ㅤ
I had told Mira over breakfast that Evelyn and I had agreed to call each other boyfriend and girlfriend. Her next question was whether Evelyn was still my girlfriend.
ㅤ
“Yes.”
ㅤ
“Even though she went home?”
ㅤ
“That doesn't stop it.”
ㅤ
She considered this over breakfast. “Good. Because I forgot to tell her Sir Flopsy liked the tarts.”
ㅤ
“He can tell her next time.”
ㅤ
“He's shy.”
ㅤ
I was washing our cups when someone knocked. Mrs. Alder stood outside with a basket of clean linen and a warning that rain was expected by evening. She had come to collect a blanket she'd lent us during the move.
ㅤ
I asked whether she might watch Mira for an hour or two that afternoon. Evelyn and I wanted to walk together, and Mrs. Fenwick didn't take children on Sundays.
ㅤ
“Two hours,” Mrs. Alder said. “And you can carry this basket upstairs for me first.”
ㅤ
Mira looked from her to me. “Is it another date?”
ㅤ
“It is.”
ㅤ
“Then you should wear the shirt without the ink.”
ㅤ
Mrs. Alder inspected my sleeve. “The child's right.”
ㅤ
I carried the basket.
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
Evelyn was waiting outside the little bakery near the canal. She wore a pale scarf over her silver hair and had a book tucked under one arm. When she saw me, she closed it without marking her page.
ㅤ
“Was Mira disappointed?” she asked.
ㅤ
“She gave me permission to leave after I promised to bring back a report.”
ㅤ
“On what?”
ㅤ
“Whether you liked yesterday.”
ㅤ
Evelyn slipped her hand into mine. “Tell her I did.”
ㅤ
We walked toward the water. A few people turned to look at her, then at me. One young man in an academy coat recognized us and lifted his hand in greeting. I returned it. Evelyn didn't let go.
ㅤ
“I suppose that's one way of telling people,” I said.
ㅤ
“I wasn't planning an announcement.”
ㅤ
“Neither was I.”
ㅤ
“If someone asks, I won't deny it.”
ㅤ
“Good. I'd hate to discover I imagined last night.”
ㅤ
She gave my hand a squeeze. “You didn't.”
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
The canal path was quieter than it had been on our first date. We stopped at a stall selling roasted chestnuts, shared a paper cone, and found a bench beneath a tree that had begun dropping yellow leaves.
ㅤ
Evelyn asked how I'd learned to cook for myself. I told her about the first time I'd tried to make soup in a pot too small for the vegetables. She laughed when I admitted I'd eaten it with a fork because I'd forgotten to buy a spoon.
ㅤ
“Who taught you afterward?”
ㅤ
“Mostly people who were tired of seeing me get it wrong.”
ㅤ
“Your family?”
ㅤ
I shook my head. “I don't have parents to go back to. I grew up without them.”
ㅤ
She stopped turning the chestnut in her fingers.
ㅤ
“You never mentioned that.”
ㅤ
“It doesn't come up often.”
ㅤ
“I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to pry.”
ㅤ
“You asked a normal question.”
ㅤ
There were things about my childhood I couldn't explain without talking about another world. I could tell her what was true of the life I lived now: no family house waiting for me, no inheritance, no relative who could take Mira for a weekend when I ran out of money or sleep.
ㅤ
“When I got this apartment,” I said, “Mr. Pell was the person who checked whether the stove worked. That's about the size of my family network.”
ㅤ
“And Mrs. Alder?”
ㅤ
“She'd object if I left her out.”
ㅤ
Evelyn smiled, but she didn't rush to fill the silence. I appreciated that.
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
“My mother died when I was younger,” she said eventually.
ㅤ
“I remember you told me about the ribbon she made.”
ㅤ
Evelyn touched the end of her scarf. “Father kept the house running. He was very good at making certain nothing changed in public. At home, it was harder.”
ㅤ
“Were you close?”
ㅤ
“To Mother? Yes. To Father, in a different way.”
ㅤ
She told me that he had once spent an entire afternoon helping her learn a difficult flame-control exercise, then left before supper because a provincial delegation had arrived. She'd been furious with him for a week. Years later, he'd still remembered the exercise, including the part she'd struggled with.
ㅤ
“He notices more than people think,” she said. “He just doesn't always know what to do with what he notices.”
ㅤ
“Does he know about us?”
ㅤ
“Not yet.”
ㅤ
She looked at our joined hands. “He will.”
ㅤ
I waited. She'd brought up her father for a reason, and I didn't want to guess the rest for her.
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
“My father is Duke Rosenfeld,” she said. “You know that, of course. But I don't think I've explained what it means for me.”
ㅤ
“I know it means he has opinions about whom you marry.”
ㅤ
“Opinions, plans, and people who are paid to turn the plans into appointments.”
ㅤ
“That sounds exhausting.”
ㅤ
“It can be useful. I won't pretend I haven't benefited from it.”
ㅤ
She set the empty paper cone beside her on the bench. “He considers my magic important to the family. He's spent years arranging tutors, introductions, and opportunities for me. He won't regard my choice of partner as something that concerns only me.”
ㅤ
“And I'm a commoner.”
ㅤ
“Yes.” She met my eyes. “He will care about that. He will care about your money, your lack of relatives, and the fact that we met through work he didn't arrange.”
