Page 30 of The Falconer

I smile then. ‘That would be an admission I was there. I was in the ladies’ parlour with a headache, remember?’

Catherine doesn’t return my smile. ‘I don’t know what you’ve got yourself into, but if it’s serious, you should tell me.’

I’m tempted. Only faeries know my secret; most of them die after learning it. Catherine is my last connection to a normal life, to the one I had before I became . . .this. If only she knew how important it is that I have one thing left untouched by the fae. She grounds me in my humanity, what little remains of it.

‘I can’t,’ I say softly.

She lowers her gaze. ‘Are you safe, at least?’

‘I promise I am.’ It’s so much better to keep lying than tell her even that bit of truth.

She wipes away her tears. ‘I should never have let the horrid gossip get to me like that. I’m so sorry I doubted you.’

‘There’s no need to apologise. I doubt myself all the time.’

Nodding, she clears her throat. ‘You must promise me that this headache will not return during Gavin’s ball.’ When I do nothing but stare at her, Catherine scowls. ‘You did remember, didn’t you?’

I return to sipping my tea. ‘Aye. Your dear brother . . . who is at Oxford—’

‘And who is returning tomorrow—’

‘Of course,’ I say brightly. ‘How could I forget that?’

Catherine clearly sees right past my lie. ‘We are hosting a ball in his honour and you assured me that you would save me from the clutches of tedium.’

‘And so I shall,’ I say. ‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world.’

I should be glad Gavin is returning. Before he left for Oxford two years ago, we had been good friends since childhood. Indeed, I once fancied the idea of us marrying someday. But now he’ll just be another complication.

‘And you will dance with every gentleman who signs your card.’

‘I will dance with every man who signs my card,’ I vow.

All a lady has is her reputation, and mine must be so questionable by now if even my dearest friend almost believed me capable of violence. I should try harder, as Father wishes. I should do my duty and put on my false cheerful face. No disappearing after a dance. I should go to the ball and behave like the lady I’m expected to be.

Unless, of course, a faery shows up and I have to save yet another elderly gentleman from its clutches.

Catherine beams. ‘Now. I believe I was promised shortbread.’

‘The primary reason you’re here, I suspect.’ I glance out of the window. ‘Shortbread and lunch, then a jaunt to the park. We might not see the sun again until spring, after all.’

After luncheon, Catherine, Dona and I leave the house and set out towards the centre of Charlotte Square, where my ornithopter is parked. Mine is the only one still there, so the other families must have taken out their own flying machines to avoid the traffic.

I glide my fingers along the structure. When I built it, I made sure the metal boning was light and sturdy enough to flap exactly like bat wings. Spanning more than thirty feet when extended, the wings are positioned with interworking steel gears that revolve and twist to keep the machine in flight.

The steel and wooden-planked interior took the longest time to build. The small cabin has a retractable rain visor for inclement weather, though I prefer to fly with the top down. Two people can sit comfortably inside on the moulded leather seats, but Catherine insisted on bringing Dona along as our chaperone so we will be a bit crowded today.

‘We mustn’t call too much attention to ourselves or word will get back to Mother,’ Catherine says as she tosses in her reticule. ‘I’ll be in enough trouble already with her as it is for not taking my maid with me. I just know she’s going to lecture me on etiquette again.’

‘No need to explain,’ I say. ‘Father already lectured me on that very subject.’

Catherine pauses. ‘So, he’s returned then?’ She says it lightly, but with a hint of disapproval.

‘Aye. Just before you arrived.’

‘Oh dear. What did he say?’

What you want isn’t important.

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