Was there some quality about it beyond that echoing hum, that memory of life that was inherent in all wood hewn of Old Trees? Ivy could not say. All she knew was that it was different than the wood from which the box had been fashioned. The box had been made of twigs and small branches woven cleverly together, while the triangular piece of Wyrdwood was harder and more thickly grained. Had her father acquired it from the same person as the box? She supposed there was no way to know.

Or was there?

She recalled the last entry she had found in her father's journal, concerning his description of the Eye of Ran-Yahgren and the wooden frame it rested upon. The stand was made by a young man...whom I had the good fortune to meet at Heathcrest Hall The stand was made by a young man...whom I had the good fortune to meet at Heathcrest Hall, he had written. And, He also made the box of Wyrdwood in which you found this journal you are reading now He also made the box of Wyrdwood in which you found this journal you are reading now.

Reluctantly, for she found its smooth surface pleasing to touch, Ivy returned the piece of Wyrdwood to the box. Then she took paper and ink from the drawer. She cut a fresh quill and dipped it. For a moment she hesitated, wondering where to begin. She had not been in contact with him since leaving County Westmorain and returning to the city. Yet she could not think he would find a letter from her unwelcome. He had shown her nothing but kindness in her time in the West Country. Resolved, she tapped the tip of her pen against the ink pot, then set it to the paper.

Dear Mr. Samonds, she wrote.

AFTER THE LETTER was sealed with wax and given to a servant to be delivered, Ivy turned her attention to the seemingly endless task of placing her father's books in order on the shelves. She had been at this task just long enough to become engrossed when she heard footsteps behind her.

"Would you be so kind as to bring me a cup of tea?" she said without looking up, supposing it to be Mrs. Seenly.

"Whatever you wish, your ladyship," spoke a gruff voice.

Ivy let out a gasp and turned around, then smiled. "But you are back so soon! Once I saw you were gone, I did not expect to see you all day."

Mr. Quent affected a solemn look. "I came back to make certain you were not deprived of your morning tea."

"Do not mock me!" she said with a laugh. "For I have not had anything today but cold tea, and I do not think I will ever be able to sort out these books without the benefit of another cup or two." She set down her burden on the desk and crossed the room to kiss her husband. "Yet I imagine you have had nothing yourself today. That would be very like you to rush off to see to the needs of the Crown without seeing to any of your own."

"This is all the sustenance I need," he said, and kissed her again.

For a minute he held her in his arms, and Ivy was surprised, for there seemed an unusual fierceness to his action. Not that she could say she was discontent to let him encompa.s.s her so, or to lean her head against his chest and listen to the solid beating of his heart.

At last it was not only the sound of his beating heart she heard, but also the noise of his stomach. She commented upon this, and he reluctantly agreed that he might in fact need something other than kisses to sustain him. A maid was called and given instructions to ask Mrs. Seenly to bring a tray, and soon the two of them sat at a table in the library, taking a little breakfast together.

While they might have saved Mrs. Seenly trouble by going to the dining room, Ivy confessed it was pleasant to have Mr. Quent to herself-and to not have to listen to more of Lily's chatter about her and Rose's progress on the tableau. All the same, Mr. Quent had some curiosity on that particular subject, and she a.s.sured him that the tableau was bound to be impressively elaborate and theatrical.

"I do hope Lily will not be worn out by the time the day of their party arrives," Ivy said, pouring him more tea from the pot. "I want her to be able to enjoy the affair." their party arrives," Ivy said, pouring him more tea from the pot. "I want her to be able to enjoy the affair."

"On that account I can have little worry," he said, and put three lumps of sugar in his cup. As Ivy had learned in their time together, he possessed something of a sweet tooth. "That said, I will be sure to admonish her to conserve herself if I observe her to look in any way tired or spent upon my return."

Ivy set down her own cup with a clatter. "What do you mean, upon your return?"

He said nothing, but his expression was enough to answer her and confirm her fears. "You are going away again! That's why you came back so early from the Citadel-to get ready to leave."

"I confess, that is the case."

A sudden panic came upon her. She knew it was ill of her to protest-what could it accomplish save to make his task more difficult?-yet she could not prevent herself. "You said you had accomplished what you needed to on your last venture to Torland. Surely there is no reason for you to return there. And it is so far-you will never return in time for Lily and Rose's party!"

He reached across the table and took her hand. She tried to s.n.a.t.c.h it back, but he tightened his grip on it, holding it with a force that, though gentle, was beyond her power to break.

