Chapter 30
Thirty
It was downright frightening, how thoroughly Jack wore his mask of nonchalance. As the carriage pulled up to Clarity Hall
with their strange party of six, Jack’s gray eyes were clear and alert, without any dark circles beneath them. No sign of
any special regard for Emmy, either, as he grinned at them with a polished bravado that made her chest ache. “Ready?”
Before anyone could answer, the Windsors’ footmen swung open the carriage door and they were surrounded by the Society of
the Charmed wearing head-to-toe gold. Golden suits and gowns, golden top hats, golden gloves stretching past the women’s elbows.
Glittering gold bracelets and chokers and pins and rings. Several ladies even had sparkling golden paint in their hair, giving
the illusion of dozens of Graces, which was more than a little unsettling.
Jack had insisted their outfits go all out, too, and Emmy hadn’t resisted. By now, she knew how seriously the Society took
their themed events—and she did not want to disagree with Jack while things between them felt like they might shatter at any
moment. So she’d transformed their garb to gold, including Mary’s uniform. She’d even conjured Agnes’s and Tobias’s clothing
so that they looked like gilded court jesters: pointed hats and shoes, ruffled golden collars, even a thin layer of gold paint
to their skin, making them look like walking statues.
The guards stationed by the front door took one glance at the gilded strangers and stopped them immediately.
“They’re performers, approved by the chancellor himself.” Jack curved his lips. “Before his death, of course.”
The guards bristled, studying Agnes and Tobias suspiciously. Before she’d painted their skin golden, Emmy had altered their
faces, but Agnes still glared at them.
After deliberating among themselves, the guards waved them inside, and Jimmy took Emmy’s arm. The knots in her stomach loosened
a smidge.
“Be careful,” Mary whispered, squeezing Emmy’s elbow before slipping behind a column—and disappearing entirely, using her
invisibility to weave through Clarity Hall undetected. She’d have to use it sparingly—a minute, here and there—but Mary knew
how to blend into the crowd, remaining undetected as she shadowed Grace. In a half hour, she’d check back in with a full report.
The first ball of the summer had been along Clarity Hall’s sweeping pavilion, but the last was in the neighboring ballroom,
with the translucent glass wall that overlooked the Hudson. Tonight, a jaw-dropping golden waterfall stood in its place. Molten
gold cascaded from the ceiling, tumbling in mesmerizing waves that caught the candlelight.
“An illusion,” Jack said in a low voice as he joined her and Jimmy in the doorway.
Of course. Grace must have bridged the glass with Villadom conjury. “I’d be more impressed if it sounded like a waterfall.” The rushing water was eerily silent.
Jack tried to smile, which was far worse than if he’d simply ignored her. Their eyes met, and he looked away.
Swallowing her sigh, Emmy followed him deeper into the Golden Gala, passing an enormous gold-frosted cake that was taller than even Jimmy, who was now shaking hands with Mr. Zermatt, another potential millionaire client.
As Tobias and Agnes gawked at the cake, the other Society members pointed to them, whispering behind their golden gloves about the strange interlopers dressed as pint-size entertainers.
Emmy, meanwhile, searched the sea of golden curls for Grace.
“She’ll be here,” Jack murmured. “After all, this is her palace.”
His words were laced with bitterness, but his smile snapped into place, and he was off, making his rounds among the Society
of the Charmed. It felt wrong not to follow—not to take his hand and offer some sort of comfort—but that was precisely the
problem.
“Miss Fairchild!” Mrs. Windsor touched Emmy’s elbow, greeting her with a tentative smile. “How lovely you look! And your brother
is expected to make a full recovery, I hear?”
“He is.” As Emmy returned Mrs. Windsor’s smile, she searched her face for any resemblance to her niece. Their pale blue eyes,
perhaps. Her button nose. “And what about Miss Montgomery? She was struck in the arm, yes?”
“The bullet missed, fortunately.” Her eyes watered as she squeezed Emmy’s hands. “We owe you tremendous gratitude for that.”
For Papa’s conjury, more like. “I did what anyone would do.”
“Most people would have thought only of protecting themselves, but you thought of Grace. Which, if I may be frank, Miss Fairchild,
is even more impressive given that there was little warmth between my niece and you this summer. But perhaps, with Oliver
Stratton out of the picture, that might change?”
There was a note of desperation in her voice, one that surprised Emmy. “I’d like that,” Emmy said carefully. “Perhaps Grace
and I could have a word?” After Grace had skipped or been tardy to so many events this summer, Emmy would breathe easier once
she had eyes on her.
