Chapter 30
In Which Messes Are Cleared Up; And Proposals and Confessions and Magical Sparks Are Made …
What? Mina, shocked to stillness, could only blink. Then she inhaled a shaky breath and surreptitiously pinched the inside of her wrist. No, she wasn’t dreaming. She hadn’t misheard. Lord Kinsale had just suggested they wed.
“Marry you?” she repeated as the wave of incredulity that had hit her began to ebb. “You … you can’t possibly mean that.”
“Oh, but I do,” said Lord Kinsale. “In fact, if you recall, I’d be-begun to propose that we throw all caution to the wind and do just that …
marry. When we were at-at the Dinosaur Court.
But then Brutus struck before I could finish sayin’ what-what I really wanted to.
” His chest expanded as he inhaled a breath.
“The words I’ve been hold-holdin’ in me heart for days.
Actually, for weeks if I’m bein’ tru-truly honest.”
Oh my. Mina again couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.
But while her heart wanted to soar with joy, her guilt—the fact that Lord Kinsale didn’t know the truth about her situation—weighed it down, keeping it firmly anchored in a deep well of leaden despair.
“Lord Kinsale, I can’t let you do this,” she said, her tone heavy with remorse.
Indeed, every word she uttered felt like she was dragging it out of her chest. “I know that marrying you would save me from scandal. But … but it wouldn’t be right—”
Lord Kinsale swore beneath his breath and raked a hand through his hair.
“I’m … I’m makin’ a complete mess of this proposal, aren’t I?
” he said. Then before Mina knew what he was about, he got down on bended knee in front of her.
“Mina Davenport,” he said, looking straight into her eyes.
“I haven’t rehearsed all of what I’m … what I’m about to say, so please forgive me …
I mean my stammers.” Drawing a deep breath, he continued, “My darlin’ Mina, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways.”
“You love me?” whispered Mina, her heart tripping over itself with awed delight. “You-you have a list of things you love about me?”
“Aye, I do.” Lord Kinsale’s smile lit his emerald-green eyes. “Ever since I read that poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, I started makin’ a list in me head. Not consciously at first. But-but I have one all the same.”
Oh. Oh, heavens above. Mina had never been more touched by anything in her entire life.
But then the cold hard truth reared its ugly head and she bit her lip as tears threatened.
“But you can’t. You can’t love me,” she said, her voice cracking.
“Not really. You-you don’t know me. You don’t know about the things I’ve done.
What … what I am. Which is a terrible, terrible liar. ”
Lord Kinsale’s brows plunged into a frown. “What-what do you mean?”
“I mean,” said Mina, dashing away a tear that had spilled onto her cheek, “that from the moment we met on the Kinsale Cloud, I’ve been deceiving you.
I’ve been perpetuating a big fat lie about my past. And about Christopher.
He’s … he’s not really my son. He’s actually my former charge, the orphaned Viscount Fitzwilliam.
And I was tasked by his late godmother, the Dowager Countess of Grenfell, just before she passed away two months ago, to-to keep him safe from his guardian, Sir Bedivere Ponsonby.
I’ve been hiding Lord Fitzwilliam for weeks and weeks and nobody knows about any of this except my dear friend Emmeline.
In fact, she only found out yesterday. And now you know too.
Even … even Mrs. Temple doesn’t know what I’ve done.
Although”—Mina pulled a breath into her tight lungs—“she will very soon.”
Lord Kinsale joined her on the settee, then scrubbed a hand down his face. “So-so just to be clear, you’re tellin’ me that young Christopher isn’t your child, but a viscount in hidin’? That you, in fact, removed him from the care of his legally appointed guardian?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “In the eyes of the law, I’ve technically kidnapped Lord Fitzwilliam.”
“But … but why? What sort of danger is the lad in? Does it”—Lord Kinsale’s green eyes glittered dangerously—“does it have somethin’ to do with the fact that this Sir Bedivere recently set sail for the Arctic? To-to chart a route through the feckin’ Northwest Passage?”
Mina blinked in astonishment. “Yes. Well, mostly. Sir Bedivere was determined to take Christopher with him. In fact, the Valiant had already set sail for the Arctic with the poor boy on board when I”—Ack, how to put this!
—“intercepted the vessel. But”—Mina frowned in confusion—“how-how did you know about any of that?”
Lord Kinsale’s mouth flattened. “I … I saw the bastard outside Hatchards. Right before you-you ducked down and accidentally whacked me fair in the groin. I suspected you were tryin’ to avoid the man, so …
so yesterday, when he rode past me in Hyde Park, I asked me friend Lord Hartwell if he knew him.
