“Certainly, you’re not being serious.” She took the paper from him and read it quickly. “We’re to deliver a present to Viscount Ramsdale and his wife.” She looked at Ronald. “What sort of present?”
Ronald reached into his pocket and pulled out a small silver casket. “It’s sealed by magic,” he informed her as he passed it over to her. That meant he’d tried to open it and been unable.
“We’re to deliver it in a sennight?” Sophia looked up from the missive to find Marcus’s watchful gaze on hers. “Why must we wait a sennight? Can’t we just deliver it now and be done with it?”
“Our instructions are to deliver it at the ball. A sennight from today.”
“Oh, I do love a good ball,” her grandmother chimed in, not even looking up from her knitting. “We shall all attend.”
“But we’ll miss the moonful. We won’t be able to return home for more than a fortnight after that.”
“Nevertheless, those are our instructions.” Marcus tossed the missive into the fire, where it shattered like the sparks of flint on steel.
“Well, that’s an interesting turn of events,” Sophia breathed. “I thought they’d never send me on another mission. Perhaps they’ll let me keep my wings, after all?” She arched a brow at Marcus.
“I highly doubt it.”
Sophia raised a finger to her mouth and absently worried a nail, until Margaret shot her a scolding glance for her actions. She huffed and settled onto the bed. Another sennight to prepare for the ball. Then more than another fortnight before she’d leave Ashley’s land. A lifetime without her wings. And without Ashley and Anne.
“I have more time to complete my mission with Lady Anne,” Sophia mused aloud.
But Marcus disagreed. “That mission has been passed on to Claire.”
Sophia jumped to her feet. “You can’t do that.”
He dusted his hands together as he said, “We’re finished with this conversation, Soph. I know you don’t like it. But that mission was always meant for Claire. She’s installed as the girl’s governess, which gives her more access than you currently have.”
“But,” Sophia floundered.
“And no one saw her use her fae magic,” Marcus interjected, his voice harsh enough to break stone. “She’s in a better position than you are.”
Yes, yes, Claire was in a better position than Sophia. She was with the Duke of Robinsworth. And Sophia never would be again.
Nineteen
Ashley closed his ledger and laid his hand flat upon it. He couldn’t come up with one more task that needed doing. Nothing else was pending his approval. No one needed to be paid. No one needed his counsel. He’d avoided bed until the wee hours of the morning, knowing that he’d feel lonelier than ever when he went into his empty bedchamber.
It had been six days since she’d left. Sophia had only visited him there twice, but he could still smell her in the room. Still feel her pressed against his side as he played. Still hear the cadence of her wicked little breaths as the music excited her.
He scrubbed a hand down his face in frustration. He’d learned to avoid his nose, which was healing much nicer than he’d anticipated. No bruising and very little inflammation. But his nose just made him think about Sophia again. Everything made him think about her.
He groaned to himself and settled deeper into his chair.
But then heavy, quick footsteps sounded in the corridor. Finn burst into his study as though the hounds of hell were upon his heels. His hair stuck out in every direction, and his clothes were covered with trail dust. He was missing his cravat.
Ashley leapt to his feet. “Who died?”
Finn crossed to the sideboard and poured himself a healthy shot of whiskey, tossed it back, grimaced for a moment, then shook his head and grinned. “I found her.”
Ashley crossed to stand in front of his desk, hitching his hip upon the edge as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“Oh, stop trying to look so imposing,” Finn groused as he poured another shot of whiskey. “It took nearly a sennight, but I found the Thornes. All of them. They’re at the Slipper and Stocking.”
They were less than a half day’s ride away? “Are you quite certain it was them?”
“More than quite,” Finn said. Ashley crossed the room and put the whiskey away. Finn scowled at him. “I bring you good tidings and you hide the whiskey? How dare you?”
“If you drink much more, you won’t be able to tell me what you’ve learned.” Ashley settled into a chair and reached out one foot to kick a chair closer to Finn. “Sit. Pray tell me everything.”