The houses became grander, and more peculiar, as they drove through the affluent areas of the city. The aristocracy flaunted their magical powers with their very own homes. Imposing marble edifices snuggled up to fanciful towers of gemstone and spun sugar. Stately parks held animated statues, and fountains sparkled with liquid diamonds. Odd-shaped trees mixed with enormous oaks, while flowers of luminous color swayed next to bushes of tamed roses.
So bright and strange and beautiful. Millicent felt the sudden urge to stay aboveground forever.
She sat back against the cushions of the seat. She would never get an opportunity to do so. She belonged in the Underground, in the darkness, with the rest of the creatures of the night. Even now, she felt her beast clawing to the surface, panicked at all of the open space around her, the tall buildings and crowded streets only adding to her tension.
The carriage entered a large square, stopped in front of a mansion decorated with thousands of white peacocks. They roosted on every windowsill, abnormally long tails of delicate feathers sweeping down to the next story. Two stood silent sentry next to the door, and one enormous bird spread his feathers in a white arc on top of the home, neatly shading the entire house.
Millicent focused her attention, and the illusions faded to reveal a grand mansion of white stone and soaring columns. She frowned and relaxed her vision so the illusion could return. The home was impressive enough without the addition of the birds, and she wondered about the vagaries of the aristocracy.
When Millicent met with Claire within the elegant withdrawing room of Sothby Manor, she had her answers. Rich oak paneled the walls of the room, and the furniture had been upholstered in shades of lavender and blue. Each piece had been carved with intricate designs of cherubs and fawns and centaurs. A harp stood in one corner, the strings shivering to some muted tune, and the heavy drapes swayed to a nonexistent breeze. Just a touch of magical illusion then, but enough to give the room charm without being alarming.
“My heavens,” said Claire as she breezed into the room. “What a lovely surprise.”
“I’m sorry to call on you uninvited,” replied Millicent. “But I have come on an important errand.”
Lady Yardley froze, studied Millicent for a long moment. “What has happened? You are… changed since I last saw you.”
For just an instant, Millicent wanted to confide in Claire. Wanted to tell her about her relationship with Gareth, and her love for the magic man, and perhaps between the two of them, they could think of another way… But no, she had come for a greater purpose. Her own problems were of little consequence in comparison.
“I have something to tell you that might be difficult for you to believe. It involves the Duke of Ghoulston.”
“Willie? Why, whatever could that old goose have done to put such a look upon your face?” She held up a hand. “Wait, let me ring for tea first, and let us get comfortable. I cannot forget my duties as hostess, no matter how outrageously curious you have made me.”
Claire tugged on a bellpull, and then sat on a velvet settee, arranging her skirts around her feet, before patting the space next to her. Her blue morning gown made her hazel eyes appear a deep aqua, and her auburn hair had been dressed with miniature white peacock feathers.
At the same moment as Millicent sat down, a maid appeared in the doorway and one of the birds curled about the newel post in the hall let out a tremendous cacophony of screeches.
“I sense a theme, here,” murmured Millicent.
Claire smiled rather sheepishly. “They are beautiful creatures, but I had no idea when I created them that they would be so loud.” She turned and instructed the maid to bring tea, then looked back at Millicent with a shrug. “Father insists I practice, you see, and although Mother tells me to find a husband instead, I am determined to work on my craft. Unfortunately, my spells have a tendency to… multiply… spontaneously. I created the illusion of one bird, and the next thing I knew, the mansion was covered with thousands of them.” She rolled her eyes. “Father is regretting his insistence that I practice, and Mother tells him ‘I told you so’ several times a day.”
The maid brought in a silver service of tea, spread it on the table in front of them, and Lady Yardley began to pour. “Close the door on the way out, Sarah. Sugar, Lady Millicent?”
“Please.”
“Just be grateful you did not choose to visit last week,” continued Claire. “I had a passion for hummingbirds. Such charming little birds. One would not think a horde of them would be so alarming.” She gave a delicate shudder. “We are still removing their nests from Mother’s wigs.”
The door closed.
“But enough of my problems. What has brought you here, Millicent? The last time I saw you… oh, is that it? Have you finally succumbed to the charms of the magic man?”
Millicent nodded.
“You poor dear. I imagine it was rather… alarming.” She lowered her voice. “To discover one’s most secret desires at such a tender age… and from such a conservative background… But do not take it to heart, my dear. It is better to know oneself before marriage, at any rate. It will make the choosing of a husband much easier. Not that I know myself… err, it is what Lady Chatterly always says.”
Millicent nodded again, feeling as if her neck were made of rubber. Thank goodness she had not given in to the urge to tell Claire about Gareth. The other woman had obviously never been in love before. She would not understand.
“Dearest Millicent. I don’t mean to be insensitive to your plight, but honestly, you have me atwitter with curiosity about Willie. If you don’t share your gossip this moment, I may burst.”
“It is not merely gossip, Lady Yardley. I am afraid you must brace yourself for some unpleasant revelations.”
Claire sipped her tea, and set it back on the porcelain saucer with a clatter. “You are frightening me.”
“I mean to. What I am about to tell you will be difficult for you to believe. The Duke of Ghoulston is a man with two faces. And I don’t think you’ve seen the one I am about to tell you of. And I… I am not the person you think I am.”
A peacock screamed.
Claire jumped, skirts rustling, then gave a nervous laugh.
Millicent took a sip of her tea. Chamomile. Perfect. The mellow flavor soothed her and warmed her throat. “It all began in the Underground—”
“Oh, Millicent, please. Secret caverns created by dark sorcery beneath London are nothing but a myth used to scare naughty children.”
“Then I have lived my entire life in a myth.” Millicent set down her tea and stood, walked across the room to the window. She opened the glass-paned windows, ruffling the feathers of the peacock that perched on the ornate ledge. She caught a glimpse of tiny iridescent wings off to her left, and realized that a few of Claire’s hummingbirds must still be about. She shifted, her panther sniffing with delight at the delicious smell of the fat peacock. She leaped, grasped the neck of the bird with her jaws, cracked it with a shake, and began to gorge. Her beast growled with disgust, for the bird was just an illusion, and did not fill her belly.
Millicent shifted back to human with blood still smeared around her mouth.
She hoped she had judged Claire correctly, and the woman would not faint.
Lady Yardley’s face drained of all color as she stared at Millicent. She clasped a hand about her throat and swallowed. “Was that really necessary? I already guessed you were a shape-shifter. I even deduced you were some sort of cat.”