A Matter of Magic (7 page)

Mairelon had just entered the wagon. He carried a large parcel under one arm and there was a worried crease across his forehead; aside from that, he looked like one of the grand swells Kim had occasionally seen going into the Drury Lane theater. He glanced from Hunch’s dour face to hers. Kim grinned and stretched.

The worried crease vanished and the corners of Mairelon’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “Wise of you to have gotten some sleep, Kim.”

“I thought so,” Kim said smugly.

Hunch snorted and rose stiffly to his feet. He had been sitting beside the door, Kim saw, presumably to block any attempt she might make to leave. “You’re late,” he said to Mairelon.

“Not as late as I might have been.” The remaining traces of amusement disappeared from Mairelon’s expression. “Are you ready to leave?”

“Now?” Kim said, startled. She glanced involuntarily at the tiny window in the top of the wagon’s door. There was no sign of an approaching dawn.

“Now.”

Hunch looked at Mairelon suspiciously. “There’s three hours yet afore morning,” he pointed out.

“Yes. And we should be at least two hours gone by then,” Mairelon replied.

Hunch and Kim were both staring at him. “What ’ave you gone and done now?” Hunch demanded at last.

Mairelon’s lips set in a grim line. Carefully, he put his parcel down on top of the cupboards. After a moment, he looked up. “I haven’t ‘gone
and done’ anything,” he said. “Unfortunately, Andrew isn’t likely to believe that.”

“You never went off to Grosvenor Square!” Hunch gasped.

“Give me credit for some sense,” Mairelon replied. “No, I met my esteemed brother outside Renée D’Auber’s.”

Kim’s eyes widened. Everyone in London, from the Prince of Wales to the poorest mud-lark, knew of Mademoiselle Renée D’Auber. She was the only child of a French wizard who had fled his country during the Terror and an English Countess who had been generally considered to have married beneath her. Mademoiselle D’Auber had kept a foot in both worlds. She was welcomed by all but the most stiff-necked members of the
haut ton.
She kept a select salon attended by magicians, bluestockings, and intelligentsia, and she was rumored to be a dab hand at spell casting herself. There were also whispers that she was personally familiar with some of the less savory elements of London society. The upper classes considered her wild and not altogether respectable; the lower shook their heads in fascinated wonder at the strange ways of foreigners and gentry, and pronounced her too clever by half.

“You ’adn’t ought to ’ave gone there,” Hunch told Mairelon almost fiercely.

“Where else was I supposed to get willow root, black alder, vervain, and rue at this hour?” Mairelon retorted irritably.

“You ain’t a-going to ’ave a chance to use them ’erbs much if word gets out you’re in London.”

“Renée wouldn’t give me away. And how was I supposed to know Andrew would be there? He never used to like Renée. He shouldn’t even be in town yet; the Season doesn’t start for at least a month!” Mairelon ran a hand through his hair in a distracted manner.

Hunch opened his mouth, then closed it again. Kim thought he looked more worried and upset than angry, and she filed that away in her mind for later consideration. At last Hunch said, “I’ll be getting the ’orses, then.”

Kim glanced at Mairelon’s face, then looked away. “I’ll help,” she said quickly as Hunch rose.

To her surprise, Hunch did not object. He simply looked at her and
nodded. Kim blinked and followed him out of the wagon. They started toward the end of the market where horses could be stabled for a fee. As soon as they were well out of earshot of the wagon, Kim looked up and demanded, “What was that about?”

“It ain’t your affair,” Hunch growled repressively.

Kim was ready to argue, but Hunch’s forbidding expression made it clear that she would get no further information from him. She resolved to question Mairelon himself as soon as she could find a good opportunity. She looked up. Hunch was chewing on his mustache again. Kim snorted quietly and turned her attention to considering what little she had learned.

Mairelon the Magician knew more than stage magic, that was plain enough. And she’d bet every farthing she was carrying that he was the “Merrill” that the skinny toff at the Dog and Bull was so anxious to find. Odds-on, Mairelon was gentry, too, or at least very well breeched. Ordinary market performers didn’t have brothers who owned houses in Grosvenor Square.

Then there was the matter of the men who had tried to follow Hunch. He and Mairelon seemed to consider it more of a nuisance than a threat, which implied that they were used to dealing with such things. And Mairelon knew Renée D’Auber well enough to expect a welcome at her home.

