Chapter 7
MARIETTA
I moaned. I should have been sick of eating soups and stews by now, but they were so good. I rose to refill my bowl. With all this energy, perhaps... I stared at the cauldron and concentrated on the generous ladle, visualizing what I wanted to happen. Fill my bowl.
The ladle lifted, then collapsed against the edge. My shoulders drooped. Typical.
A sharp knock on the front door severed my disappointment, and since Noble looked disinclined to answer it, I did. A young boy stood on the stoop. “Message for Marietta.”
I took the sealed paper and rooted in my hanging pocket for a coin, handing it to the boy. He tipped his hat and I closed the door.
I ran a finger over the sloped handwriting and the eagle seal.
A tingle of guilt ran through me as I sat at the table to read my brother’s note.
Ferris was currently in worse straits—not enjoying delicious food, fending off the crowds.
I’d sent him fifty gold along with my address, hoping he would use the money for food—knowing that I would eventually have to tell him about the rest of the recovered money. I couldn’t trust him with it yet.
Two lines were underlined on the page. Kennen’s trial was being moved up and the negotiant’s office had been cleaned out with no forwarding address.
I tapped a finger against the paper.
“What is it?” Noble continued writing and didn’t look up.
I read him the note. He paused, his pen hovering above his parchment.
“I see that Tannett took my advice. Good. As to your brother—your younger brother—we need to delay the trial.”
“How?”
“The person to ask is holding a masquerade tonight. Loves his masquerades, the more debauched, the better. You will need to dress appropriately.”
He looked up, green eyes surveying me. “Do you have a domino or a mask?”
I clutched the note. “I do, but nothing risqué like you are suggesting.”
He waved a hand and went back to writing. “One of the tavern outfits will be more than perfect.”
My jaw dropped. “Are you insane? Who is your friend?”
“John Alcroft.”
“I can’t attend a party held by John Alcroft dressed that way,” I hissed. “People will know me there.”
“Not if you are a tavern wench wearing a mask, they won’t.” His pen scritched across the parchment.
“But—”
The scritching halted. “Look, Marietta. No one will notice you or identify you, trust me.” His gaze swept me. “You disappear too well.”
My stomach tightened. “I realize I’m plain, but that doesn’t mean—”
“You aren’t plain. You are mutable.” He cocked his head, absently shaking my world.
“Able to look however you need to depending on the situation, without alerting any spell monitors. It’s a strength.
But beyond that, you make yourself disappear.
” He snapped his fingers and the lines of him turned wavy, like looking at someone through rippled glass, but he was visible still. “A rare skill, and one that I envy.”
I stared at him, mouth ajar.
A smile lifted his lips, his piercing eyes pinning me.
“Did you think yourself so forgettable that the people walking by you simply took no notice? It’s not all magic, of course.
The physical setup anchors it all. I’ll bet on a normal day you style your hair the same way, every day.
And your black or brown dresses? The same.
You probably tilt your head in the same direction to every opening conversation salvo.
The way you glare and stare? The same. Rarely do you smile, I’ll bet, and have fun? Not for years.”
The simmering of the soup pot, the heavy beat of my heart.
Seen, in a way that made me feel too exposed. I concentrated on the other part of what he’d said—I couldn’t even lift a ladle, and he was saying I had a skill he envied?
“And from your silence I can see that I would win that bet easily. So tell me, Marietta. If you redo your hair, apply kohl around your eyes, and attach a mask, do you honestly think someone will recognize you? Or do you think you might be freed?”
The seconds ticked by. I was frozen. He raised a brow then started scritching again.
I wouldn’t be identified—either as the boring fringe society member I was or the sister of the Vein Ripper. I hadn’t realized my actions had become so…predictable. I hadn’t liked being out of control since before our parents’ deaths. Perhaps I had gone to the extreme.
There was freedom in going to the masquerade as someone else. I opened my mouth to respond when the back door banged open.
“Lovely day, isn’t it?” A man even taller than Noble strode into the kitchen, immediately heading for the sideboard. He lifted a bowl and the ladle.
Noble didn’t look up, though he had tensed when the door opened. He shook his head, grip relaxing around the pen. “Lucian, what are you doing here?”
His voice was exasperated and…fond?
Lucian walked to the table. He couldn’t be much older than I was—might in fact be younger, it was hard to say.
But it was immediately apparent who he was.
They had the same cheekbones, though Lucian’s features were rounder and more open.