"I am not not going back to Torland," he said, his voice low, and his brown eyes intent upon her. "There is nothing more that I can do there. I am only going so far as Mansford in the south. I must meet with another of the inquirers there. He has some papers belonging to the lord inquirer that were in his keeping, and I must retrieve them." going back to Torland," he said, his voice low, and his brown eyes intent upon her. "There is nothing more that I can do there. I am only going so far as Mansford in the south. I must meet with another of the inquirers there. He has some papers belonging to the lord inquirer that were in his keeping, and I must retrieve them."

Ivy's dread receded somewhat. Mansford was not so terribly distant. If he took a swift stage, and did not linger long, he would be no more than a quarter month. All the same, that would have him returning very near to Lily and Rose's party.

"Cannot this other inquirer bring the papers to the city?" she said.

"He is not at liberty to do so. His business lies in the other direction. Nor are these things that could safely be sent by post."

Ivy sighed, and the last of her fear was replaced by resignation. "It is just...you have already been at the Citadel so much of late."

"I know." He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. "There has been much to do since our loss of Lord Rafferdy."

"Then the situation can only be improved when there is a new lord inquirer appointed. Therefore I will hope that day comes soon."

"You may not want to express such a hope!"

"Why should I not?"

He withdrew his hand from hers. "Because I fear that it is I who will be nominated for the post. Indeed, the papers I go to retrieve may confirm that very thing. All that has been wanting is to know what Lord Rafferdy's mind on the subject was, and I have reason to believe that among these letters is one that expresses his intent that I succeed him. Thus you can now be a.s.sured that it is only with the greatest reluctance that I leave you to go on this journey."

Ivy's astonishment was so great that for a long moment she could not speak. "But you must go!" she exclaimed at last. "This is marvelous."

He leaned back in his chair. "Is it marvelous? That is hardly the word I would have chosen."

"Yet it is the word I choose," Ivy said.

She gazed at him. In that moment, all her dreads and anxieties and selfish cares, while they did not depart, became so light that she could easily pick them up and set them aside. She stood and went around to him, resting her hands upon his thick, sloped shoulders.

"Do not think that I am not sensible to what this portends. It means I will be able to claim an even smaller part of you than I already do. Yet you must ignore all of my silly complaints. How can I be jealous of Altania? For in serving her her, you serve all of us, including myself. Besides, I would rather possess a fraction of a great and good man, rather than the whole of one whom I did not so greatly admire, and so greatly love."

He said nothing. Instead, he caught her hand in his-the maimed one this time-and pressed it to his bearded cheek. They stayed that way for a while. Then, at last, he let go. maimed one this time-and pressed it to his bearded cheek. They stayed that way for a while. Then, at last, he let go.

"Well, perhaps it will not come to pa.s.s," he said, though he did not sound very hopeful.

"If not, then no one shall be more glad than I. And if it does come to be, then no one shall be more proud than I." She shook her head. "Yet I confess, this is a wonder. It does not surprise me, given your abilities and your dedication, that you would be considered for such a post. Still, I did not think a baronet could attain such a position."

"He cannot," Mr. Quent said grimly.

Ivy stared at him stupidly.

"Oh!" she said as understanding at last came upon her. Then she went back around the table and sat in her chair.

Now dread and wonder were replaced with a kind of cold numbness. She could hardly comprehend what he meant-not because his meaning was not clear, but rather because it did not seem possible. Was it not enough he had been made a baronet? Would he now be raised to a magnate as well? Such a thing was scarcely heard of in modern times.

Now it was he who rose and came around the table to her.

"Let us not think about things that have not come to pa.s.s," he said, touching her hair, "for they may never do so. Besides, I have a little time before I must depart, and I can think of more pleasant ways to pa.s.s it."

He brushed aside her hair, exposing the nape of her neck, then bent to press his lips against it. Ivy sighed, and while she knew they would no doubt return, in that moment the chill of worry vanished from her, replaced by the most pleasant warmth. Shutting her eyes, she reached up, touching the side of his face, and leaned against him.

"As you wish, my lord," she murmured.

THE CARRIAGE CAME to a halt before a grand house in the New Quarter. She was here already.

Ivy sighed and leaned back against the bench. Since bidding farewell to Mr. Quent earlier that day, her spirits had been very low, and she was not in the proper frame of mind to attend a party. However, he had admonished her that she must in no way give up her plans to attend the affair.

If he was in fact to be the next lord inquirer-a position that would raise him even further-then it was all the more important that they appear fitting and worthy of such a grand benefit. In this regard, her behavior was as vital as his; or, he had told her, even more so. She was seen by society much more often than he was, and their observations upon her could only be used to infer judgments about him him.