Mrs. Windsor’s smile faltered. “I’d like that very much, but—I’m afraid Grace might miss tonight’s festivities.”
Her words were sandpaper over Emmy’s nerves. Their entire plan hinged upon Grace being here. “Is she all right?”
“Oh, Miss Fairchild. This has been a difficult summer, indeed. She cries herself to sleep most nights. And in the morning, she locks herself in her room all day. She did that this morning, and a few hours ago, I had the footmen break down the door, but she was gone.” Mrs. Windsor glanced around, her expression pained.
“It’s unfair of me to ask for your help, but—you saved her life. Perhaps
that could be a new beginning for the two of you. She could really use a friend.”
Good lord. Emmy hardly knew what to say. Part of her longed to tell Mrs. Windsor the truth—that Grace had spent the summer
sneaking off to do the chancellor’s bidding—but they needed to reveal a far more personal crime tonight: that Grace, whom
her aunt loved, had a hand in her daughter’s death. Either way, Mrs. Windsor would be devastated.
Emmy offered a shaky smile. “I’d be glad to.”
“Good.” With a final squeeze, she let go of Emmy’s hands. “Ah, there’s my maid. Perhaps Grace has been found.”
Emmy watched Mrs. Windsor cut through the crowd, disappearing from the ballroom. From his circle of potential clients, Jimmy
raised his brows, but Emmy gave her head a small shake.
Tobias slipped his hand into Emmy’s gloved one and showed no signs of letting go. With him in tow, and his sister glaring
from a few steps behind, Emmy made her way to the other young women, exchanging air kisses and answering their questions about
the gilded court jesters with a mischievous “You’ll see.” She greeted Mrs. Stratton’s friends, who were still picking through
the bones of the Strattons’ ruin, reviewing all the times they had found the new widow’s temperament unbecoming.
“Excuse me, everyone.” Keeper Windsor stood in the entrance to the ballroom, tapping his champagne glass with a spoon. “I
have a few announcements to make. Grace, dear? Join me.”
Emmy could have collapsed with relief as Grace finally glided into the ballroom. Scanning the party, Emmy looked for Jack, but he was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Mary, though Emmy was dying for a report on Grace’s whereabouts at the start of the ball.
Like all the other ladies’ gowns, Grace’s was golden, though hers was several shades darker, nearly bronze. A diamond-encrusted
gold tiara was perched upon her shiny blonde curls. Her fingers were adorned with delicate gold rings, and her wrists with
gold bracelets, though her only necklace was the relic she claimed was her father’s.
All that jewelry. A new arsenal, waiting at her fingertips.
Keeper Windsor motioned for Grace to stand beside him, and she obliged, Mrs. Windsor flanking her other side.
“This year’s Golden Gala marks the end of what has been a rather dramatic season, to say the least,” Keeper Windsor said,
and nervous laughter rumbled through the crowd. “Deceptions were revealed. Loyalties have been called into question. And tomorrow,
we leave Avalon-on-Hudson with a pressing duty hanging over us: the election of two new members of the triumvirate. I will
pass along information about the nomination process later this evening.”
“Once he’s done speaking, it’s our turn,” Jack whispered, and Emmy flinched. He was beside her now, his hand on Tobias’s shoulder,
his steely gaze on Grace.
You’ve just given me a whole new reason to hate Grace Montgomery.
It was the perfect time to address the crowd, with the Windsors and Grace front and center and the Society already gathered
around, but dread pooled in Emmy’s core. There was so much that could still go wrong.
“Now, on a personal note, Mrs. Windsor and I would like to share some special news.”
Jack’s eyes met Emmy’s, his confusion a mirror of her own.
Hand in hand, the Windsors stood before Grace. “My sweet niece, you have been a part of our family since the day you were
born.”
A lie. Until she was accepted into the Society, they’d ignored her.
“You treated Elizabeth like a sister.” His voice cracked. “And you shepherded us through the dark days that followed her passing.”
A murmur swept through the guests. They hadn’t forgotten Oliver’s confession, and with it, the uncertainties of what, exactly,
had happened the night Elizabeth had died.
“To end this eventful season on a celebratory note, we’d like to formalize your place in our family. You’ll become Grace Windsor,
if you’ll have us.”
A gasp passed through the crowd. Parents eyed their eligible sons, who stood taller. For her part, Grace managed to look perfectly
surprised. She wrapped one arm around her uncle, and the other around her aunt, and applause spread through the ballroom.
For a long time, Emmy had wanted the Windsors to acknowledge Grace, if not to sweep in and save her from her neglectful mother.