Shades of Milk and Honey by Mary Robinette Kowal

Author:Mary Robinette Kowal
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: England - Social life and customs - 19th century, Conduct of life, England, Mate selection, Fantasy fiction, General, Romance, Fantasy, Young women, Sisters, Magic, Regency fiction, Fiction, Women
ISBN: 9780765325563
Publisher: Tor Books
Published: 2010-08-03T13:56:16+00:00

Thirteen

The Beast Upset

Mr. Vincent’s collapse caused the room to overturn itself in a chaos of emotion. Ladies who had pretended to fright when they saw the Beast conjured from glamour now sank, senseless, under the conviction that Mr. Vincent was dying. Lady FitzCameron fell back in her chair, face as pale as Mr. Vincent’s, unable to speak for the horror.

Mr. Dunkirk knelt by the ailing glamourist and held his shoulders firmly against the tremors that quaked through his body. He looked up and his eyes found Jane. “What do we do?”

At his words, those closest turned to her. With horror, Jane realized that she was the most experienced glamourist in the room. “A surgeon. Someone must fetch a surgeon.”

Captain Livingston was out of the room in a moment, shouting for his horse.

If Dr. Smythe, the closest surgeon, were out on a call, it could take hours for him to return. Meanwhile, something must be done; but the home remedies were so paltry. “We must cool him.” Jane pulled folds of glamour out of the ether and wrapped a cooling charm around Mr. Vincent. She took deep breaths, her ribs pressing against her stays as she worked the folds. Without taking her attention from Mr. Vincent, she asked, “Is there a cold-monger?”

In a house such as this, there must be.

In short order, the cold-monger was summoned. Working together, he and Jane traded the folds of chill between them as Mr. Vincent was carried to a guest room. Once he was established in the bed, Jane passed all control of the folds to the cold-monger and watched as he used his exquisite and specific control over the folds to create a layer of cold air around Mr. Vincent. She placed her hand in the cool air and instructed the cold-monger to bring it to a point that was cold enough to bring the fever raging through Mr. Vincent’s body under control, but not so cold as to damage him. That done, the cold-monger tied the folds off. Jane herself took a cloth dipped in water and dribbled it into Mr. Vincent’s mouth, knowing that next to overheating, dehydration was the greatest danger.

She had never overexerted herself with glamour this severely, but she well remembered the cautionary tales with which her tutor had frightened her. Like a horse run too long and too hard, Mr. Vincent’s heart could burst if they could not cool him down sufficiently.

With the application of the cold-monger’s craft, Mr. Vincent’s spasming grew less severe, but his breath was still ragged and his pulse too fast. It seemed forever before the surgeon arrived. When he did, he strode straight into the room, without so much as taking off his greatcoat.

Dr. Smythe felt Mr. Vincent’s pulse and his face turned grave. Surveying the folds of chill surrounding Mr. Vincent, he said that they had probably saved his life, but whether he would regain his senses was beyond the surgeon’s power to judge. Then, Jane was forced to quit the room as the surgeon decided to remove Mr.

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