Wyrde and Wild by Charlotte E. English

Author:Charlotte E. English [English, Charlotte E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gaslamp fantasy, funny fantasy, humorous fantasy, regency fantasy
Publisher: Frouse Books
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

***

Following his uncomfortable encounter with his esteemed parents and Mr. Ballantine, Theo felt unaccountably disordered.

‘It was a deal of nonsense,’ he reminded himself. ‘There is no need to be in a pelter about it now.’

He thought of going into the book-room, and consoling himself with a little reading. There was a decent volume on the process of decomposition which he had not yet perused; a favourite of his father’s, by report. That ought to disperse the morning’s various confusions, and restore him to himself.

But if he were to remain in the book-room, someone was bound to discover him there, and plague him with more questions. Or, still worse, find him all sorts of unpleasant things to do. He would just creep in for a moment, retrieve the volume, and—

‘My dear Theo!’ The voice hailed him the moment he opened the door, and Honoria’s head materialised, greeting him with a ghastly grin. ‘Just the man we want! Come in.’

‘No, I was only—’ Theo tried.

‘You must,’ Honoria hissed. ‘It is a matter of the gravest urgency.’

‘It is to do with those infernal actresses, I suppose,’ Theo sighed, resigned, for the moment, to his fate.

A cold wind swept through the shadowed room, raising a cloud of dust, and the door slammed behind him.

Theo sneezed, surprised. Where had the wind come from? The windows were closed. He saw only Ivo Farthing hovering over the hearth, and smiling.

‘Infernal?’ Unusually, Lady Honoria manifested the rest of her corporeal form, bit by bit, a slightly stout figure in an outmoded, half-decayed gown. Her full skirts raised whorls of dust as she swept across the book-room, and stood frowning at Theo, her arms folded. ‘You have been cosy enough with one of them, hm?’

‘Hardly,’ Theo protested.

‘Don’t trouble to deny it! I saw the whole thing, and so did Ivo.’

‘That’s right,’ said Farthing.

Theo cast his mind back. He supposed they were speaking of Mrs. Daughtry, for he had spent a quantity of time in her company that morning, had he not? He recollected crystal-blue eyes, and a sweet smile. Her gown, too: a pale grey, he thought, and embroidered with— something. But these ideas swam hazily through his befuddled mind, and brought few other memories with them.

‘Er,’ he said. ‘What did you see, exactly?’

‘Why, you and that young lady, thick as thieves!’ said Honoria, with strong disapproval. ‘Hanging on her every word, you were, and ready to jump down the throats of anybody as merely asked her a question!’

Theo said nothing, racking his brains for some corroborating recollection. ‘Er. You are certain it was me, I suppose?’

‘As certain as that I stand here! What can you mean by such a question? Really, Theo, this dissembling is beneath you.’

But Ivo Farthing drifted nearer, and looked keenly into Theo’s eyes. ‘I am not certain he is dissembling, my dear,’ he said, his ordinarily amiable face grave.

‘Of course he is, how perfectly absurd—’

‘What was it you wanted?’ Theo interrupted. ‘You said it was a matter of urgency, and I want to read.’

‘It is that actress,’ intoned Honoria.

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