Captive Magics

22 - Preparation

Taking a housebreaking seriously – there was no room now for Leander to consider whether this was a good idea – meant there was a lot more to do before they travelled north again. Lissy spent days in her workshop, often helped by Leander as she worked. Soon, they would be ready, but there were lists of things to be done first, and lists of things to shop for.

Shopping was one of Leander's least-liked activities, but the thought of being bludgeoned to death by the furious stones of Fanton Court was distracting enough for him not to remember this as they traipsed down the street from greengrocer's to glazier's. In fact, his frown was enough to send people scurrying in a large arc around he and Lissy as they walked.

"Leander!" he heard someone cry from behind him, before a fist clutched his sleeve and pulled him around to face its owner.

"Caroline?"

"It is you!" she cried, hand flying to her mouth. She stared silently for a moment, eyes watering, and with a seeping feeling of horror at himself he realised what he had done.

"I'm so sorry..."

"Where have you been?!" she asked shrilly. "You didn't write, mother and father think you might be dead-"

"I-"

"I've been paying for your apartments! I can't afford them! My husband thinks it is a waste of money, but I've been scrimping and saving and borrowing from David-"

"I'll pay you back. Here..." He fumbled through Lissy's bag which he had been carrying again and found two sterling notes which he thrust at her. "Take this. I'll pay the rest when I return. Will that tide you over for now?"

"Return? Return from where?" she implored, gripping his arm and fixing him intently in her gaze. "Where have you been?"

He met her gaze unhappily, and then her eyes followed his to rest on Lissy, who stood some distance away, paused exactly where she had realised Leander was no longer beside her, and who looked very pale and cold and serious.

"Who's she?"

"I'm going away again, but I should be back in about a week, I think. I'm sorry for putting you through this, for what an apology now is worth..."

"Will you come to see us when you get back?"

"Yes, as soon as possible."

"Will you explain where you've been?"

"I...well, maybe. I'll try," he said helplessly, and then added again, "I'm sorry." He leant forwards and kissed her on the cheek and her face worked as she battled off the tears before nodding. Unable to face her any longer, Leander turned and strode down the pavement past the gaudy window displays to where Lissy waited.

"Who was that?"

"Caroline," he replied distractedly. His thoughts were a maelstrom. Anger at Lissy burst forth, before being doused by the admission that, if he'd tried, he could have written a letter anyway. "I have treated her terribly. I gave her some of your money too. I'm sorry, I'll make amends to you as soon as I have visited my bank."

"Who is Caroline whom you have treated so terribly?" she asked indifferently, studying the display of ceramics in a bathroom shop as they passed the window.

"My sister," he replied morosely. Her head snapped around.

"Oh! You have a sister? I did not know that."

"I have two, actually. Did you not see how similar we looked?"

"I did not think you at all similar. You are much more...you are taller, slenderer, and your eyes are darker."

"Our builds are different, but I am told we have the same nose," he stated, and lapsed into brooding. Lissy, for her part, was just as quiet. They finished their shopping in silence and went home.

They were wary of staying in the same inn now – it was out of the question after the scene they had made before, and Leander was nervous that gossip would make it back to the Grand Mage's office. Right into the greasy little ears of Jerome, no doubt. That might have suited Jerome well but Lissy and Leander were keen to avoid it. They had made other arrangements.

"Mr and Mrs Daringly?" a man called from across the small market square.

"Ridiculous," muttered Leander. Lissy ignored him, and smiled brightly at the agent, who was making his way towards them in an oversized coat.

"Hallo there!"

"You are, er..." The agent checked a crumpled piece of paper disbelievingly and pushed his wire-rimmed glasses up his snub nose. He had the roundest, reddest face Leander had ever seen, topped by a patch of thinning hair. "...Daringly?"

"It's pronounced 'dah-ring-lee'," said Leander disapprovingly, putting emphasis on the ring. His character was a stuffy accountant, just married to his childhood sweetheart, and he was going to play him with conviction.

"Oh, forgive me." The agent looked distraught.

"No matter: it's a common mistake."

"I prefer to call him Darlingly," Lissy trilled with a flutter of eyelashes. Unable to control himself suddenly, Leander dived to search within the trunk. As he fought down the looming bubble of laughter, Lissy continued in a sing-song voice: "We are so excited to see the cottage."

"Are you ready to depart immediately?" the agent asked while nervously eyeing Leander, who straightened from frantic, aimless rifling through bits and pieces.

"Yes, I think so," he replied stuffily, and allowed the agent to lead them to a waiting cart.

Half an hour later the agent left them awkwardly holding hands in the garden and walked off to get a post coach back to Tisk. Their hands parted quickly and they both swivelled to survey the cottage.

"It's lovely," Lissy said, shielding her eyes from the sun to gaze up at the rose-clad walls of the house. It was tiny, and almost bursting at the beams with ramshackle charm.

"I hope it's structurally sound. And fit for habitation," he replied anxiously, hustling the trunk up to the door. He opened it and leaned in to discover, to his immense relief, that it was. Dumping the trunk on the kitchen table which sagged underneath, he inspected the contents of the kitchen, then leaned out of the window to observe how far they were from anyone else. Nathaniel would be unlikely to stumble across them, even if Lissy insisted on ridiculous pseudonyms. Lissy, by the range, was looking around dreamily.

"We're further away from the estate than last time," he said.

"That may be no bad thing if our expedition goes awry again," she pointed out, and with a muttered spell swept the trunk up from table.

"Couldn't you have done that before?" he said, exasperated.

"Sorry, Mr Dah-ring-lee, you were just too quick for me," she replied cheerfully, disappearing upstairs with the floating luggage.