With such thoughts in her mind, Ivy could hardly look forward to the tea at Lady Crayford's-a thing that previously had sounded so amusing-with much antic.i.p.ation. She reminded herself that Mrs. Baydon would be present, and seeing her friend was something she could always look forward to. Thus, when Lawden opened the carriage door, Ivy found the will to take his hand and descend to the street.

The viscount's house looked no less magnificent in daylight than by moonlight. Its marble columns gleamed like the stones of some cla.s.sical Tharosian ruin. Ivy took the steps slowly; there were a great number of them, and she did not wish to look flushed upon her arrival. Besides, she was in no great hurry to be in the company of others who would expect her to speak and be charming.

Only then she was there, and the door opened before she could lay a hand upon the knocker. She was whisked within and led down a long gallery and through a pair of gla.s.s doors. Beyond was an airy colonnade, and once past that she came into the garden behind the house.

Except it was more like a park: a great lawn bordered by tall plane trees. The tinkling of water filled the air, for all around there were fountains and little springs that tumbled over rocks. The garden had been made to look like the most natural place, yet it was clear it was all carefully tended and arranged to appear so.

"There you are at last, Lady Quent!" called Lady Crayford, hurrying across the lawn in her direction.

This greeting left Ivy perplexed. She was certain she was in no way late; and even if she was, she could not imagine the party had been waiting upon her her arrival. However, any momentary vexation she suffered vanished as the viscountess took her arm and led her across the garden, talking brightly all the way. arrival. However, any momentary vexation she suffered vanished as the viscountess took her arm and led her across the garden, talking brightly all the way.

Upon reaching the others, Ivy discovered that she was in fact the last to arrive. Mrs. Baydon was already there, happily engaged in conversation with Captain Branfort, while Lord Eubrey was gesturing in an exaggerated manner, apparently attempting to win some sort of response from Colonel Daubrent. The viscountess's brother had folded his arms over his broad chest and seemed unwilling to surrender his phlegmatic demeanor.

There were a number of others there as well-some Ivy recognized from other affairs at Lady Crayford's, and some were new to her. While there were many there she did not recognize, she was astonished to find that everyone present seemed to recognize her her. What was more, they all wished to approach her at once, and she was immediately subjected to a lengthy series of greetings and introductions with various lords and ladies, sirs, misters, misses, and madams, and even a stray earl.

At last Ivy was rescued by the sound of muskets.

All conversation was suspended as Colonel Daubrent led Captain Branfort and several other men in a display of their firearms. While no shot was loaded in the muskets, they made the most alarming and delightful noise all the same. Soon the servants released the hounds, which prowled about the bushes hunting for the pheasants that had been hidden there. With the smoke of gunpowder drifting on the air, and the men looking so handsome and imposing in their hunting coats, rifles in hand, Ivy could indeed believe she was part of a birding party out in the country.

"Isn't it all marvelous!" someone said, taking her arm, and Ivy was delighted to discover it was Mrs. Baydon.

"It is a very convincing facsimile."

Mrs. Baydon sighed. "Mr. Baydon hates hunting with the greatest vehemence, but I have always wanted to be able to go out with a hunting party. Though I confess, the sound of the guns is very startling. I believe I need a gla.s.s of wine to settle my nerves." greatest vehemence, but I have always wanted to be able to go out with a hunting party. Though I confess, the sound of the guns is very startling. I believe I need a gla.s.s of wine to settle my nerves."

As another musket volley sounded, they proceeded to one of the tables set up on the lawn. There they sat and were brought wine and a luncheon of savory and sweet things that Ivy was certain were far more elaborate than anything men might consume on a hunting trip, which she guessed would consist of tobacco, whiskey, and little else.

Soon they were joined at their table by Captain Branfort and Colonel Daubrent, who had set down their guns, and Lord Eubrey followed after. Ivy expected Lady Crayford to sit with some other of her guests, but it was the viscountess who took the last seat at their table. Gla.s.ses were raised, and the talk that ensued was like the wine they drank; that is, it flowed freely and was deliciously heady, even if it provided scant substance. Ivy listened to tales of this party or that affair, who was at each, and more important, who was not. All the while, Mrs. Baydon watched with blue eyes aglow.

"But where is the viscount today?" Captain Branfort said after a time. "I had intended to show him my new rifle. He had expressed an interest in seeing it when last I spoke with him."

"I have no idea where he is," Lady Crayford said. "Engrossed in some dull affair of business, I have no doubt. I told him how marvelous our party was to be, but he said such an affair could not interest him-that it would have to offer something truly novel to entice him."

Ivy was disappointed by this news, as she had hoped to meet the viscount as well. She expressed this sentiment, and Lady Crayford's violet eyes flashed as she set down the apricot she had been nibbling.

