Chapter 20
In Which a Governess (and Perhaps a Marquess) Embark on a Second Middle-of-the-Night Foray …
Sir Bedivere Ponsonby’s ring was ensorcelled. There was no doubt in Mina’s mind now as she scurried like a frightened rabbit back to Christopher’s bedroom in Fitzwilliam House.
By the time she’d teleported back to her own room at Kinsale House, and Unglamified her appearance, she’d also decided that her conclusion was indeed correct: The black eye had to belong to Queen Mab. Mina would stake her life on it.
Although, thank heavens Mab hadn’t recognized Mina.
Even if Mab told Sir Bedivere that he’d been spied upon by a young woman wearing a Fae glamour, even if he put two and two together and deduced that it was his ward’s former governess, he still didn’t know where she was residing in London. Or if she was even in London at all.
What was abundantly clear to Mina now was that the evil Fae queen was controlling Sir Bedivere through the cursed ring. Making him act out of character.
Lady Grenfell and her prophetic dream had been right.
But why did Queen Mab want the baronet to take his ward to the Arctic? Was that where the queen was currently holding court? And what did she really want with Christopher? Why was the young viscount her target?
None of it made any sense to Mina. She was out of her depth and terrified.
She needed help.
As she took the carpetbag of Christopher’s things to his bedroom, she wondered what would happen if she went to Mrs. Temple and confessed all. Everything she’d done.
What she’d learned tonight.
The Fae—and Good Queen Maeve—must be on her side at least a little bit because why else would they furnish her with a Glamify potion a second time?
But what if you’re wrong about the Fae’s support? What if it was all just a coincidence that a “bespoke” Glamify potion materialized in your pocket?
Oh, Mina wished Emmeline was back in London.
But really, it wasn’t just about what would Emmeline do. It was really about what she, Mina Davenport, would do. The path she took, her next steps, were her responsibility and hers alone.
The pertinent question was, which direction would she take? And of course, where would she end up? Would this risky venture she’d embarked on—all to protect a little boy from dark forces—end well or in utter disaster?
And how long could she keep Christopher safe, all on her own, without any other help?
Mina hardly knew. When she entered Christopher’s bedroom, all was well. All was how she’d left it. The little boy was snuggled up with his mauve rabbit and the butterfly rested above his head upon the pillow. It fluttered its lilac-hued wings as though in greeting.
She quickly and quietly unpacked the boy’s clothes and toys and placed his favorite pillow on the bedside armchair.
The small mantel clock declared the time to be just after half past twelve.
She should go to bed and get some sleep, but she also suspected her mind would be abuzz with everything she’d learned tonight.
And possible plans about what she should do next to best protect her charge.
A sound in the hallway—a heavy footstep and the creak of a floorboard made Mina jump and her heart stumbled. It couldn’t be anyone or anything sinister, she reassured herself. She was simply on edge because of what had just occurred at Fitzwilliam House.
But there was definitely someone outside Christopher’s bedroom. Perhaps it was Tom Fleet, venturing out as he sometimes did.
Mina poked her head out the door and instead of encountering Tom, she locked eyes with Lord Kinsale.
Brutus, who was at his heels, gave a gruff little bark. What would ye be doin’ up at this hour? the pug asked accusingly. Shouldn’t ye be in bed?
Mina ignored him and instead spoke to his master in a low voice.
“Lord Kinsale,” she said, exiting Christopher’s bedroom and gently closing the door.
(She didn’t want to disturb Christopher, nor did she want the marquess to notice there was a small purple butterfly on his pillow.
Or a soft silvery-lilac haze inside the room.) “I-I didn’t expect to see you here. ”
The marquess’s wide mouth tipped into a half smile. “Nor did I ex-expect to see you, Miss Dav-Davenport,” he said softly. “It’s late.”
“It is. Can-can I help you?” she asked.
Lord Kinsale’s forehead crinkled with a frown and he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck with one large hand.
“To be sure, I’m not … I’m not certain …
” He sighed, then said, “I came to check … to check on Tom. To see if he’s slip-slipped out o’ the house.
” His smile became a trifle sheepish. “I would have checked sooner, but after our elocution lesson, I-I fell asleep in front of the li-library fire.”
“I’m not surprised you fell asleep,” returned Mina gently. “I know you’ve been going out late at night. To make sure Tom stays safe.”
Lord Kinsale cocked an eyebrow. “You do?”
Mina smiled. “Yes. And it’s very noble of you to do so. It shows you care.”
