Page 32 of The Starling and the Hatter

I told myself to take courage and tried my best to disconnect my mind from my hands as I searched the top several inches at the back of her skirt, my fingers brushing against her stays.

Focus. Focus. Focus.

Something stabbed my finger. “Ow.”

“Are you all right?”

“Fine. I found the pin,” I said with bitterness as I pulled it from the fabric. I went around her and put the pin on a table, keeping my face turned firmly away from her. “You’re not in costume,” I commented.

“No. Robert asked me to walk with him this morning. He’d like to show me his act.”

I nodded. I should keep my mouth shut. I shouldn’t ask the thing I wanted to ask. But I didn’t listen to my own advice. I turned to look at her. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course,” she said, glancing up as she tied the laces at the front of her bodice.

“When was it you decided I was a brother to you?”

Her gaze shot to mine, and there it froze. “You’re not.”

I tried to shrug it off. “It’s not that I mind. I’m happy to help if you need it. I was just…curious,” I said, trying to make my voice even so I wouldn’t reveal my hurt.

The bridge of her nose pinched together in concern. “You think I see you as a brother?”

I nodded. She certainly didn’t see me as more than that.

She huffed an angry sigh and looked away before piercing me with a cold stare. “Hatch, if I thought of you like a brother, I would not trust you. I would not confide in you. I would not ask you for favors.”

My brow pulled down.

“I’ve had enough brothers for one lifetime, and I do not wish for any more.” She swallowed even as her chin tilted up in defiance.

My world tipped sideways. Had enough brothers? I didn’t know she’d had any. “I thought you had no family.”

She blinked and pulled back. “I don’t. Or at least, I wish I didn’t. For all intents and purposes, I am alone.” She refocused on the task at hand, securing the ties of her skirt.

“But you have brothers? That are still living?”

“Unfortunately.” She stared at the ground, her face a haunted mask.

A roiling protectiveness rose up inside me. What would make a young woman abandon the connection and protection of family? We had met when she’d been utterly alone and terrified…had she been terrified of her own family?

“That’s not the point,” she said suddenly, shaking her head like she could shake away the memories that seemed to torment her. “You accused me of treating you like a brother, and I want to be sure you know that’s not how I see you.”

I wished I could be fully relieved by her declaration, but I had the sinking suspicion that on this subject, we did not see things the same. I had meant to point out that our relationship was a platonic one. It was my pathetic attempt at hinting that I wanted more from her than just a familial relationship, and it had taken more bravery than I wanted to admit. But that hint had missed its mark entirely because somewhere in Elise’s past, her family had distorted what it meant to be family. She was reassuring me that she saw me as a good person, someone to be trusted—unlike her brothers.

“All right” was all I could say. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s fine,” she said, brushing the conversation aside, and crouched down to look through a bin of scarves.

I decided to leave it. Though curiosity burned in my gut, I told myself to wait. I told myself that she’d confided in me. It had been a small amount, but it was something. She had brothers, and she did not like them. She may have even fled from them.

She chose a scarf and wrapped it around her head, knotting it at the nape of her neck, hiding all her hair. Then she placed the feathered and veiled hat on her head. My mouth pulled down into a frown as I started to wonder if Elise’s desire to obscure her identity had more to do with running from her past than a need to be mysterious as the Starling.

Elise

I was watching Robert perform when I saw her. It was the bright-red cloak that caught my eye. I remembered that cloak well. So when I caught sight of it, I didn’t think. I just followed after, wandering away from Robert. I examined the girl from behind. A long, blonde braid lay against her spine, and the top of her head didn’t reach the shoulder of the man who walked beside her.

It was her, the girl my brother had nicknamed Little Red. I wondered if she still carried the knife I’d seen her wield against my brothers.