Epilogue
“There we go.” The voice in Pen’s ear sounded quite satisfied. Lord Carillon— the title was decidedly relevant at the moment— swung her into an open space on the dance floor. “My compliments to whoever is responsible for your dance training. And particularly to you for learning it so well.”
“My aunt, mostly. She teaches the girls at her school.” They were engaged in a waltz, decidedly on display.
Pen was clear that the role of this dance was to display the precise amount the elder Carillons approved of her when it came to their son.
“She’s looking forward to the chance to talk once the immediate festivities are over. ”
The overall effect of the dancing was rather impressive.
The men were in white tie, with a few scattered uniforms. The women were in a tumult of darker colours.
There were few strapless gowns, the sort that were becoming much more common in the non-magical fashion magazines.
The customs of Albion suggested covering that much exposed skin.
There was, however, a cascade of translucent silk or net layers over those shoulders.
Pen’s own dress had a broad framing neckline and sleeves, made of a glorious blue silk, and Mum had lent Pen pearl earrings and a necklace.
“A trifle awkward on the timing this year, yes.” Lord Carillon nodded amiably as they went by someone.
Pen glimpsed Edmund dancing with Ros through the other dancers.
Ros was saying something to him, and Edmund was looking entirely amused about whatever it was.
“Solstice obligations today. Christmas falling on a Saturday is, I gather, also a tad demanding in liturgical terms, as well as the other schedule complications.”
“Services Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, indeed.” She’d be home for those.
There was nowhere else she wanted to be.
But the Lords of the land and their Heirs— like the Carillons— had obligations here at the Council Keep on the solstice proper.
There’d be a party nearly every night somewhere or another between now and New Year’s Day.
Pen would be missing a number of those, given Christmas proper, but there were more in the offing.
The question for tonight was precisely how many, since apparently people had wanted a look at Pen before inviting her to several of the smaller gatherings.
As Edmund had put it, making sure she knew her manners.
But she and Edmund at least had come into the winter with the skills for sorting out their schedules in good practice.
He’d come back from his trip to Greece and Rome bursting with delight, not only over the travel but the threads of subterfuge inherent in his life.
The journals had made it easy to stay in touch.
While she’d decidedly missed his physical presence while he’d been gone, it had not dampened their romance one bit.
Besides, she’d had her own trip with a reading party, and he’d not have suited there at all.
Life had only improved once their Michaelmas term had started.
It had been full of far more pleasure than she’d had any right to expect.
Her apprenticeship was going swimmingly, and she was now more comfortable with both braille and the various mathematical expectations.
It was a challenge, but an achievable one, just the right thing.
Edmund had been able to relax, with his final examinations five terms in the future. There had been time for him to take up pavo competitions again, and she’d spent a string of surprisingly pleasant Sundays watching him play various matches. That would pick up again in the spring.
He’d turned out to be competitive, yes, but more about delighting in skilled play than needing to be the victor.
She found it charming to watch, and he neither expected her to understand all the nuances nor put her off if she asked a question.
There was also a certain satisfying aspect to looking at the larger patterns and statistics in the matches.
Pen suspected that within five years she’d have a great deal of that data in her head for future reference. That thought rather delighted her.
Between those things, there had somehow been a surprising amount of time to sit in a punt and chat and do their mutual reading.
There had certainly been more time than she’d expected in private.
She couldn’t stay over readily, even in his digs, but they’d made a great deal of long, lazy Saturday afternoons.
And, it turned out, at least an evening a week in his rooms with several alarms set to make sure she got back on time.
Pen had planned to stay at Ytene for at least a fortnight before Hilary Term began.
She and Edmund had a list of more erotic interests they were looking forward to exploring with that kind of privacy and space.
Lord Carillon nodded at someone who went past, and then Pen caught him looking studiously neutral as they made another turn. Once they were a good few feet away. “Someone I ought to know about?”
“Lowenna Ritt. She was unkind to Jasper Pride. We do not approve of such things. Even if it’s been more than a year now.
She also had an entirely unrealistic eye on Edmund.
Besides the previous, she’s both too young and not up to the family standard in several ways.
” That last came with a quick hint of almost impishness.
The more time she’d spent with Edmund’s father, the more she saw where Edmund got that from.
Then the music ended, and he brought her to a stop by Ursula and Jim Fortier. “Here we are.”
Edmund had brought his sister over, handing her off to his father, then holding out a hand to Ursula.
“As we arranged?” Ursula and Jim had married that autumn, late in October.
Jim had taken Ursula’s last name, a custom Pen still had to think about.
But Ursula was her uncle’s Heir, and there were traditions about such things.
Pen liked Jim rather a lot. He came from a farming family, and now was learning how to manage the various Fortier agricultural holdings.
The wedding had been an excellent reason to give up one of the lazy Saturdays.
As well as being part of Edmund’s— and Ursula’s, it turned out— plan to introduce Pen to that level of society.
