Page 41 of Heir of Uncertain Magic

MissSteverus blinked. “You mean Mr.Baillie?”

Hulda motioned with her hand to urge MissSteverus into silence. “N-Not Mr.Baillie,” she lied, “but I suppose I could ask him. He just ... seems not to care for the discussion.”

MissSteverus nodded. “He’s embarrassed about it.”

That gave Hulda pause. “What makes you say that?”

The secretary glanced toward Mr.Walker’s closed door, which made Hulda feel a pulse of longing for Myra. She’d received another response to one of her missives, but the writer hadn’t seen Myra in two full years. “Monday, Mr.Walker was bothered by something, andhe asked Mr.Baillie to cheer him up, and it was just a mess. He has such little command over the ability, I’m not sure. I do believe”—she leaned closer—“that most hysterians can’tgiveyou a new emotion, they can only manipulate the ones you already have. At least, those are the common spells in the pool.”

Hulda pressed her lips together. She didn’talready havethe tormenting sensations that had plagued her this last week ... or did she? She was worried about Myra, not to mention frustrated that she couldn’t find her. Those feelings might have been manipulated to greater depths. In truth, hysteria, the ninth school of magic, was the one she knew the least about. She’d never tended a hysterical house before—buildings tended to lack emotions.

“As for the distance issue.” MissSteverus tapped a pencil against her lips. “I could look it up after hours.”

“Don’t bother yourself, I can do the same.” It was nearly five o’clock, besides. She’d arranged to meet Merritt outside. Perhaps Gifford would know—

“MissLarkin.”

Her heart flipped as she turned around to spy Mr.Baillie approaching, and she immediately feared he’d overheard something. But she’d been so quiet ... surely not. “Yes?”

“I’d like to discuss Whimbrel House with you.” He gestured toward the small office he’d taken over. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

Hulda glanced out the window at the fading sun. They’d need lanterns soon enough, though BIKER was stocked with many elemental ones. “Might it wait until morning?” She was eager to spend time with Merritt, and not just because of Danielle’s advice.

Mr.Baillie frowned. “I will be brief.”

Tucking away her nerves, Hulda nodded and followed his lead. MissSteverus offered a smile. The gesture pleased her, and she latched on to that satisfaction. If she was cheerful, she couldn’t be depressed by a hysterian, right? That was, presuming his spells were more than helet on, which was total assumption on her part. Then again, both Mr.Walker and MissSteverus believed him harmless. And Mr.Walker, at least, should know what the man was capable of.

But as Mr.Baillie closed the office door behind him, Hulda also recalled the side effects of hysteria: physical pain and apathy. While she hadn’t detected any signs of pain in the lawyer who was now pulling a chair across from the one she was to sit in, he was certainly one of the most apathetic persons of her acquaintance. But that didn’t mean he was bespelling her—

“Sit, please.” He indicated the chair.

Hulda gathered her skirts and sat in the chair, putting about three paces between herself and Mr.Baillie. Pushing forward confidence, she asked, “What would you like to know?”

Mr.Baillie opened a familiar folder. “Whimbrel House was your last assignment?”

“Indeed, up until MissHaigh’s resignation.”

“Why are you no longer stationed there?”

A flicker of trepidation entered her heart. She ignored it. “Because BIKER is ... askew, for a lack of a better word. MissHaigh and I had been discussing my removal from the premises.”

“Why?”

That flicker turned into a cold screw of unease drilling into her chest ... but she was speaking the truth. Nothing about Whimbrel House itself would indict Myra. Or her. She’d gone over her story several times, both alone and with Merritt.

Was this fear she felt hers, or ...

She studied Mr.Baillie’s face, searching for a tell. But he merely looked at the file in his lap. When she didn’t respond, he glanced at her over the rim of his glasses.

“Because Mr.Fernsby had an adequate staff and was capable of overseeing the house himself.”

He wrote something down. “Not because you are having an affair with him?”

The screw sharpened into a knife. Redness pricked Hulda’s cheeks, but she straightened her back, trying to conquer it.How does he know?She supposed he may have seen Merritt reach for her hand when they met ... or perhaps MissTaylor had said something? Either way, it was known, and denying it would do no good. And why should she? She hadn’t broken any rules. “You overstep your bounds, Mr.Baillie.”

“In this case”—he lifted his pen—“it is my job to do so.”

Hulda swallowed. Her pulse was beating too fast. “Affairis a poor term to use. It suggests one of us is married and also that we’ve had sexual encounters. Neither is true. And, I will state for the record, we were not involved untilafterI left my post.”

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