Devastatingly attractive as well, but Lucian was more of a charming, boyish scoundrel, whereas Noble embodied a dark, sexual demon.
Lucian plunked down so that we formed an off-center triangle and smiled at me—lips a little crooked, but all the more charming for it. “Lucian Noble, at your very lovely service.”
I smiled back. It would be easy to be captivated by such a man. “Pleasure to meet you, Lucian Noble. I’m Marietta Winters.”
“Of the Vein Ripper Winters?”
My smile tightened. “One and the same.”
Lucian let out a low whistle and turned to his brother. “Thought you could keep me ignorant of this one, I see.”
“No.” Noble did not look up. “I thought you should finish your last year at Faversound. Why are you here, Lucian?”
“Charlie told me you were here working on a new case. Thought I would drop by and see if you needed help.”
Noble finally looked up, the same exasperation and fondness present on his face. Transformed into a human instead of something otherworldly and untouchable. “No. Now go back to school.”
“We’re on break.” Lucian happily cut a piece of bread, smile never dimming.
“So go bother your friends and get in trouble in Ember Square.”
“Done that plenty. I’m here to help you now.”
“I don’t need your help.” Eyes narrowed and the Noble I knew once more sat at the table. “Go home for break.”
I shivered, but Lucian’s smile didn’t waver. He glanced at me. “Do you fall for that? All bark, he is.” He swiped the bread through his soup. “Why would I go home? The food’s better here.”
“Can’t you get Mistress Rosaire to cook for you there?” I asked, interrupting his banter.
He blinked at me for a second, then a slow smile crossed his face. It was just like his brother’s, but whereas Noble’s devastated me, Lucian’s just made me feel like a co-conspirator. “Is that what—”
Noble made a sharp motion with his free hand and continued writing. Lucian just looked amused.
“Is that what...?” I asked.
Lucian shook his head. “So, Lady Second Winters, yes? May I call you Marietta?”
My eyebrows shot straight up. So earnest looking and compelling—these two were both trouble. I shuddered to imagine them together against an opponent. “Yes.”
“Excellent. Please call me Lucian.”
“Now that introductions are out of the way, be on yours, Lucian,” Noble said. I wondered what he was writing.
“Not a chance. This looks like far too much fun.”
Noble gripped his pen a fraction tighter. “We are going to Alcroft’s tonight. Another masquerade. You have an invitation. After that I expect only to see you at home.”
“I got straight marks this term.”
A smile tugged Noble’s mouth, but when he looked up his expression was impassive. “I expected no less, now be off.”
Lucian smiled and gave me a wave. “See you tonight.”
I waited until Lucian’s footsteps receded. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”
“Now you do.” He continued writing.
“Do you have any other siblings?”
“No.”
“Parents?”
“I didn’t crawl out of Hell, if that is what you are asking.”
“Are they alive?”
He hesitated a moment, his pen scratching to a halt. “Go see if you need anything else for tonight. I’ll contact Vivienne, if so.”
“Do you ever get tired of ordering everyone around?”
“No.”
I sighed and trooped upstairs.
~*~
I fit the last feather in place and slipped on my mask. Pivoting slowly in front of the mirror, I analyzed my appearance from all angles. Transformed into some exotic flower or bird from the head up and a loose woman from the neck down, I looked nothing like Marietta Winters.
I wasn’t sure the two styles went together, but it was the best I could do, and the effect was quite interesting all the same. It would allow me to be two different women if I so desired.
I walked to the kitchen. It amused me that Noble chose to work here instead of in the study off the drawing room, spare though it was like everything else in the house.
The kitchen table was large, though, and he liked to spread things in every direction, so maybe it was simply because of the space.
He looked up at my entrance and his gaze ran down my figure. “Adequate. Are you ready to leave?”
I tapped my hand irritably against my leg. “Yes. Thank you for the brilliant compliment.”
His gaze met mine and his mouth opened, then closed, a peculiar look in his eyes. He pulled himself out of the chair and walked over to me. “Something’s missing.”
I crossed my arms. “And what is that?”
“A knowledge in your eyes.” His were narrow as they searched mine. “You can wear the clothes, but you have no idea how to carry off the effect.”
“I see.” I did not.
“Have you ever been kissed, Marietta?”
The anger fled, replaced with confusion and nervousness. My gloved hands fell against my sides. “I don’t see how that is any of your concern.”
“You do realize that we will be playing a role—in the taverns especially.”
“No.” I wet my lips, anxiety pulsing through me.