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Well, if this was going to be my lot then I was determined to meet it with dignity. I reached out and started opening the packages of makeup.
Chapter Six
Meredith left me at the top of the main stair with a curtsy and I nearly curtsied back. But she was already turning from me, and I watched her disappear into the servant passage, wanting for all the world to follow. I could hide in that windowless room for the evening and try to come up with a plan to get out of this manor. But, as I might have expected, Derrick was waiting for me. I hadn’t seen him on arriving at the stairs, but he stepped away from the tapestried wall and bent a pleasant bow in my direction.
The Fairy way, I realized, and this time I did curtsy.
He had traded the aviator’s jacket in favor of a black suit and tie, which I thought monstrously unfair. He was already the handsomest creature while arrayed in tattered jackets and scuffed boots, in the fine suit and white shirt he was positively breathtaking. The brass light fixture cast his face into a golden glow, and his full mouth twitched into a dimpling smile as he approached. My stomach fluttered when he closed in, his hand outstretched in invitation, and I eyed the glinting silver of his cufflink as though it might bite me.
“With seven minutes to spare,” he said by way of greeting. “Well done.”
“Most of the preparation was done before we arrived,” I said and slid my gloved fingers into his palm.
It was meant as an accusation, but Derrick was unfazed.
“I anticipated Ms. Maureen would thrust you in front of her dinner guests,” he said. “She loves nothing more than making people squirm, so I tried to take away as much of her advantage as I could.”
Startled, I had to close my mouth from its unbecoming gape and blinked at him. It had not occurred to me that this was a calculated attempt to throw me off guard, but of course Maureen would. If I had to guess, Ms. Maureen was not at all pleased that her daughter asked for a marital counselor and that displeasure was going to be aimed squarely at me.
Power plays, Nana Bess would say.
I wished suddenly the stairs would swallow me whole.
Derrick gave me a wry smirk as he led us down the stairs. “You’ve entered the war zone now, Miss Grayson. No matter how pleasant they appear, trust me when I tell you that any one of these guests would happily sacrifice you for their own gain.”
“All except you, I suppose.”
There was a flicker of something like remorse in his expression and his mouth flattened. I looked to the foyer below where half a dozen people milled about with crystal goblets and evening wear. They were like caricatures from a picture book, all painted colors and fixed smiles, and a hollow dread took residence in my chest.
I thought I would grow used to not having my empathic abilities on hand, but as I stared at the group below, unable to sense a single thing from them, I realized what a defense it truly was. Sure, there was no way to control it, I absorbed all emotion on some level, and I had to concentrate to filter which emotion was coming from whom, but without it I felt blind. Worse than blind, it felt like the whole world had been doused in grey, its vibrancy washed away.
“Nora?” Derrick shifted closer, his shoulder brushing mine as he lowered his voice and tried once more to get my attention. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” I managed to say.
“Are you certain? I could have something sent up for you if you’re feeling poorly. You don’t have to brave the dinner table.”
Without quite understanding why, I brushed off his concern and shook my head. “No. Don’t make a fuss. I’ll be all right.”
He frowned at me, eyes narrowing as though to pierce through a lie, but I reassured him again. Every bone in my body was screaming with exhaustion and the idea of hiding away in my windowless room was tempting beyond measure, but with Derrick standing there, looking as fresh as he had that morning, I couldn’t quite give in to fatigue. If he could handle this, then so could I.
And there was a chance I might glean something useful from these people. Such as directions to the nearest town.
Nodding to the mill of people, I quirked an eyebrow at him. “Introductions?”
Derrick heaved a sigh and took the last two steps into the foyer. He brought us first to a couple congregated beside a grandfather clock so enormous I almost didn’t recognize it. Its brass pendulum swung heavy behind partially frosted glass, and the face of it was opalescent, allowing a foggy view of the internal cogs at work.
Startled, I nearly commented on its size, but Derrick began the introductions, “Harold and Lavenya Norton, parents of the groom.”
Mr. Norton bent at the waist and bowed over my knuckles, murmuring something too low for me to hear. He had a broad face and bushy blond muttonchops going to grey. His mouth was absurdly thin, and I wished dearly that he would grow a beard or something.
But of course, lycanthropes did not do that.
Lavenya Norton was a short, comfortably round woman with greying brown hair and watery blue eyes. Her gaze passed over me once. “So, you’re the infamous counselor Delilah requested.”
“Ridiculous business,” said Harold, his cheeks and muttonchops puffing out. “It’s altogether absurd for her to drag you all the way here. We have plenty of counselors in New York she could have chosen from.”
“It does seem excessive,” Lavenya said.
