Wizards Daughter

"I tried to thumb through it quickly, but neither aunt would give me a moment's peace. I think they were embarrassed and regretted immediately giving it to me, but I held on, let me tell you."

"If you wish, when we are in our bedchamber, we can look at the pictures together. Should you like that?"

"Yes. Well, no. I don't think I could do that with you peering over my shoulder, your eyes on the same things mine are on. The couples don't have any clothes on, Nicholas. There is not a single petticoat to froth up and hide things."

"And the gentlemen in the pictures? Are they unclothed as well?"

"I looked at as many as I could while Aunt Sophie was trying to gently tug it out of my arms. I think I managed to get a brief glimpse of a good half dozen before-to be on the safe side-I folded it beneath my chemises in my valise hoping they wouldn't filch it. The gentlemen"-she cleared her throat-"well, they looked very strange, not at all like the little boys at Brandon House."

"Strange how?"

"The front of them, low on the front of them-they looked deformed, big and puffed out and, well, one could not help but think there was a tree trunk sticking out of their stomachs."

Nicholas laughed. "Sounds to me like the artist was a man with a grand view of himself, a man who wanted to impress, and that led to a good deal of exaggeration to carry home the point."

She sat forward, her fingers locked together. "What point? I didn't see a point. Now, I don't wish to speak of that book anymore. I don't wish to dive beneath this table to hide my mortified self. I don't like to think what could be under this bloody table when it is dark, and no feet are there in a row to keep strange creatures away."

He merely smiled at her. "Finish your fig pudding. Let's go to the library and request that Grandfather not pay us any bridal visits. Then, we will enjoy ourselves, Rosalind. I promise you everything will be fine. I am your husband and you will trust me."

She chewed on that a moment, then said to his surprise, "Nicholas, do you know why your grandfather's chair fell over when I sang my song?"

Oh, he'd thought about that all right. "We will discuss it, tomorrow at noon, at the earliest."

Block came into the dining room, carrying another branch of lit candles. The light haloed his face, making him look like a ruddy-cheeked devil. "I fancied you might wish to have your port now, my lord."

Was that irony in Block's voice? Nicholas folded his napkin and laid it beside his plate. "No, thank you, Block. We are going upstairs now. Is the house quiet and secure?"

"Yes, my lord. May I say I thought it particularly sensitive of Mr. Pritchard not to dine with you this evening, what with this being your very first evening together at Wyverly Chase, er, and your very first evening together as a married couple?"

"No, Block, you may not say it."

Rosalind choked back a laugh. "Please thank Cook for the delicious meal, Block. My lord?"

Nicholas pulled back her chair and took her arm. "Good night, Block. Ah, tell Mr. Pritchard to hire some additional staff. I can't imagine Cook was pleased to clean all the pots and pans by herself. I will personally speak to each of them, allay their ghostly concerns."

"Very well, my lord, but I don't hold much hope of gaining an additional servant. There's talk in the village, you see, and people are remembering your grandfather and the fact that there was no body."

"I assure you, Block, when Grandfather died, he left his earthly remains behind. After all, what use would he have for his corporeal self in the hereafter?"

"As to that, my lord, you were only a lad, and didn't know anything at all. I remember well what was said by He Who Should Know."

"Who would that be?"

"The physician. You remember Dr. Blankenship, my lord, a fussy little man with wheat-colored hair and eyes so pale he could stare at you and you wouldn't know it? He evidently whispered to his sister that when he made his final visit, the old earl wasn't snug in his coffin, as he should have been. You, my lord, were, of course, already gone."

"I remember Blankenship. What happened to him?"

"I believe he went to France, my lord."

"Well, now, there you have it," Rosalind said. "Very fitting. Anyone who would claim such a thing deserves to wind up in France."

Block nodded. "I must admit that Dr. Blankenship was a strange little man. However, as you may imagine, having the old earl's body missing was a titillating tale. However, we will try, nonetheless, despite knowing we will fail, to bring more servants here."

"What happened to Dr. Blankenship's sister, the one he whispered this to?"

"Why, she still lives in her brother's house in the village, still dines out on her brother's whisper. It appears that our fellow man never tires of hearing about otherworldly phenomena. Unfortunately she is now also drooling in her soup. Ancient she is."

Block trailed them into the library, watched by the door as they spoke briefly to the empty chair in front of the fireplace.

When they came out, Block cleared his throat and stood his ground. "My lord, it is Lee Po."

"What about Lee Po?"

"It is Cook, my lord. At di

"He told her he was a master at noodle preparation, but little else, to which Cook said she'd heard that heathens ate raw octopus and live squid still trying to crawl off your plate. Lee Po laughed, my lord. He informed her that he'd always al-lowed octopi and squid to escape although many times they tangled themselves up in his noodles. Cook was charmed. She batted her eyelashes at him. Such a thing hasn't happened since she was eighteen and fancied herself in love with Willie, the old butcher's son." Block sighed. "I don't know what she will do now. If that weren't enough, Marigold wanted to touch him. He allowed her to lightly lay her palm on his cheek to see if yellow came off on her hand. It didn't. She remarked in a throaty voice that his skin was very nice, soft as-then she began reciting colors. I fear there might be a rivalry brewing between Cook and Marigold, for Lee Po's favor."

"He is quite used to females admiring him, Block. Don't worry about it," Nicholas said. "I remember he even once impressed the empress with his superior tailoring of a sable robe." Nicholas frowned a bit. Lee Po also had a way of making events unfold just as he wished them to. He'd told Nicholas once that they fit together very nicely, both of them with abilities that flew above the heads of normal men. Nicholas didn't like to think about what Lee Po had meant by that.

When he and Rosalind had the master bedchamber within sight four and a half minutes later, Nicholas was breathing hard and fast, his eyes a bit on the glazed side. Rosalind was matching him, step for step. He saw her so clearly-lying naked beneath him and she- He ran the last dozen steps, pulling her with him now. He closed the door, thought about it a moment, then locked it. He left the key in the lock. "Not that a locked door would stop him if Grandfather decides to stir from the library."

"I don't think he was in the library."

Nicholas said, "Perhaps he was sleeping."

Rosalind didn't say anything. She was staring over at the massive bed.