A Lady and Her Magic (Faerie 1)

Marcus nearly fell from the windowsill. “He did?” he croaked.

“Shh,” Sophia warned, placing a finger against her lips. Ashley’s eyes moved toward the window, but then were drawn back to his daughter.

“He did?” Marcus whispered back. “He admitted it?”

She shrugged. “More like he alluded to it.”

“Did he or didn’t he?” Marcus growled.

“He didn’t.” She straightened her back and flexed her wings at him. “I’d stake my wings on it.”

Marcus whistled low under his breath. “You probably have, Soph,” he said quietly.

“I know.” She did know. What more could she say? But something told her Ashley was innocent. Now she just had to prove it.

Fifteen

The next morning, Sophia woke to find the sun already peeking over the horizon. She jumped to her feet and made for the washbasin. If she wanted to intercept Ashley and Lady Anne before the rest of the inhabitants of the Hall did, her best bet would be to catch them during the private breakfast they shared each morning.

As Sophia tugged her nightrail over her head, she couldn’t help but wonder where Margaret was. She was supposed to be helping her with these confounded human clothes, even if she found the task of waiting on Sophia distasteful. Sophia knew she’d placed Margaret in an awkward situation, but she’d do her best to make it up to the house faerie.

A cough from the window jerked Sophia from her reverie. Actually, it sounded more like someone choking. She spun quickly, not surprised at all to find Ronald perched on the open windowsill. She shivered as the coolness of the morning slipped beneath her nightrail and tickled her ankles. “You could at least close the window,” she scolded.

But Ronald just sat there and swung his feet, looking supremely satisfied with himself. Why did that bode poorly for Sophia? She stopped and faced him. He looked much too confident for her pleasure. “I’ve been given a new post,” he said with glee, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

A new post? “What sort of new post?” Sophia was almost afraid to ask.

He hopped down from the windowsill and turned to pull the pane closed. But his legs were a little too short. Smothering a laugh, Sophia closed it for him.

“I could have done it,” he groused.

“Of course, you could,” Sophia agreed. Once he got a chair and some books to stand upon, perhaps. But saying so would hurt his feelings. And Ronald with hurt feelings was worse than Ronald on a mission. “Tell me about your new post,” she encouraged.

He preened, tugging on his short little waistcoat. “I’m to be your shadow.” He grinned with satisfaction.

“By whose orders?” Sophia could already imagine. But she should probably hear him say it before she negated her brother’s orders.

“Your brother arrived last night.” Ronald didn’t say anything else. Just that.

“I’m aware of that.”

“He’s not very pleased with your situation.” Ronald looked much too gleeful. The little tuft of red hair on the top of his head twitched along with his dancing eyebrows. The sight of it made Sophia want to laugh. But she restrained herself. It was difficult, however. He gave a mighty tug to his waistcoat again. “He has dispatched me as your shadow.”

So now Ronald would have permission to skulk around behind her. Lovely. He did so, regardless of anyone’s orders. Sophia rolled her eyes for show. “He did no such thing.”

“He did. He did so. He did require my services. You require my services. Your family requires my services.” He began to pace. “Your mission requires my services. He said so.”

Sophia sighed heavily. “I’ll have him rescind your orders.”

Ronald’s chest puffed out. “You will do no such thing. I can make a fantastic shadow.”

Too fantastic. She’d never be able to get him out from under her feet.

“Shadow… doormat… They’re very much the same thing, are they not?”

“Certainly, they’re not,” he said with a little snort. “I’ll be there to protect you. From the dangerous duke. From yourself.” He pointed his stubby little finger at her.

“Where is Marcus?” she asked with a huff.