The Mislaid Magician by Patricia C. Wrede, Caroline Stevermer Page A

dignified and closemouthed, but I believe that is mere show; the man cannot know where Daniel went, nor why, since Daniel left immediately after our conference in the gun room.
    Naturally, everyone wanted to know what “personal matters” Daniel and I had been discussing. Fortunately, I had had plenty of time to consider my response by the time they thought to ask. I told them, with a great show of reluctance, and in utmost confidence, that I had just learned that my cousin Georgy had run away from him and was nowhere to be found, and I wished to know why. Whoever read your earlier letter must know that this is sheer fabrication on my part, but they all looked suitably shocked by the revelation. (I place no dependence on their discretion; if the story is not all over London by the end of the week, it will only be because none of them has any social acquaintance there to correspond with. It is most unfortunate, but there really was no other news that would have served.)
    Upon reflection, I am not entirely sorry to have lost my temper with Daniel. Now that I have had time to consider all that he said, and your report of the gypsy woman’s remarks, it seems to me very likely that it is not actually Daniel who is threatening Georgy. He appeared genuinely concerned about her, Kate. The gypsy’s remark about the “dibs being in tune,” taken together with Daniel’s comment about someone named Lucky “calling them off” make me suspect that the real culprit is one of Daniel’s gambling associates. I shall be very interested to discover why. Despite what the gypsy said, it cannot be gaming debts. Daniel may be nearly as chuckleheaded as Georgy, but he has always been punctilious about paying his debts of honor.
    James was quieter than usual through the afternoon. When we retired for the evening and were quite private at last, I discovered why. First, he asked me to read your letter aloud (for of course it still looks to his eyes like a list of cough medicine receipts). When I finished, there was a long, thoughtful pause. Then he said, in the most expressionless voice possible, “Do you wish to return home to see for yourself that the children are safe?”
    I fear I am a most unnatural mother, for until that moment, the possibility had not occurred to me. I considered the matter carefully for some while, for James only uses that tone of voice when he earnestly desires not to influence my response. Finally, I said, “No, I do not think it is necessary. I don’t believe the children are in any danger. The gypsy woman only threatened Georgy; carrying off Edward was probably quite accidental. And if Kate had wanted me, she would have asked.” I paused, working things out in my mind. “And if we were to race home now, it might give whoever is threatening Georgy the notion of threatening the children instead.”
    I am afraid my voice wobbled at the end, for James rose hastily and came over to me. “Now, Cecy, it’s quite all right. Kate said everyone was safe.”
    “Yes,” I said into his shoulder. “And I am sure she will keep them so. But do you think I ought to go back?”
    Silence. I looked up, to find James’s expression a study in conflict. He sighed. “I don’t know. I think you are right about the children, but I am not sure it is safe for you to be here. If someone is threatening Georgy in order to squeeze money out of Daniel, they might well try the same with you.
    I stared at him for a moment before I found my voice. “You think I am no more capable of dealing with such persons than Georgy? ”
    “No, not at all,” James said hastily. “I mean, that is not what I meant.”
    “If it is safe enough for you to be here, it is safe enough for me,” I said. “And if it isn’t safe, I am certainly not leaving until you do. Especially since there is magic involved. Thomas is a very good wizard even when he is distracted by magnetism and good burgundy, and under the circumstances, he won’t let himself be