss Smith—the latter of whom no one quite recognized, due to the fact she was Bloodhound Bess in disguise, come along for the adventure and to see if these witches had anything worth stealing.
Miss Gloughenbury stated the obvious: “We have returned to London. We caught a ride with a sweet old lady by the name of Miss Monster, and came immediately to give our report. Burning houses! The amulet gone forever! And Charlotte getting up to the most extraordinary—”
The grandfather clock standing behind Miss Gloughenbury began to rock. But before that good lady could meet a timely end, Mrs. Pettifer stepped forward to announce, “Judith has gone!”
The witches gasped with a passable rendition of dismay. The clock settled. Mrs. Pettifer, enjoying something about her sister for the first time in forty-eight years, grinned merrily. “Before she departed, Judith passed her authority on to Charlotte. Ladies, behold your new leader.”
With a flourish, she indicated Charlotte, who smiled weakly and waved from the sofa.
If the witches felt horror at this turn of events, one might blink and therefore be entirely unaware of it. They transformed their countenances with impressive speed into happy smiles, and crowding further into the room, proclaimed that it was marvelous news!—Charlotte was an excellent young woman!—the League was in ideal hands!—and other random superlatives that were entirely, wholeheartedly applicable to this situation! Charlotte hurried to her feet before the enthusiasm suffocated her. Alex, following suit, found himself literally bustled to one side.
“What a splendid president you will make, darling,” Miss Gloughenbury said, grasping Charlotte’s hand and beating it up and down in an aggressive handshake. “And as for Judith, I do not wish to speak ill of the dead—”
“She’s only left the country,” Mrs. Pettifer interjected.
“Ah.” Miss Gloughenbury had the decency to not look too disappointed. “Well, she shall be missed indeed. Hm, ladies?”
“Hm,” they agreed through tight lips.
