flinch as an automobile roars by, sending pedestrians hurtling out of its path. Part of me begs to rush back inside, back to the warmth of the fireplace, to the quiet of the parlor, but I shove that part of me into the recesses of my mind and focus on the task at hand.
Just breathe. Just smile. Just pretend.
With a deep breath, I descend the front steps to the sidewalk below, my low-heeled boots crunching into the dusting of fresh snow. The snow here is always fresh, never accumulating higher than a quarter inch on the streets, no matter how much has fallen the day before. It must be magic that keeps it that way.
“Miss Bellefleur!” a voice calls from across the street.
Mrs. Aston gives an enthusiastic wave, and I curse my reactions for being so automatic. If I hadn’t made eye contact, I could pretend I didn’t see her. But it’s too late. She’s already crossing the street toward me. I manage to suppress a groan, although I’m sure I can’t keep my full displeasure from my eyes. To counteract it, I force a smile.
“Miss Bellefleur,” she says when she reaches me, “is your father home? I was hoping to have you and your sister over for dinner tonight.”
Bodies weave around us on the sidewalk, making my breath hitch. I hate standing still in a crowd. Hate it. I can almost hear whispers, jests, snide comments laced beneath the roar of footsteps, pitched within the blare of an automobile horn—
I blink a few times, breathing the memories away. This is here. This is now. I refocus on my outer composure and recall Mrs. Aston’s question. “No, my father is not home,” I say and leave it at that.
“Oh, but I must have you over. You simply have to meet Gavin. He’s finally arrived in town.” Her eyes are alight with excitement, her smile oozing saccharine sweetness.
“Gavin,” I echo flatly.
Her grin falters. “My eldest son. You recall I told you about him when I was last over for tea?”
“Ah.” I nod. Now I know what this is about. It’s the social season’s most heinous of activities. Matchmaking. Time for a swift exit. “My father and sister are in the market square. I’m sure you can speak to him when he returns.”
I take a step to the side, but she mirrors me.
“Oh, but did you hear about Miss Weathersbee?” She lowers her voice just enough to feign discretion, although hardly quiet enough to truly avoid being overheard. “I was most surprised when I heard. She’d taken a walk—unchaperoned—with Mr. Evans. And—”
“Mrs. Aston,” I say, allowing some sharpness to infuse my tone, “I doubt this is any of my business to know, considering I am acquainted with neither Miss Weathersbee nor Mr. Evans.”
Heat flushes her already heavily rouged cheeks. She purses her lips, then returns them to her false grin. “Miss Bellefleur, I was simply leading up to tell you that they spotted a wolf. Two of them! Right on Whitespruce Lane at the edge of the woods. I merely wanted to warn you.”
I grit my teeth. That’s how some of the vilest rumors start, the kind that are cloaked in a way that makes the news seem prudent to share. I’ve heard it all before. I’d be a terrible friend if I didn’t confess, or I only say this because… There’s always a reason. Always a way to rationalize why one must invade another’s most private moments.
I curl my fingers into tight fists, feeling the stretch of my kid gloves. It takes all my restraint to maintain my composure. At least my irritation has overridden my fear. I can hardly see the bustling bodies that continue to shove past us. When I speak, my words come out calm. Collected. Just like my outer persona. “We do live in the Winter Court, Mrs. Aston. Spotting wolves at the edge of the forest is hardly news worth spreading, regardless of the gossip you’ve so neatly tied to it.”
I expect another blush, but she’s nonplussed. In fact, she seems encouraged, her smile brightening. “They could have been fae wolves.”
“Here?” I say with mock concern. “At the heart of a fae court? Why, never in all my days would I have thought such a thing possible.”
This time, she seems to catch the hint. She folds her hands before her with a huff. “We don’t see many fae here, Miss Bellefleur. This is a human town, after all.”