Hilde #3
“I told him that I liked butterflies,” Lady Isobel continued, “so he took me to a great cabinet and opened it up to reveal hundreds of the poor creatures pinned to boards by some ancestor of his. Instead of delighting me as he had hoped, it made me burst into tears. He told me not to cry, but to close my eyes and count to three hundred. I tried, but…well, you know how it is when you are a child and someone tells you not to look. I managed it for a little while, but then I peeked. He was standing in a cloud of butterflies that flapped gently around his head. I watched as he reached over; the pin boards were empty except for one last butterfly. He plucked it off the board, then slid out the pin that had skewered it and dropped it into a little pile of pins with a clink. He held the dead butterfly in his palm, then reached out with his other hand and carefully cupped it over the top. He moved it away again, and the butterfly flew up off of his palm and joined the crowd of them that jostled around his head.”
“Were you frightened?”
She was surprised by how willingly he had used his Charm for little Lady Isobel.
This must have been before the incident he had related to her, with the poor dead woman and her crying baby.
That he was not more careful about guarding the secret of his Charm did not shock her in the least. Clearly he had always been careless with his own safety.
“No, I was delighted! It seemed to me the best sort of trick. When I asked him how he did it, he said that he asked the butterflies to dance and they obliged. I didn’t even realize it was a Charm until I was older.
I had heard stories, of course, but my child’s mind could not associate what I had seen him do with the terrible magic of Charms that people whispered about.
I would not normally mention his Charm to you at all, Lady Croft, but…
well, everyone knows now that he is a Charmer, so there can be no harm in it.
I do not think it wrong to have a Charm, no matter what people say.
” She paused, blushing. “Do you think me very scandalous?”
“No, I do not think you scandalous at all. I think you are quite correct.”
“Well, I’m relieved to hear it. Auntie Floret is always telling me that I’m entirely too earnest when sharing my thoughts, and too blunt when asking the thoughts of others.”
“My sister is much the same way. And I think perhaps I am, too.”
“I do so appreciate that in a person. My darling Erol is much more difficult to know. He has hidden depths.”
That was certainly true. The more that Hilde had gotten to know him, the more she had realized that he was like a lake that seemed shallow enough to wade into, and then suddenly you were in up to your nostrils and drowning.
Why did that make her want to swim so badly, when it ought to make her flee for the shore?
“So,” Lady Isobel continued, “I decided then and there that he was the man I would one day marry. I waited and waited, and worried so when I heard that he had bought his commission to fight in Relance, and when the opportunity finally came at his father’s funeral, I confessed my feelings to him.
I had no real hope of him returning them, but he must have seen and valued the depth of my love, for he proposed to me that very night! ”
Hilde recalled what Elmwood had said the previous night, about being very drunk at his father’s funeral. She wondered if he had even realized he was proposing, or if he knew that Lady Isobel had been infatuated with him since childhood.
“Perhaps…if you told these recollections to Lord Elmwood, they might prompt him to share more of his thoughts with you.”
“Yes!” cried Lady Isobel. “Yes, this is precisely why I need your help. With your guidance, I can use this dinner to bare my heart to him again.”
The thought of playing matchmaker for the two of them made Hilde feel rather ill.
But didn’t she want Elmwood to find happiness?
Lady Isobel would be a kind and sympathetic wife to him, and if the marriage protected him from banishment, then all the better.
Just because she intended to use him ill for her own purposes didn’t mean that she couldn’t also help him and Lady Isobel come together.
What’s more, if they came to Croftholde for dinner, she could find some excuse to draw him away from the party and offer him her trade, and Mr. Winthrop would even be on hand to assist with the paperwork, once Thorgoode was revived.
Truly, she could not have contrived a more convenient situation to suit her purposes.
Rather than a feeling of triumph, the thought made her want to heave up the bun she’d eaten for breakfast into the nearby rosebush.
“Of course,” she said, before she could think better of it. “You all must come and dine at Croftholde tonight, and we will see what can be done.”
“Hooray!” exclaimed Lady Isobel, clapping her hands. “I am quite certain this will cheer my darling Erol’s spirits enormously.”
Hilde very much doubted it.
“Indeed. I will leave you to it, Lady Isobel. Cook is going to want to roast me for dinner when I tell her we’re having a party with no notice, so I’d best get back and speak with her as soon as possible. I’ll send our carriage to collect you all, as I don’t believe Lord Elmwood has one here.”
“That is so kind! I shall be beside myself with excitement until the hour arrives!” said Lady Isobel.
Hilde bid her farewell and made her way down the drive, uncertain whether she had just made a brilliant play or a terrible mistake. When she reached the gates, she raised her hand to lift the latch, and her attention caught on her finger.
Where her paper cut had gaped the night before, there was now nothing but a faint pink line.