"If you wished to meet the viscount, I imagine it is within your power, Lady Quent. For of course he has heard all about you from me, and he told me the other day that he was quite interested to attend your next affair."

"My affair?" Ivy said, and took another sip of cool wine.

"Yes, of course-the party for the occasion of presenting your sisters."

Ivy set down her gla.s.s; had she imbibed so much that she could not hear clearly? "The party for my sisters?"

"Yes, Mrs. Baydon told me all about it. I confess, I am astonished you did not inform me of it yourself."

Ivy suffered a sudden pang of alarm. "I a.s.sure you, it was not my intention to keep such news from you! It is simply that it never-" She took a breath, thinking how best to phrase it. "You see, it will be only a modest affair. That is, it will be nothing remarkable compared to a party such as this."

"Well, I don't believe that at all," Colonel Daubrent said, a frown on his handsome face. "One hardly needs all this mummery my sister favors to host an agreeable affair. I have been to parties in canvas tents in the Outlands where all we had were tin cups and a cask of ale, and I found them to be perfectly entertaining."

Ivy knew the colonel was being serious, yet she could not help smiling at his description, and some of her dread receded. Lady Crayford seemed amused as well, rather than perturbed, by her brother's words.

"I have no doubt that is just the sort of party you military men favor," she said.

"The colonel does not speak for us all!" Captain Branfort declared. "I for one would greatly prefer an affair at Lady Quent's to just about any sort of gathering. I had the occasion to ride by your house on Durrow Street the other day and caught a glimpse through the gate. It is the most handsome sort of old edifice. Indeed, so pleasing are its proportions and the air of solidness about it that I wonder why people ever abandoned the Old City in favor of the New Quarter."

Lord Eubrey was idly folding a piece of paper into the shape of a swan. "No doubt people will begin to return to the Old City once word circulates of the affair at Lady Quent's excellent house," he said. "I wager that within a quarter month it will be seen as the most daring and marvelous thing to leave the New Quarter and take up residence on Durrow Street."

"I am certain that will not be so!" Ivy said, astonished.

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you? Well, if you think that to be the case, there is only one way to test your hypothesis. You must invite us all to your sisters' party."

Now Ivy was beyond astonished; she could find no capacity for speech.

"Unless, of course, you do not think the Miss Lockwells would wish to have so many guests who are unknown to them at their affair," Captain Branfort said seriously.

"No!" Ivy at last managed to cry, and so gallant and absurd were the captain's words that she could not help laughing. For who would Lily more wish to have at her party than the very sort of people sitting at this table? It would be, for Lily, like a chapter from one of her romances. "No, they would both be delighted if you all came, I have no doubt. But you must do so only if it is something you truly wish to do, not out of any sense of regard or duty. I warn you again, it will be a very modest affair."

They would judge that for themselves, her companions at the table declared. For they would all surely attend, and Lady Crayford was confident her husband would be enticed to go as well. For what could be more novel than to attend a grand party at a grand house that had not seen such an affair in centuries?

So overwhelmed was Ivy that she could only nod and take another sip of her wine. Beneath the table, Mrs. Baydon squeezed her hand.

The afternoon wore on. They left the tables and sat on blankets on the gra.s.s, eating strawberries and gazing at the trees that swayed gently overhead while Lady Crayford made little drawings of all their profiles in her sketchbook. A great contentment came over Ivy; she could have wanted for nothing else, save to share this all with Mr. Quent.

On the blanket beside her, Mrs. Baydon let out a sigh. The afternoon light shone gold upon her hair. "It is so lovely here," she said. "Yet it fills me with a longing to go on a real trip to the country. Somewhere far away from the city-somewhere wild."

"Somewhere wild?" Lord Eubrey said, his chin held high as he posed for the viscountess. "Somewhere like Madiger's Wall, perhaps?" posed for the viscountess. "Somewhere like Madiger's Wall, perhaps?"

Mrs. Baydon gasped and clapped her hands. "Oh, but I have always wanted to go to the wall and see the Evengrove!"

"You have never been?"

She shook her head. "My husband has always refused to take me."

"Perhaps it's because of that slow gig of his," Lord Eubrey said with a laugh. "It would take a long lumenal indeed to get all the way to the Evengrove if you were to take a gig. But a good number can fit in the viscount's four-in-hand, which is wickedly fast. Why, the colonel's curricle would be hard-pressed to keep up with it. And I can meet you all there."

"Why would you not just come with us?" Colonel Daubrent said.

"I have a plan already to travel there tomorrow with some a.s.sociates of mine. If you were all there as well, it would make for a merry outing."

The others concurred that it would no doubt make for a great adventure, and the details of a plan were quickly formulated.

"But do you think it is very wise?" Ivy said.