Jim was not a showy dancer, but he led Pen out onto the floor again with a sense of his surroundings. He was certainly competent enough, guiding her through the next dance smoothly. “Doing all right? Ursula’s plotting, she always is. You get to say no to what she’s currently proposing to Edmund.”
Pen got swung around, a chance to see Edmund’s expression, which had a certain amount of what Pen could now recognise as him recalculating half a dozen things.
He caught her looking, raised an eyebrow, and said something back to Ursula that had her laughing out loud.
They, mind, were being rather more flashy in terms of the dancing.
Pen looked back at Jim to find him snorting comfortably. “Ursula’s laying out several parties you ought to go to. Next Monday, Wednesday, Friday, New Year’s, and then the Edgartons on New Year’s Day. That one is more relaxed, though.”
“Goodness.” Pen did in fact have enough frocks for all of them.
Mistress Castalia had made sure of that, along with Lady Lizzie.
It wasn’t expected that Pen dress to quite the degree a number of other women were here.
Lady Lizzie had made it clear many of them had pulled older frocks out of their closets, a deep wardrobe Pen wasn’t expected to have on her own.
Ros and Merry didn’t either, though of course they could draw on their mother, the attics at Ytene, and whatever else could be borrowed and remade. “Who?”
“I’ll let Edmund explain most of it, but there’s a knot of people a hair older than he is.
Established, some of them have children now.
A good place to begin to introduce yourself, and reasonably friendly.
” Jim nodded at someone, then added, “Are you counting how many people figure out who you are?”
“Edmund was.” They’d talked about it, but Pen felt she had enough to do with keeping track of names and categories of people. This time, as the dance ended, Jim handed her off to Edmund, then immediately swept Ursula off to some rather more energetic dancing.
Edmund snorted. “Dance, or a walk outside? They’ve charmed the courtyard for warmth, if you want a bit of fresh air.”
Magic certainly made some things more comfortable. “Tell me what you and Ursula were setting up, then.” Edmund laughed, claiming a glass of wine for Pen and one for himself as they went down the hall and out the main doors.
Once they’d found a corner that was not too full of other people, he obliged with more information. “Ursula was extending herself on your behalf. And mine. No obligation.”
“Jim said Monday, Wednesday, Friday, Saturday.” Pen added, “And then the Sunday, but I am less worried about that one.” She’d met most of the people who’d be at the Edgartons by now.
It firmly included Giles, Cammie, Kate, and Duncan.
She was even more comfortable with them. “You think it’s a good idea?”
“If you don’t mind terribly,” Edmund said.
“But the Hewitts are rather interested in meeting you, and their goodwill would go a long way. Ursula thinks you and Helios Thanet might get along well, and if so, that would be helpful for several ongoing plots. His father and Gabe Edgarton do not get along at all, but Helios is rather more reasonable. Also, an interest in maths of some kinds. I am not up on the details, but I’m sure you can sort that better. ”
“Likely.” Pen agreed, somewhat absently.
Maths as a topic covered rather a lot of ground, but she could in fact converse about most of that space intelligently.
Especially right now, with a range of Oxford lectures to draw on.
She took a breath. “All right. But you need to write up the briefs for me. I will not get much chance to do my own research until sometime on Sunday.”
“Of course. You may expect my— and Mama’s— best work shortly. She just needs to finish up a few notes, from what she said. Ursula gave her advance warning of the plotting.”
Pen shook her head, amused. “Your parents are fond of her, aren’t they? For her own reasons.”
“Oh, I think it’s partly that Ursula provides ongoing amusement in terms of the ripples in various social circles.
But she and I also amiably share Uncle Alexander.
I am certain Mama and Papa both enjoy watching him try to figure out what to do about what Ursula is up to now.
Me, I think that’s a tad exhausting sometimes.
I like my quieter pursuits. Speaking of, can you get away for— hmm? Next Tuesday, for the night?”
Pen laughed. “Oh, that’s what you want? Mum wants me back for some of it, but come home with you Monday, go home Thursday morning?
” It was a tad greedy of her, and she did also want to see her family.
But by then Dad would be back at work, at least some of the time.
She could say she was staying with friends in London or something like that.
“Grand. I’ll let people know.” Edmund let out a long breath.
“Thank you for putting up with this particular nonsense. I hope no one’s been difficult.
” That had a slight edge to it. As if Edmund would in fact go do something about that right now if she suggested a problem.
Or perhaps a slow, lingering way that would last far longer.
“Your father and Jim were most careful about that. A few people glared but I gather that was to be expected. Lowenna Ritt, and— who was the one last dance? Auburn hair, rather more cleavage on display than the average, aggressively perfumed?”
“Antigone Howell. I don’t think she’ll be an actual bother, but keep an eye on your food and drink.
She’s the sort who’d like to slip something to make you look foolish.
” Pen was at least now well up on that set of charms, practised at various events during term.
“Ah, I see Olive and Neville. Let me introduce you properly, ready?”
Pen nodded. They could do this together, and that was how she wanted it done. Edmund offered his arm. They deposited their glasses with one of the circulating staff with an empty tray, and he led her off to meet more necessary people.