Chapter 23 #2
“I went back through— you know they have photographers at these sorts of dances. The fancier ones. I went back through this year’s.
Miss Styles has been with three other men, the sort of visible public way.
I couldn’t go back before Trinity last year.
They keep only the last three full terms handy for the Cherwell.
I’d have to put in a request not on a Sunday for the older ones.
I made note of the issues if you want to have a look yourself. ”
Edmund leaned back. “That was an excellent thought.” It was what Mama would do in that situation. Edmund had not yet worked around to it being useful or necessary to ask her. “Did you write down the names?”
Pen passed another neat list over to him, and Edmund frowned over it. “I know one of these has had some troubles. Possibly two. I only heard it by nickname, and there are at least three people getting called Iggers right now for some reason. What do we think about Walter Darcy?”
“I think that Miss Styles had an entirely predatory sort of look about her. Was she using magic, do you think?” Pen asked it cheerfully now, as if she had her teeth properly into the puzzle, and Edmund very much found himself enjoying that in her.
When she was not defensively on edge, and instead letting her brains shine, she was far more interesting.
“As you pointed out, she was doing her best to make sure I didn’t see what she was doing.
What makes you say predatory? I’m not arguing with the description.
” Edmund held up his fingers before she could rightfully protest. “I didn’t see it, so I’m relying on your terms. Something in that might indicate what she was doing.
If anything.” Then he added, “Let me pour the coffee, you talk.”
Pen Stirling had an excellent eye, it turned out.
She had been hampered by the crowds, which had not let her get a clear look at any given moment.
Some part of Miss Styles and Mr Darcy had been obscured every time she’d seen them.
But she had a solid commentary on some of the gestures, the angles of their bodies, how Miss Styles would murmur something and Darcy would lean into her, or change course.
Nothing in it was certain, nothing that could be taken to the Guard if it were magic or the authorities at the University if it weren’t. But it was telling. Edmund pushed the cup of coffee toward Pen, and took his own, giving her a moment to appreciate it.
She let out a little pleased sound, another sign she was more relaxed with him now. “How did you make it?”
“A thing called a French press. Much handier if you have a kettle but not a stove. Uncle Alexander burns a candle at every imaginable end. We have a much better time if I can provide coffee as needed.” Edmund hesitated, then said, “I’d be glad to provide both a press and some coffee for your use, if you’d like, and wouldn’t think it overstepping. ”
That brought her up short, then she swallowed. “Let me think about that. Before I answer you, what did you see?”
“Besides the people trying to force other people’s fun, and a number of people eyeing you hopefully.
” He was certain she hadn’t particularly noticed that one either, and the way her eyes widened made him certain.
“Several pieces of jewellery that ought to be stone and were in fact paste or glass. Well-made copies, with magic to hide it, but it’s simple to spot if you know to look. ”
“You had those rumours of pieces going missing. From non-magical folks?” Pen was following the thread now, the brief disruption of the offer of coffee smoothed over. He nodded. “How did you know how to spot it? Or who to look at?”
“Mama makes a study of that kind of thing. These weren’t major pieces, but they were pieces that women from those families would wear in this sort of setting. All women with brothers at Oxford or recently, or seeing Oxford men.”
“Huh.” Pen sipped the coffee again, looked at the cup, and sighed. “I’m going to say yes to your offer. I oughtn’t. But this really does taste lovely. Just the thing for late-night studies.”
“I find it so,” Edmund said agreeably. “It will take me a day or three, probably, but I shall have something for you soon.”
There was a short pause. “And the frock? They were— Mistress Castalia was terrifyingly thorough and efficient.”
“She is excellent.” Edmund hesitated before adding, “I call her Aunt Cassie. She’s married to Master Benton, who’s been the estate steward since before I was born, and in Papa’s service for years before that.
It was why I could beg the favour. Aunt Cassie really adores helping someone dress for a specific occasion.
Especially right now, the clothes rationing has made it a bit more complex. ”
“She was, would you tell her, please, then, that I was overwhelmed but also delighted? And surprisingly comfortable for a party frock. Whatever of that she’d find pleasant to hear?” Pen met his eyes then, cautiously, and Edmund beamed at her.
“Of course. I will also give a glowing description of how well it suited you. And how it suited you in a way that meant you glowed, rather than being someone wearing a fancy frock and the frock getting all the notice. They’re two quite different things.”
It got him another of those dubious expressions, but she followed this one with something of a smile, so he did not press the matter. Instead, she said, “What do we do now?”
“I would like to do a bit of research and ask a few people for sources I can’t access on my own.
Would you mind doing a little of your own, about Miss Styles?
Or any of those men, do you have the list?
Here, let me make a copy of that for you.
” He printed it out from his notes on the desk, the broad letters borrowing a little from Greek in particular around the e and d. “There you go.”
“I’ll— this is an interesting sort of mystery. And annoying. I’d like to keep sorting it out. I suppose it might be nothing. Do you get fancies sometimes, seeing a mystery that isn’t there?”
“Sometimes. But I’ve also seen mysteries that are there.
I agree that this one is worth a little more time.
Perhaps we might meet up on Wednesday or Thursday?
I should have some further information back.
I want to check with a friend in the Guard about what might be actionable on their end.
If, for example, Miss Styles were enchanting Darcy. I see him on Tuesday.”
Pen nodded. “Let me finish this coffee, then I’ll take myself off to the library again. You seem to have work waiting to be done.”
“Oh, always.” Edmund kept his tone light. “But a change is as good as a rest, that’s the saying. And this has been a pleasant one. Last night, as well.”
She raised an eyebrow, but took the conversation off onto asking more about what he was studying in particular right now, rather than anything about recent events. He asked her about her work, of course, as well. That occupied them until the coffee was gone, and he walked her downstairs.
Edmund came down at half-four with enough of his work done.
He put through a package for Ytene of the frock and copies of his notes so far and a packet of inquiries addressed to his mother.
None of them were about Pen directly, but he had found it difficult to put thoughts of her aside to do his work.
The conversations with her made him want to reach for something, to find perhaps an excuse for more time together.