ㅤ
“I'm starting to see why you brought a book. You could have handed me a written warning.”
ㅤ
“Adrian.”
ㅤ
“I know. I'm listening.”
ㅤ
She took a breath. “I don't want you to hear about this from someone at the academy who thinks they're doing you a favor. And I don't want you to think I was keeping you separate from my life because I was ashamed of you.”
ㅤ
“I hadn't thought that.”
ㅤ
“I'm glad. I still needed to say it.”
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
A boat passed beneath the footbridge. We watched its wake reach the bank and break against the stones.
ㅤ
“What happens when you tell him?” I asked.
ㅤ
“I expect he'll ask me to reconsider.”
ㅤ
“And when you don't?”
ㅤ
“He may ask to meet you.”
ㅤ
“That sounds reasonable.”
ㅤ
“Meeting you and deciding whether you're suitable are two different things.”
ㅤ
I rubbed my thumb over her knuckles. “Do you want to wait before telling him?”
ㅤ
“Until when?”
ㅤ
“I don't know. After Tuesday's seminar, perhaps. I'd rather not give him the chance to turn up in the middle of it.”
ㅤ
“He wouldn't do that.”
ㅤ
“Good.”
ㅤ
“He'd send someone with a letter.”
ㅤ
I looked at her. She was serious, though the corner of her mouth had lifted.
ㅤ
“After Tuesday,” she agreed. “But not because we're hiding. I want to speak to him myself, without having to do it between lectures.”
ㅤ
“Will you tell him about Mira?”
ㅤ
“Not without talking to you first.”
ㅤ
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. Mira's provisional dependent registration was one thing. A ducal household asking questions about a child who called Evelyn her mother was another.
ㅤ
“Thank you.”
ㅤ
“She matters to me,” Evelyn said. “That doesn't give me the right to decide what everyone should know about her.”
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
We walked again when the wind grew colder. Near the bridge, Evelyn stopped at a display of cheap hair ribbons. She held a yellow one against her sleeve, then put it back.
ㅤ
“For Mira?” I asked.
ㅤ
“She has one she likes.”
ㅤ
“She likes all of them.”
ㅤ
“I'll ask her next time.”
ㅤ
There was something I wanted to ask too, and the longer I waited, the more awkward it became.
ㅤ
“When you said your father might ask to meet me—do you want me to come?”
ㅤ
“Of course.”
ㅤ
“Even if he tells me to leave?”
ㅤ
“He can tell you. I can't promise he'll be pleasant.”
ㅤ
“I can survive an unpleasant conversation.”
ㅤ
“I know.” She turned to face me. “What I need you to understand is that I won't let him speak for me. But I also don't want you deciding that leaving me would make my life easier without asking what I think.”
ㅤ
“I wouldn't make that decision for you.”
ㅤ
“Good.”
ㅤ
She waited, and I understood that she wanted more than a quick answer.
ㅤ
“If this becomes difficult,” I said, “we talk about it together. I won't disappear because someone with a title tells me it's the considerate thing to do.”
ㅤ
Her shoulders eased. “That's what I wanted to hear.”
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
We returned before Mrs. Alder's two hours were up. Evelyn walked with me as far as the courtyard, where the marigolds had begun to bend under the cooler weather.
ㅤ
“Will you come upstairs?” I asked.
ㅤ
“I should go back. I promised to review the seminar diagrams tonight.”
ㅤ
“I'll bring mine tomorrow.”
ㅤ
“Before your tutoring, please. I have a practical in the afternoon.”
ㅤ
“Before tutoring,” I agreed.
ㅤ
She kissed me quickly, then stepped away before I could forget we were standing beneath Mr. Pell's window.
ㅤ
“Tell Mira I liked the honey bread.”
ㅤ
“And the date?”
ㅤ
“Especially the date.”
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
Mrs. Alder was sitting at our table when I returned. Mira had covered three pages with drawings of rabbits wearing different hats.
ㅤ
“Was it good?” Mira asked.
ㅤ
“Yes.”
ㅤ
“Did you tell Mommy about Sir Flopsy?”
ㅤ
“I told her you wanted to report on the tarts.”
ㅤ
“Did she laugh?”
ㅤ
“A little.”
ㅤ
Mira nodded, satisfied. Mrs. Alder gathered her things and accepted my thanks with a reminder to bring back the basket I'd borrowed.
ㅤ
When we were alone, Mira asked whether Evelyn would visit again that evening.
ㅤ
“Not tonight. I can ask whether she has time to see us after classes tomorrow.”
ㅤ
“That's a long time.”
ㅤ
“It's until tomorrow.”
ㅤ
“For a rabbit, that's long.”
ㅤ
I couldn't argue with an expert. I helped her put the drawings away, then opened my notebook to check what needed doing before the seminar.
ㅤ
At the top of the page, beside the moving-target diagram, I'd written Monday: inspect letter sleeve with Miss Vale. Tuesday: seminar. Thursday: specialist, if approved.
ㅤ
I added one more reminder beneath them: ask Evelyn how she wants to tell her father.
ㅤ
Mira leaned over my shoulder. “What does that say?”
ㅤ
“Something I need to talk to Evelyn about.”
ㅤ
“Can Sir Flopsy help?”
ㅤ
“Not with this one.”
ㅤ
She gave him a sympathetic pat and went back to her drawings.