* * *
The bloody bracelet was still on his wrist, James thought, as he paced up and down the carpet in his bedroom. He had been meaning to remove it for days. In fact, he was fairly sure he had tried to remove it, but the fastening had been stuck.
He was halfway to his desk in search of a letter opener he could use to poke at the latch when he caught sight of himself in the mirror. He stopped to make sure everything was in place; for Cordelia’s sake, he had to look his best.
He smoothed down his hair—hopeless, as it sprang up again immediately—and did up the last button on the gold brocade frock coat made for him by his father’s tailor, an ancient man named Lemuel Sykes.
He thought of his father’s excitement when he’d presented James to Lemuel: “My boy’s getting married!” Sykes had angrily muttered his congratulations. Given his amount of ear hair, James put it at even odds that he was a werewolf, but he thought it impolite to ask. In any event, Will turned out to have been right to overlook Sykes’s off-putting manner and the constant fear that he would drop dead of old age right in front of them. James felt he wasn’t the best judge of his own appearance, but even he was taken by the way his suit, rich gold coat and all, made him look serious. Like a young man with intent, who knew what he was doing. Given the situation, he could use even the illusion of confidence.
He had just started toward the desk again when there was a knock on his door. James opened it to find his parents, elegant in their own formal attire. Like James, Will was dressed in a frock coat and black trousers, but his coat was cut from ebony wool. Tessa wore a simple dress of blush-colored velvet, adorned with tiny seed pearls. They both looked grave.
James’s stomach dropped. “Is something wrong?”
They’ve found out, he thought. About my burning down Blackthorn Manor—Cordelia stepping in to protect me—the sham of this marriage, meant to save us both.
“Don’t be alarmed,” Will said soothingly. “There’s a bit of news.”
Tessa sighed. “Will, you’re terrifying the poor boy,” she said. “He probably thinks Cordelia’s broken off the engagement. She hasn’t,” she added. “Nothing like that. Only—her father’s come back.”
“Elias is home?” James stepped out of the way, letting his parents into the room; the halls were full of maids and footmen rushing about getting the place ready, and this seemed the sort of discussion better had in private. “When did he return?”
“Just this morning, apparently,” said Will. There were three chairs arranged near the window. James joined his parents there. Outside the glass, ice-laced tree branches shimmered in the winter wind. Pale sunlight streamed onto the carpet. “As you know, the Basilias let him out some time ago, but apparently he claims he went to get Cordelia a wedding present. Thus his delayed arrival.”
“Doesn’t sound like you believe him,” said James. “Where do you think he’s been?”
Will and Tessa exchanged a look. The fate of Elias Carstairs had become a lively part of Clave gossip only a week or two after he had been sent to the Basilias to be “healed.” Most knew, or suspected, that he had found his illness at the bottom of a bottle. Cordelia had been painfully honest about it with James: that she had not known, growing up, that her father had a problem with alcohol, and that she both hoped the Basilias would cure him and feared that they could not.
When Tessa spoke, her words were careful. “He is Cordelia’s father,” she said. “We must trust he means what he says. Sona seems delighted to have him back, and Cordelia will no doubt be relieved that he’s at her wedding.”
“So they’re here?” said James, with a pang of concern. “Cordelia and her family? Does she seem all right?”
“She was smuggled up the back stairs to prevent anyone glimpsing her,” said Will. “She seemed—well, quite puffy and golden, from what I could see.”
“You make her sound like a Yorkshire pudding,” said James darkly. “Should I go to her? See if she needs me?”
“I don’t think so,” said Tessa. “Cordelia is a clever, brave, resourceful girl, but this is her father. I imagine the matter is quite sensitive, especially with so many of the Clave knowing about it. The best you can do is stand by her side, and by Elias’s side. Make it clear we are delighted he is here, and that it is an occasion for happiness.”
“This is part of being a husband,” said Will. “You and Cordelia are one now. Your goals, your dreams, will all be shared, as well as your responsibilities. My understanding is that Elias hid his condition for many years; if he had not, things might be quite different. Might I give you a bit of marital advice?”