2. Conrad
CONRAD
Conrad Moore did not look his best. After traveling several days by post from Bristol, he was covered with dust, his clothes were fully wrinkled, and now that he was traipsing through the countryside, his boots and the bottom of his trousers were getting more and more gradually caked with mud.
When a light rain started to fall, he had to laugh.
It was, quite possibly, the worst first impression he could make.
But Conrad had learned through years of practice that where looks could fail him, a positive attitude, a bit of confidence, an uptilted chin, and a well-placed smile could work wonders.
He was fully prepared to utilize all of those tools to his benefit as soon as he arrived.
He consulted his map, idly brushing raindrops from the paper, and checked against his surroundings.
By his reckoning, the Wrenwhistle estate was another hour or so’s walk from where he stood.
He smiled to himself and folded up his map.
He pocketed it and continued at a brisk pace, delighted that his trip would be over so soon.
The small piece of luggage he was hefting had felt heavier with each passing leg of his trip; but now that he was drawing nearer to his destination, the bag felt light and his spirits were high.
When he arrived, he looked, frankly, even worse, as he could now add bedraggled to his overall appearance.
The mud was dripping down the bottom of his trousers and raindrops were still slipping down the brim of his hat.
He carefully wiped his shoes, set down his bag, and knocked on the door.
He straightened, pulled back his shoulders, lifted his chin, and had a smile ready before the door even opened.
He was not surprised by the butler’s look of mild horror, nor the slight curl of the lip, nor the directions for where the servant’s entry could be found. He widened his smile and stepped forward, “I am here to speak with Councilmembers Wrenwhistle,” he said. “It is a matter of Council business.”
The butler gave him another look up and down. “Whom may I say is calling?”
“Mr. Conrad Moore, if you please.”
Begrudgingly, the butler stepped aside and Conrad grabbed his bag and hurried in.
As he waited for the butler to deliver news of his arrival, he looked around the space eagerly.
Everything was impossibly elegant. He kept both hands clasped around his bag handle in order to avoid the temptation to touch the gilt candelabra or pair of delicate porcelain birds sitting atop a small table nearby.
He spun in place, trying to keep his facial expression neutral as he admired the artwork in ornate frames; it would not do to look like an awestruck bumpkin.
The butler returned, took Conrad’s hat and coat, directed him to leave his bag by the door, and then indicated for him to follow.
He was led into another lavish space, a small sitting room.
There was a whole wall of open windows that kept the space bright and cheery, despite the overcast skies.
There were several chairs, settees, and tables.
Conrad saw the two occupants on one of the settees, who were both watching him enter with curious expressions on their faces.
He privately cheered; curiosity was much easier to deal with than disdain.
The other two stood as he came to stand in front of them.
One of them, a young man who was a little taller than Conrad, with a round body, spectacles, light brown skin, and dark hair, smiled at him, bowed, and said, “Good afternoon, Mr. Moore. I am Roger Wrenwhistle. My husband is…busy at the moment, but Torquil here was kind enough to join me in meeting you. May I present Mx. Torquil Pimpernel-Smith?”
He gestured at his companion, another person of average height, who was thin, with pale skin, sharp features, and dark hair that fell around their face in unruly curls.
Conrad could hardly believe his luck. Roger Wrenwhistle and Torquil Pimpernel-Smith?
He’d been following both of their work for months now.
He tried to hide his giddiness as he returned the smile and the bow. “It is an honor to meet you both.”
“Won’t you sit?” Councilmember Wrenwhistle said, gesturing to a chair opposite.
Conrad paused. “I fear I may leave a watermark on the seat.”
“Oh,” Councilmember Wrenwhistle said. His eyes trailed down briefly over Conrad’s figure. “ Oh, ” he repeated quietly. “Dear me, it looks like you’ve had quite a dreadful journey.”
“Not dreadful,” Conrad assured him. “It was long, though. And I’m afraid I got caught in the rain on my walk here.”
“You walked here?” Councilmember Pimpernel-Smith asked.
“It was only about five or six miles from the posting station,” Conrad said.
Councilmember Pimpernel-Smith looked amused. Councilmember Wrenwhistle’s eyes were wide. “My word,” he said. “Don’t worry about a water spot. We can see that it’s set right later. Would you like some tea? I’m sure I would need some after walking that far.”
