Chapter Sixteen
SIXTEEN
Sunlight filtered through the golden leaves of a nearby aspen tree as Vesper stood outside the Globe’s office the following morning.
She smoothed a hand over her dress’s front, rocked on her heels, and tried to do anything she could think of to avoid looking down the street. In a matter of seconds, she lost the battle and checked anyway. Still empty. She bit her lip, mildly annoyed.
Where is he?
Maximilian had said in his note that he’d pick her up at half past. As of now, he was two minutes late.
Vesper drummed her fingers against her side, anxious.
Had the sorcerer forgotten about their engagement entirely, or was he making her wait like this was just another game?
She had a worse thought: What if he’d just decided not to come at all?
A group of laundresses carrying buckets and washboards passed her on the street. Vesper offered a small smile as they passed, but none of the women returned it, and more than one of them glowered with open hostility. Vesper swallowed, uncomfortable.
You’re a part of Maximilian’s world now, she reminded herself. They don’t see you as one of them anymore.
She was still staring after the women when the familiar clopping of horses’ hooves redirected her gaze.
A mixture of relief and exasperation filled her as Maximilian’s familiar coach came charging down the street and stopped before her.
Vesper curtsied to the footman as he dismounted from the platform and bowed.
“Miss Evans.” He bowed. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, Bexley.”
He opened the coach’s door, and Vesper immediately noted a familiar pair of long legs.
She took a deep breath before accepting the footman’s hand and ducking inside.
Immediately she was enveloped in a sugary smell.
She settled into the coach and met Maximilian’s gaze.
The sorcerer was eyeing her with unmistakable satisfaction.
“Red really suits you, Evans.” He nodded toward her dress. “I suspected it might.”
Vesper’s cheeks warmed. “You’re late, Mr. Kite.”
“Forgive me.” Maximilian’s expression turned solemn. “We had a bit of a crisis this morning.”
Vesper didn’t want to ask, but curiosity got the best of her. “What sort of crisis?”
“Guillermo was out of puff pastries,” he said with the same seriousness. “And as a result, I almost went without breakfast.”
Vesper massaged the bridge of her nose. “Mr. Kite, you may not be aware of this, but for most people, missing breakfast does not constitute a crisis.”
Maximilian suddenly smiled. “I anticipated your displeasure.” There was a new hint of amusement in his voice now. “Which is why, to make up for my tardiness, I’ve brought you these.” He lifted his coat, and produced a large bouquet of red roses and offered it. Vesper blinked.
“This … is a little extravagant for being two minutes late.”
“Yes, well…” Maximilian suddenly looked uncharacteristically nervous. “They’re also meant to be a peace offering.”
“A peace offering?”
“To make up for what happened at Guillermo’s the other day,” he murmured. “I was rude, and I’m sorry.”
Vesper sat back, stunned. Aside from the incident at the polo match, this was the most sincere she’d ever heard Maximilian. The apology was genuine. She accepted the roses and stared at them, perplexed.
“You don’t like them.” There was apprehension in Maximilian’s voice. “I guessed at roses, but if you like a different flower—”
“It’s not that.” Vesper looked down at the roses again. “It’s just … I’ve never been one for flowers. They’re pretty, but fleeting. They don’t last.”
Maximilian arched a brow. “You’re a tough customer, Evans. What’s a better gift?”
“Steel-tipped pens.”
“Pens?”
Vesper shrugged. “I’m a writer. Pens are far more useful to me than flowers.”
“Ever the romantic.” Maximilian looked incredulous. “Dare I ask what kind of pens you prefer?”
“Henry welcome!”
“Mrs. Belver.” Maximilian tipped his hat. “The pleasure is ours, thank you for the invitation.”
The woman turned to Vesper. “And you must be Miss Evans. It’s so lovely to have you here!”
“Good morning, Mrs. Belver,” said Vesper. “Thank you for having us.”
Mrs. Belver gestured for Vesper and Maximilian to follow her down a smaller gravel path that cut across the front lawn and led to the aviary.
Vesper did a double take. The aviary reminded her of a castle spun from a fairy tale.
Most of the building was fashioned from rose-tinted glass, and its windows were trimmed with shining gold.
A footman dressed in gray livery held a door open for them, and they entered together.
The other guests were already inside, and Vesper immediately spotted several familiar faces, including Ada, who appeared to be trapped in a conversation with Mrs. Oelrich and another woman who looked like Ada’s mother.
She threw Vesper a pained expression before returning her attention to them, and Vesper redirected her attention to the aviary’s interior.
It seemed the place had been designed to resemble a tropical jungle.
Tucked between lush palms and monstera, she made out various birds swooping and flying amid the foliage.
Toward the front of the group stood an older-looking gentleman in a brown bowler hat, matching suit, and spectacles. Mrs. Belver moved to stand beside him.
“I’d like to thank all of you for joining us this morning!
” she said. “The construction of this building has been a dream of mine for many years, and I’m pleased to see it finished at last. To commemorate the occasion, I’ve invited Professor Vernon O’Gilvie, one of Victerra’s leading ornithologists, to provide information about the birds in my collection. ”
The professor mentioned that there were more than sixty different species housed here.
Vesper saw local birds, such as cardinals, chickadees, and finches, but also birds clearly taken from other parts of the world.
The gray shoebill in particular, with its odd angry yellow eyes, had unsettled her quite a bit.
“And now, I’m pleased to present the crown jewel of this wonderful collection!” Professor O’Gilvie announced. “Behold, the northern teratorn!”
The teratorn was the only bird in an enclosure, and Vesper immediately saw why.
It was, by far, the largest and most frightening bird she’d ever seen.
The feathers on the creature’s body varied from rust brown to bloodred, while its crest was bright blue.
She eyed the bird’s hooked black beak and scaly yellow talons, then swallowed.
“As you’ll notice, the teratorn is kept in an entirely separate enclosure from the rest of the aviary,” said Professor O’Gilvie.
“This is because it is a true apex predator, quite capable of killing any and every living creature in this building—including us!” He glanced at the bird with unmistakable affection.
“Fortunately, due to their size, teratorns cannot fly for very long. They rely on their keen eyesight so they can spot prey quickly and attack. Then they require long naps!” He bounced on his heels.
“My wife tells me that sometimes, before supper, I behave just like a teratorn!” He laughed at his own joke, but when no one else did, he cleared his throat.
“Ahem. Well, that concludes the tour. Please feel free to mill about and enjoy the aviary’s attractions! ”
“We’ll then convene for tea on the west lawn!” Mrs. Belver added.
Maximilian leaned in and lowered his voice. “I’m going to work the room and see if anyone wants to talk about Francis,” he murmured. “We can regroup in a few minutes.”