Page 59 of Boy of Chaotic Making

Merritt watched the fire dance for a moment. “I find it interesting that you waited for Cora to leave when discussing the matter,” he said carefully, “but don’t give a second thought to Owein’s presence.”

Her gaze shot to Owein. She sniffed.

“He’s human. Just as human as I am. He simply doesn’t look it.” Merritt reached over and stroked between Owein’s ears. “He was a boy who became a house, who was torn from his walls and shoved inside a dog. His own body was taken at the age of twelve.” He sighed. “What he wants, whatwewant, is the opportunity for him to live the life he lost too young.”

Briar’s mouth twisted. She mulled over that for a few beats. “I do appreciate you being open to the discussion, unlike my parents. It is my understanding that Owein is quite old. Not merely a boy.”

Owein laid his head on his paws, pulling from Merritt’s grip. Merritt said, “It’s complicated.” Seeking another line of conversation, he asked, “What were you reading?”

“Nothing my mother would care for,” she said, turning back a page. “It’s American fiction calledA Pauper in the Making. It’s different. Rather interesting. Perhaps considered a little grotesque by polite society.”

Merritt couldn’t help grinning. “I don’t think it’s grotesque. Perhapsenthralling.”

She glanced at him. “Have you read it?”

“I wrote it.”

Her eyes widened. She turned to the cover and checked the author’s name. “My goodness. Right there. Merritt J. Fernsby.” A laugh choked out of her. “What are the odds?” She studied the cover a second longer before turning back to her place. “Itisenthralling.”

“No need to appease me,” he offered.

“I think I’ve made it clear my goal is not to appease either of you,” she said, though not in an unfriendly manner. “I don’t think I could ever write a book, but I do enjoy reading.” She paused, looking him over much as she had the book in her hands. “It’s a pity you didn’t come around sooner. You’ve probably enough magic to appease even my family, and then at least I’d have someone to discuss books with.”

Merritt wasn’t prone to flushing, but the fire did suddenly seem a few degrees warmer. He thought to make a comment about her being a little young for him, but it died on his tongue.

Fortunately, Briar, unruffled, added, “I do hope you and Miss Larkin will be happy.”

Owein lifted his head, ears up.

An awkward chuckle escaped him as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Th-Thank you. I think—”

Lady Helen walked in just then, hip hitting the door and opening it wide. “I’ve come up with the most splendid idea!” She passed a peeved glance at Briar before sitting as far from her as the room would allow. “Now that this predicament has cleared up, we shall have a distraction. A tour of the Tower of London and a grand luncheon! Outside, if the weather cooperates, but of course we won’t hold our breath for that, unless I can hire some wizards to make it pleasant for us. I think it will be a great opportunity for Owein to get to know us and the royal family a little better, and to get out of this dreary house. As early as Monday, I think. Wouldn’t that be pleasant?”

Rising to his paws, Owein asked,What’s the Tower of London?

Before Merritt could ask, Briar said, “I’m afraid I will not be in attendance. I’m scheduled for Buckingham.”

Lady Helen’s good mood instantly evaporated. “Really, Briar. Even if you’re still set on that fool’s errand, must you bring it up in front of ourguests?” She shot an apologetic look to Owein, then to Merritt. “All the better you don’t come! As I said, I want the outing to bepleasant.”

Briar closed the book and stood. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Lady Helen waved a hand in dismissal. “I think it would be quite fun. And a great way to learn a thing or two before our dinner Tuesday night. Did I mention that? I’m having some cousins over, and”—she glanced behind her to ensure Briar had departed—“I’ve invited the queen herself, ha! Whether or not Her Majesty can attend is undecided; she’s a very busy woman, but it wasshewho had the brilliant idea of arranging this match, however much my eldest daughter wants to deny it. As for the Tower of London, we’ve turned it into a royal agglomeration in recent years, after filling in that dreadful moat. Some of the Crown Jewels are kept there, as well as a display of our magical history I think you’ll find most interesting. And the armaments are certainly impressive. Now, in regard to food, Mr. Mansel, do tell me if you have a preference between fowl. I mean to make up for every harrowing happenstance that has occurred under my roof and work my way into both of your good graces! My cook has a most excellent pheasant recipe, but it’s come to my attention that canines cannot consume raisins—”

Once Lady Helen moved on to a general discussion of weddings and noble life, Merritt slipped from the drawing room—after making sure Owein was comfortable, of course. Owein had his letterboard, not that replying was particularly essential when Lady Helen got into one of her orations. He’d come back for his coat later. He was warm again, thank goodness, and had other things on his mind he needed to address.

Fate sensed he needed to address them as well, for the number-one item on his list walked through the front doors just as he entered the vestibule. Hulda nodded politely to the footman letting her in but didn’t look up enough to notice Merritt. Seemed she had quite a bit on her mind as well.

He met her near the stairs. “How was it?”

She started, hand flying to her chest. “Oh, Merritt. Well enough, though my brain feels like it’s been filtered through a very fine sieve.”

“You were gone awhile.” They started up the stairs.

“I stopped at LIKER.” She patted her black bag. “And Professor Griffiths had me do a number of exercises, and when it comes to the mind, nothing can be rushed. Granted, augury isn’t strictly of the mind, like psychometry, but it’s what’s used ... oh, I don’t need to detail it to you.” She rubbed her forehead.

“Headache?” he asked.

“Only a small one. It will pass.”

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