Call Me Ifrit

Chapter 1

The inevitable, which I had avoided for an impressively long time, has finally arrived. There was no way I could get out of another one.

My aunt was dragging me to yet another ball.

I suppose it was only a matter of time. After I returned home, although I use the term loosely, after months of trekking through the Amazon (an exciting adventure nobody except me, my employer, and my favorite Mohammedan knew anything about) without a husband (although my actions in the aforementioned location might suggest otherwise) she was back on task to wedding me off to the highest bidder. Err, most eligible bachelor.

My thoughts drifted to a bachelor that was quite eligible, but I would bet every penny I proudly worked for that he would never bid on something as cumbersome as a wife. He was as greedy with his money as those jungle-infesting, buzzing vermin had been with my blood. In other words, he gave my beloved, isolated uncle—although his isolation contributed to the reason I loved him so much—a run for his money for the Stingiest Man in London Award.

Ah, dear Uncle Bufford. We had grown ever so much more tolerant of each other since I stopped needing an allowance from him. He, in return, ignored whatever unbecoming actions a lady of society such as myself decided to partake in. It was quite a beautiful, symbiotic relationship, which landed him the highly coveted position of second-favorite-family-member.

The proud owner of the Lillian's-favorite-family-member title brought me out of my musings with another hard tug on my corset. I wheezed out a breath of protest.

"Not so tight, Ella!"

My younger, sweet sister clucked her tongue in disapproval. "Be thankful it is me who is doing up your corset and not auntie. It would be twice as tight if she had her way."

Ah, my sister. Always the optimist. That is, so long as she had no suitors distracting her from her backyard romance with our neighbor's son. She turned into a dramatic, sniveling mess when that happened, just like all the damsels in those silly romance novels she liked to read. I preferred science and geography and tales of adventure.

Like an adventure hunting for ancient treasure in a far-off land?

Precisely!

And run-ins with ruthless rebels and pigheaded, I mean, Portuguese armies?

Yes! Yes, exactly!

And adventures of rolling around in the jungle with an attractive, confident man?

Absol— no! No, not those kinds of adventures!

"Done!" Ella announced.

I sighed in relief, slipping on my dress and allowing Ella to tame my hair. I had to remind myself that I used to wear dresses and corsets every day. I really was getting used to my new trousers and waistcoat, and that period of not wearing a corset was the happiest I could remember myself being in quite a while.

Are you sure it was only because of the corset you decided to discard?

Damn and blast this little voice in my head!

"Girls!" the call of our lovely household's matriarch shrilled. "Are you ready yet? Lady Agatha is expecting us!"

"Of course she is," I whispered. "Dreading us, more likely."

"Coming, Aunt!" Ella called back, stifling her giggles.

"Well, hurry up! The coach is waiting!"

Ella and I grabbed our fans and hurried from the house at our aunt's persistent barking, joining our four other sisters in the cramped coach and setting off for, apparently, Lady Agatha's. It was truly a wonder to me how my aunt always managed to wrangle up an invitation for all of us to, what appeared to be, every bloody ball thrown in the entire city.

Here we go again...

Aunt lectured us the entire ride there.

Smile. Dance with every male in the room. Twice. Flutter your eyelashes. Basically, make complete fools of yourselves until at least one gentleman takes an interest in you. And once you have him in your clutches, do not let go!

Well, that was basically what she told us, just more...flowery.

Her stare pierced me most of the time during her monologue, staring at me the same way Mr. Ambrose stared at a price tag—as if I'd offended her by simply existing. I tried staring at her with the same big-eyed, innocent stare Ella pulled, but I don't think mine was quite so convincing, judging by her pursed lips and narrowed eyes. Not even my smile could lessen her glare! Honestly, it was as if I possessed no feminine charm at all.

Oh, wait. That's because I didn't.

No matter. I could handle my aunt's glares if I could handle the freezing looks Mr. Ambrose gave me on a daily basis. Nobody could glare like my dear employer.

Besides, who needed charm when I worked for my own money and didn't need nor desire a husband? The thought of marriage made me feel slightly queasy, in fact. I was a feminist, thank you very much! I wanted to vote and work and wear trousers, not change diapers on babies and prick my fingers on needlework all day!

Lady Agatha greeted us cordially, and my sisters and aunt appropriately "ooh"ed and "ahh"ed over the decorations, the food, the drinks, the company, the curtains, the blah blah blah.

Oh! Curtains!

Having successfully pulled this trick before, I smiled pleasantly and curtsied clumsily and, as quickly as I could, hurried over to the buffet table where many military men were standing. My aunt nodded approvingly as I scurried along, thinking I was taking a fancy to the stuffy gentlemen. Well, that should deter her from searching for me for a while. I snatched up some snacks before making my way towards the heavy drapes that could adequately hide me for the remainder of this dreadful night.

I spotted my three friends—Patsy, Flora, and Eve—but I couldn't venture out of my hiding spot without risking being attacked by men wanting to dance or make idle small talk. I was perfectly cozy in my lone little corner.

"Why is it that I always find you in the oddest of places, Miss Linton?"

Then again, maybe my little corner wasn't as lonesome as I'd hoped.