The marquess gave a small huff and a faint flush flooded his cheeks above his dark night beard. “I’ve never thought about it like that be-before. Or been called no-noble for that matter. But I thank you, Miss Dav-Davenport. I’ll take the com-compliment.”
Mina wasn’t sure what made her pose her next question, but she did anyway. “Shall we check on Tom together, my lord?”
Brutus snorted. Ugh. Please, spare me. Ye just want to spend more time with the master, temptin’ him with yer feminine wiles. Especially when he’s tired an’ his guard is down.
That’s not true, returned Mina, sending the pug a narrow look. But she got no further as Lord Kinsale answered her. “Oh, that-that won’t be necessary. You-you should go to b-b-bed.”
“Oh. It’s no bother, my lord. After all, it’s part of my job as his governess.”
Lord Kinsale inclined his head. “Very well.”
Although, upon opening the door to Tom’s bedroom, it was immediately apparent the boy wasn’t there; his bed was empty.
The marquess sighed heavily. “I wish … I wish I knew why Tom kept sneakin’ out. But the b-b-boy won’t say.”
“I’ve tried questioning him too,” said Mina. “But he’s very tight-lipped. I imagine that with time, he’ll adjust to his new situation. That he’ll learn to trust he’s safe here.”
“Hmmm. Trust,” said Lord Kinsale. “Poor lad. I can’t … I can’t even imagine what Tom’s life has been like up until now.”
Mina looked up at the marquess. Even though the soft golden glow of a nearby gaslight only illuminated half of his ruggedly handsome countenance, she could clearly see he was troubled.
On an impulse she said, “Would you like some company when you venture out to look for Tom? Two pairs of eyes are better than one.” She could see he was going to say no—that he would be chivalrous and declare it was too dangerous, so she added quickly, “It’s my duty to look out for him, my lord.
Remember, I’m a Parasol-trained governess.
I have skills.” Flipping up the hem of her skirts she displayed her ankle.
“And I have a knife and I know how to use it.”
Lord Kinsale chuckled softly as he looked down at the small, holstered dagger that was strapped just above the top of her half boot. And Mina’s heart immediately performed an odd little flip-flop.
The real danger wasn’t in London’s dark streets.
The danger to Mina was right here, in front of her, in Kinsale House.
She should be alarmed at how rapidly she was falling for this former Irish boxer with his charming smile and tender heart and wickedly dancing green eyes.
She should try and put some distance between herself and her employer. But, it seemed she couldn’t.
“Very well,” he said. “You-you can come along. Although, I would-wouldn’t want to take you away from your son.”
The usual guilt Mina felt for continually lying to Lord Kinsale about Christopher’s true parentage nipped at her heart.
“Oh, he’s sound asleep and I don’t expect him to wake.
He’ll be safe here in Kinsale House. But perhaps Brutus”—she caught the pug’s eye—“could stay here in the hall to keep guard. Just in case.” To Brutus she said, There’ll be a sausage in it for you.
Now ye’re talkin’. The pug leapt onto a silk upholstered chair opposite Christopher’s door, circled around three times, then settled down with a small grunt.
“It seems Brutus agrees with your plan, Miss Dav-Davenport,” said Lord Kinsale. To his dog he said, “Good boy, Brutus. Now don’t let anythin’ ha-happen to Miss Dav-Davenport’s lad.” He pointed an admonitory finger. “Or his rabbit.”
I can’t make any promises about that feckin’ rabbit, grumbled the pug, looking at Mina. They’re all nasty creatures. With their ridiculously floppy ears and hoppy legs and twitchy noses and stupid little fluffy tails.
Mina sighed inwardly. There was no convincing Brutus that all rabbits—real or toy—shouldn’t be obliterated.
Of course, she wasn’t expecting Sir Bedivere or Cheavers or any of his hired “henchmen” to break into Kinsale House tonight, even if Queen Mab did reveal that Mina had been masquerading as a footman.
None of them knew Lord Kinsale had hired her.
But, all the same, it was at least a little bit comforting to know that Christopher was protected by both the Guardia Nimbus ward and a fierce little guard dog.
To Lord Kinsale she said, “Just let me fetch my cloak and umbrella from my room, my lord.”
The marquess frowned. “It’s-it’s not rainin’ though.”
Mina smiled knowingly over her shoulder as she headed down the hall. “One never knows what the weather will be in London. Besides, my umbrella can always be used as a weapon. It can deliver a sound thrashing if required.”
Of course, Lord Kinsale’s answering laugh, deep and low, was music to Mina’s smitten ears.
Oh, she truly was a hopeless case.