Before Elsie could answer, Bacchus said, “Have you not heard? Mrs. Kelsey is a spellbreaker. She has priority.”
The flush faded to a blanch. “Are you really?”
His wife tugged on his arm. “Alfred.”
“We’d best be going.” Bacchus offered only a nod in farewell before escorting Elsie farther down the street. Neither of them looked back. Elsie walked with a straight spine until they turned the next corner.
Then her flat affect slipped, and she broke out in laughter.
“That was brilliant,” she said, releasing his arm and clapping her hands. “Did you see the look on his face? Just brilliant. You’re so direct, Bacchus. It’s quite menacing.”
Bacchus smirked. “Is it?”
She softly jabbed his ribs. “Do not pretend like you did not mean it to be. This was so much more satisfying than the trick we played on Duchess Morris.” Her laughter softened, and she took in their surroundings. A few shops pocked a narrow road. A few boys chatted with one another, one holding a dog’s leash.
“Perhaps I should have asked,” he tried, seeing her expression shift.
But she waved his words away. “Oh no, not that. It’s just . . . you called me Mrs. Kelsey.”
“More or less accurate,” he said. “It has a certain ring to it.”
She smiled, though she seemed to be fighting it. “It does, doesn’t it?”
Four more days. One bright thing in the midst of so much darkness.
Bacchus offered Elsie his elbow, and they slowly made their way back to Brookley.
CHAPTER 20
Some ginger tea and a lot of rest set Ogden to rights again.
After returning to Brookley, Elsie barely left his side. When she did, Emmeline took over, keeping an eye on him, listening to his breathing, checking for fever. Elsie couldn’t imagine how much spellbreaking she’d have to do to exert herself to the point Ogden had. The worst she’d ever experienced was fiercely itchy wrists. Bacchus had told her he’d never suffered anything more than a headache. How much had Ogden struggled on that veranda, casting spells to distract five different guards? And thank goodness for Irene. If she hadn’t distracted the rogue couple, they might have been caught anyway.
Still, when Ogden declared he was going back to Rochester, it made Elsie uneasy.
“Perhaps wait until after the wedding,” she pressed as they ate lunch in the dining room, Emmeline up and about and mothering them per usual. “To make sure.”
“I’m fine.” Ogden tore into a piece of buttered bread. At least his appetite had returned. He’d barely eaten since coming home from the estate sale yesterday. “I need to do it now, before the estate sale ends, in case someone there knows something.”
“If a spellbreaker is present,” Bacchus said, “they might detect you.”
Ogden frowned, picked up his knife, and cut into his pie. “Then I will endeavor to not get caught.”
“What was it that you said the other day, about being the rational one?” Bacchus asked. Elsie wasn’t sure what he meant, but Ogden ignored him.
Elsie worried her lip, but there would be no stopping him, she knew. He was proving himself to be a positively stubborn man. Yet, in a way, he had earned the right to be stubborn.
“One of us should come with you,” she tried.
Ogden rebuffed the statement with a wave of his hand, eating too quickly to give a proper reply. When he finished, he pushed his plate away, wiped his mouth, and stood. “One thing before I go.” He gestured to Elsie to follow, then started for the stairs.
She passed a curious look to Bacchus before following Ogden to the second floor, to his bedroom. He motioned for Elsie to step in, shut the door behind them, then went to the trunks under his bed. He must have rifled through them earlier, because what he was searching for sat at the very top.
A wooden ring box.
“Ogden?” Elsie asked.
“It occurred to me last night that Master Kelsey has not been outfitted with the appropriate matrimonial jewelry.” He held the box in his palm, as though weighing it, before turning to Elsie. “I want you to have this.”
Hesitant, she took the box and gingerly opened it. Inside was a thin gold ring delicately carved to look like a winding snake. The symbol of eternity.
Her lips parted. “O-Ogden—”
“It was my father’s ring.” He shrugged. “I highly doubt I’ll be able to use it myself.”
Closing the box, Elsie shook her head. “I can’t take this.”
“You can.” He closed the gap between them and placed his hand on top of hers, keeping the ring box pressed between her fingers. He looked her in the eyes. “Elsie, you are the closest thing to a daughter I have.”
Tears sprang to her eyes.
“I know you may think otherwise, especially given Merton’s involvement in our lives. But I cherish you, and nothing would make me happier than to pass down this heirloom to my rightful family.”
Elsie pressed her lips together. Sniffed. Wiped her eyes on her sleeve. Nodded.
Ogden smiled and embraced her, his arms encircling her shoulders. Warm and strong, just as a father’s hug should be.
“My father was a sturdy man,” he murmured. “So that ring might even fit that man you have down there.”
Elsie laughed. “He can adjust it either way.” When Ogden pulled back, she added, “I wouldn’t mind being Elsie Ogden. At least for a few days.”
She thought she saw a glimmer of wetness in Ogden’s eyes as well. “I would like that very much.”
Ogden set off shortly after that. Emmeline packed him a dinner, and Elsie packed him a valise, just in case. Bacchus offered him an enchanted pencil, but he’d declined, saying he’d be moving about too much for it to be of any use.
“They have telegrams in Rochester.” It was the last thing he said before donning his hat and leaving the stonemasonry shop.
There wasn’t much to do with Ogden gone, and since the upcoming wedding was so simple, there wasn’t much left to plan. Elsie took to wiping down the counters in the studio and sweeping and mopping. She even took a putty knife to some paint drips on the floor. She had just finished when a dog barked outside. Opening the front door, she saw a post dog panting with a satchel hanging off its side, containing three letters. She took the envelopes and patted the dog’s head. Poor thing was probably sweltering in this July weather.
The dog trotted away, off to the next house, and Elsie stepped inside. The first letter was from Ogden’s mortgager, reminding him of the month’s upcoming payment. The second and third were addressed to Bacchus.
“Oh,” she said, turning the first letter about. It bore the seal of Seven Oaks. The second missive she didn’t recognize.
Setting the bill atop the counter, Elsie hurried upstairs, finding Bacchus drafting a letter of his own in the sitting room. He did that a lot—writing missives to establish himself in London, or sending instructions back home to Barbados. It was all very official sounding.
“You know you’re well and settled in Brookley when you get more mail than we do.” She offered a smile as she crossed the room, handing the mail to him.
Bacchus set down his pen and accepted it. He opened the unfamiliar letter first and read silently. A sigh escaped him.
Elsie took a seat beside him. “What is it?”
“Good news, we’re not homeless.” He handed the letter to her. “Our offer on that townhome in London was approved.”
Mice scurried about in Elsie’s stomach. “Oh.” It was official, then. They would be living somewhere else, together. It was a stark reminder that all of this was actually happening. Hopefully happening. Admittedly, she was sad to say goodbye to the stonemasonry shop. She couldn’t keep her job if she lived so deep in the capital, though without an occupation, she could fully dive into her pretend training as a spellbreaker and earn the official title that much faster. Still, she would miss not seeing Ogden and Emmeline every day. At least she would be closer to Reggie.