Page 49 of Confounding Oaths
Still, keen observer of humanity as I am, I could make out much despite my position. She was watching herself now with a melancholy that denied itself. Her reflection in the mirror was glass on glass on glass, fragments and echoes and motes of pale light.
Had she still breathed, I feel sure she would have sighed. Perhaps even let out anah meas is, I believe, traditional. Instead she looked down and said, “Ferdy, I have chosen right, have I not? Whatever Mama and Papa may say?”
But I was already gone. From her sight, at least.
After all, this lady is not the only person our story is about.
I have, I think, already told you that my kind rarely watch mortals sleep (at least not fromoutsidetheir dreams), since unconscious you are dull unless we are doing the supernatural equivalent of drawing a phallus on your foreheads with a magic marker. (This, you might recall, was essentially the plot of my best publicised escapade, albeit one for which I received no credit.)
But I went to check on Mr. Caesar anyway, because it seemed likely to me that he would be stirring soon.
And my timing, as ever, was flawless. You may think it vulgar, reader, that I keep reminding you of my own perfection, but your sensibilities mean little to me and I am extremely skilled at what I do.
Indeed so flawless was my timing that I arrived outside Mr. Caesar’s bedchamber exactly in time to witness the approach of Captain James, and passed through it in my shape of mists and shadows just in time to witness Mr. Caesar, who somehow made even his nightshirt look immaculate, stirring with the ill grace of an earl’s grandson asked to rise earlier than he is accustomed.
“What is it, Nancy?” he asked.
“Not Nancy,” came the reply.
“Here to apologise for telling a man to shoot me?” asked Mr. Caesar, more acidly than he really felt. If there was one man he would trust to make such a life-and-death call, it was Orestes James.
“There was no way he’d reloaded that pistol,” replied the captain. “Well, not much of a way. Anyway I thought you’d want to know your sister’s back.”
Abstractly, Mr. Caesar wanted to know this very much. In the moment, he wanted primarily to sleep for at least another two hours. “Is she well?”
“She’s made of glass, John, how well can she be?” The use ofMr. Caesar’s Christian name was a little informal given their relative stations. Then again, they’d fucked.
“Allowing for that.”
“Whole, and seems to have her own will.”
Thanking whatever gods he was comfortable thanking for small mercies, Mr. Caesar rose and inched the door open. “You should probably come in. It’s not done to have conversations through doors.”
As he entered Mr. Caesar’s bedchamber, Captain James was shaking his head. “You’re a strange man.”
“I really don’t think I am.”
Without waiting to be asked, Captain James sat down on the edge of Mr. Caesar’s bed. “You punch a man in the jaw at a ball, you suck cock like a trooper—and I’ve met a lot of troopers—but then you turn around and say ‘It’s not done’ about a chat through a bit of wood.”
“That’s different.”
Captain James made no reply, but the expression on his face saidWhy?
“I’m at home now.”
“And you’re not yourself at home?”
As much as Mr. Caesar wished it could be, it wasn’t that simple. “I’m one of my selves at home.”
“How many’ve you got?” asked the captain, skirting the edge of playfulness.
“Two. Three? A hundred? I’m a gentleman and a molly and an Englishman though half the ton won’t believe it and an African though I’ve never set foot on the Continent. I’m an earl’s grandson, which means nothing except when it means everything, and a freedman’s son, which means everything except when it means nothing. I’m my sisters’ protector except I can’t protect them andthe last hope of my family name except I shan’t marry. I’m a dandy who doesn’t wear cotton and can ill afford to follow fashion, and a lawyer-in-training whose social set looks down on the law.”
Deciding playfulness was not the right direction, Captain James just said, “Must be hard.”
“It’s the same for you, surely.”
Captain James shrugged. “I’m a soldier.”