“Tea would be lovely,” Conrad said. “But I don’t wish to impose.”
“No imposition at all, Mr. Moore,” Councilmember Wrenwhistle said, ringing a small bell pull before taking his seat beside Councilmember Pimpernel-Smith. “Now,” he said as Conrad perched himself on the edge of the chair. “How can we help you?”
Conrad carefully adjusted his posture and said, “I am here to inquire about the position on the Council. As I understand it, the third human position is still unfilled.”
The other two exchanged a look. Councilmember Wrenwhistle pushed his spectacles farther up his nose. “I see,” he said. “I’m afraid you may have mistaken me for my father, Mr. Barnes? He is the Head of the Council on the human side. He would be the one to appoint the third member.”
“I am most certainly eager to meet your father, but I came here first with the intention of meeting you.”
Councilmember Wrenwhistle gave a surprised little smile. “Really?”
Conrad nodded with a grin. “I’ve been following both of your careers for some time.
The projects you’ve been helming have been so clever.
I’d love to be a part of it. I have many ideas—” He broke off.
It wouldn’t do to speak too long too soon.
“And as I know you are a person with many ideas as well, I thought you might be my best first contact. And, if you thought I might suit, then I could travel to your father with your recommendation.”
He was relieved that the words had flowed more smoothly than in his multiple private rehearsals.
Councilmember Pimpernel-Smith turned to Councilmember Wrenwhistle. “It is a rather clever approach.”
“Yes,” Councilmember Wrenwhistle murmured. “What sort of ideas do you have in mind?”
“Any number of them,” Conrad replied easily.
“I’ve been outlining some strategies for launching your new rubrics.
And I’ve been trying to find some ways to weave some of your recent findings, in terms of performing different forms of magic at the same time, together with the rubrics or how we might train more adults to cast together. ”
“Really?” Councilmember Wrenwhistle asked, brightening. He scooted forward. “What would you suggest?”
“Well, for the second item, I’d really love to have some people trained to show others.
I think we might do well to set up a sort of course that travels around the country and teaches others.
It’s one thing to improve relations between fae and humans in London; it’s another matter entirely to spread that attitude across a bigger scope. ”
“Fascinating,” Councilmember Wrenwhistle replied. “And do you?—”
Councilmember Pimpernel-Smith stopped him with a hand on his arm.
“Forgive me for interrupting you, Roger,” they said quietly.
“But I’m wondering if it might be advisable to have Mr. Moore stay the night, or perhaps even a few days.
I imagine the two of you could go on for hours at this rate,” they added with a smile.
“And it would be good to take advantage of Silas’ presence here so both he and Wyndham can talk to Mr. Moore.
If our new friend can approach your father with four recommendations, it will definitely further his goal.
And if there are any challenges in terms of getting along with any of us, we would do well to discover that now rather than in the Council chambers. ”
Conrad’s heart lifted. This was the best scenario he had imagined—it was actually much, much better than he had imagined.
Never in his wildest dreams could he have anticipated his visit would garner him introductions to four councilmembers at once!
But it wouldn’t do to look like he was angling for a free stay, so he stayed silent and kept his expression hopeful.
Councilmember Wrenwhistle seemed pleased by the suggestion as well.
But almost as soon as his face brightened with agreement, it fell as well.
“Oh dear. We have no more rooms.” He turned to Conrad with an apologetic look.
“We’re having some friends over at present. So we’re a bit at capacity, you see.”
“I don’t wish to inconvenience you,” Conrad said. “I am happy to stay in the servant’s quarters or take a room in the village.”
The gentleman looked horrified. “The village is miles away! And, good heavens, I will not house a guest in the servants quarters. It really is perfect that so many of us are here at once; I just wish we had a little more space.”
Councilmember Pimpernel-Smith seemed thoughtful. “I wonder if Mr. Ravenwing might be persuaded to share his room.”
Conrad didn’t know how Councilmember Wrenwhistle looked even more scandalized, but he managed it. “He might, but—” he glanced at Conrad and then turned back to his friend and said in a low voice, “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
Councilmember Pimpernel-Smith shrugged. “It’s worth asking him.”