And Hartwell bas-basically told me that the baronet is a ‘tosser,’ as the English would say, and that he owned a ship named the Valiant that had sailed forth from Bristol, headin’ to the Arctic Circle …
about the same time that the Kinsale Cloud was returnin’ to Bristol. ”
Mina’s stomach had turned into a butter churn. “Did Sir Bedivere see Christopher?” she whispered. “When you were in Hyde Park yesterday?”
Lord Kinsale shook his head. “I-I don’t believe so. But the lad … the lad was actin’ a bit oddly. Right after Sir Bedivere rode by a second time, Christopher told me his stomach felt fun-funny and then he asked if we might return … return home.”
Dear Lord. What another near miss that had been.
Mina swallowed to moisten her dry-as-ashes mouth.
“I feel so guilty about everything. About breaking the law. About deceiving you and the Parasol Academy. But young Christopher’s life was placed in danger.
The Arctic is no place for a child. And a deathbed promise is the sort of promise one must not break. ”
Lord Kinsale’s eyes filled with compassion. “I understand, lass. This Sir Bedivere sounds like he’s gone quite mad.”
“Not quite. He’s—” Mina broke off and bit her lip. Oh, she so wanted to tell Lord Kinsale everything. But if she mentioned Queen Mab and the baronet’s ensorcelled ring, the marquess would think she was mad.
Lord Kinsale suddenly reached out and touched her hand.
Squeezed it gently. “Mina, I … I want you to know that I will do my utmost to pro-protect you and young Christopher from Sir Bedivere. I can-cannot imagine that any authority in this land—that Queen Victoria herself—would allow a young peer to be … to be taken on such a perilous voyage. I do have one question though … one that’s been plaguin’ me since the day we first met.
How-how did you and Christopher end up on me ship?
If the boy was on the Valiant, headed north for the Arctic, and the Kinsale Cloud sailed from Kinsale in Ireland …
and none of me crew saw you sneak on board …
” He shook his head. “I do know the Valiant returned to Bristol soon after we did. It’s just …
It’s like … It’s almost like you and Christopher magically appeared on the Kinsale Cloud.
But-but that’s impossible.” Lord Kinsale’s gaze locked with Mina’s. “Isn’t it?”
Mina’s breath hitched. What was Lord Kinsale really asking her? Was he actually asking her if she could perform magic? “I don’t … I don’t know what you mean.”
“But … but I think you do,” asserted the marquess.
“And it’s not just how you came to be on me ship that puz-puzzles me.
The night you rescued Tom from the clutches of that drunk-drunken lout—the fellow was obnoxious one moment, and then the very next, he was as do-docile as a lamb after you jabbed him with your umbrella and spoke an odd word.
Some-something about being perplexed like ‘Per-Perplexio’?
And then he was. And the way you manage to magically pull all …
all manner of things from your pockets. Like-like sausages for Brutus, or-or mousetraps, or sweets, or marbles, or packs of cards.
And when I saw you leavin’ Christopher’s bedroom the other night when we went lookin’ for Tom, there seemed to be a soft pur-purple mist that drifted out into the hallway after you.
At the time, I dismissed it, tellin’ meself that maybe the lad’s window was open, and fog had crept in.
But the fog didn’t descend until later. And it’s ne-never purple.
Why, even your hair, which was dish-disheveled and muddy a short time ago, is now dry and per-perfectly styled in a record amount of time, while …
while mine is still damp from me bath. It’s …
it’s too incredible and defies any and all rational explanation. ”
“Oh,” said Mina with a wince. Apart from her teleportation mishap aboard the Kinsale Cloud, she’d always tried so very hard to use her magic discreetly, as per the Academy’s strict protocols.
But it seemed she hadn’t quite succeeded.
In fact, she’d failed completely. She’d been about as discreet as a stage magician with an assistant shouting to the audience, “Watch Miss Hermina Davenport, Parasol Academy governess, perform another Fae spell right before your very eyes!”
“Yes, oh,” said Lord Kinsale. His tone, like the look in his eyes, was uncompromising.
His suspicions were aroused and it appeared he wasn’t going to let her off the hook about anything.
“And o’ course, I still can’t fully explain how your kisses magically make me stammer dis-disappear. At least temporarily. Can you?”
Mina blew out a sigh. “Well, I do think the act of kissing does relax one’s oral musculature. So that’s a perfectly logical explanation of sorts. I really don’t think there’s any magic involved even though it seems that way.”