The whole thing had a havey-cavey look about it. Frowning, Kim considered piking off with her five pounds and leaving Hunch to explain her absence to Mairelon. The trouble was, she didn’t want to go. She liked Mairelon. Furthermore, she trusted him. Whatever it was that he was involved in, she was certain he hadn’t lied when he’d told her it wasn’t illegal.

It might be dangerous, though. Kim’s frown deepened. She didn’t know anything about magic, but she’d been involved in smoky dealings before. Mairelon might be able to use her help. She blinked, surprised by the strength of her desire to go along with the magician, then pressed her lips together, determined to be objective. She shouldn’t be staying with a couple of culls on a queer lay without a good reason. She’d had more than her share of close calls already. Her luck wouldn’t last forever.

For a moment, she wavered, then she remembered Dan Laverham.
With a feeling of relief, Kim stopped trying to convince herself that she ought to abandon Mairelon. She had to get away from Dan Laverham, and that meant getting out of London. That was a good enough reason for anything! Besides, if she sherried off now, she’d never find out what was really going on. Kim grinned to herself and hurried to catch up with Hunch.

They were on their way out of London within the hour. Hunch drove from a tiny ledge on the front of the wagon, while Kim rode inside with Mairelon. She would rather have been outside with Hunch, despite his suspicions, for she disliked the closed-in feeling of the darkened wagon. Mairelon’s assurance that it was only until they were out of London, and her own thoughts of Dan Laverham, were all that stifled her objections. Kim was not anxious to be seen by anyone who might take word back to that slimy character, small though the chance might be.

The jolting of the wagon made her queasy at first, but the feeling passed quickly. Mairelon watched her closely. “All right now?” he said after a time.

“Right enough.” Kim peered at him. “You couldn’t do somethin’ to make a bit of light in here, could you?”

Mairelon laughed. “I’m afraid you’ll have to get used to the dark. No wagoneer would keep a lamp lit while the wagon’s moving, not even on the best road in England.” The wagon jounced across a rut and Mairelon grimaced. “Which this manifestly is not.”

Kim hadn’t been thinking of a lamp, but she let it pass. Mairelon’s point was clear enough: a lighted wagon would attract attention. She stared at the window with some disquiet. She had no idea where they were going, she realized, or even which direction. Well, they hadn’t crossed the river, so they weren’t headed south, but that still left a lot of
possibilities. Suddenly she grinned. If she didn’t know where she was going, Laverham certainly wouldn’t!

“Not going to sleep, I take it?” Mairelon said.

The wagon hit a bump that nearly threw Kim off the chest. “Ain’t nobody could sleep through that,” she said scornfully when she was secure once more.

“Sorry,” Mairelon said. “This wagon wasn’t built to be ridden in.”

“I never would of guessed,” Kim said sarcastically.

Mairelon laughed again. “I suppose that it
is
a bit obvious. If you aren’t going to sleep, why don’t we start on your lessons?”

“Lessons? You mean, reading and magic?”

“Eventually, yes. But you can’t read if you can’t see, and the same thing applies to the kind of magic I’ll be teaching you. We’ll start on those later, after it gets light.”

Kim frowned. “How much you plannin’ on teachin’ me?”

“If you’re going to be of any real help with the show, there are a number of things you’ll need to know besides stage magic,” Mairelon said dryly.

“What things?”

“The way you talk, for one.” Mairelon looked at her and hurried on before she could reply. “You see, people expect a performer to sound like a Duchess. You don’t, of course, but I think that with a little training you could.”

“Hunch don’t talk like a gentry cove,” Kim pointed out, nettled.

“He doesn’t assist me on stage, either.”

“Huh.” Kim considered. She hadn’t known any truly successful actresses, but she’d seen enough of the shows in Covent Gardens to know that what Mairelon said was true. On stage, at least, the better actresses aped the accents of nobility. The prospect of learning to do the same was not unappealing. “All right, then. What’s first?”

Mairelon let out his breath as though he had been afraid she would think the suggestion insulting. “First, you stop using quite so much thieves’ cant,” he said briskly. “You’ll have to practice all the time, until it seems natural.”

“Practice
talkin’
? Just to sound flash? I—” Kim stopped. “Oh. That’s what you meant, ain’t it?”

“It’s exactly what I meant,” Mairelon said, and waited.

“Mmmm.” This was going to be harder than she’d thought. “What else?”

She could hear the smile in Mairelon’s voice as he went on with his instruction. There seemed to be an endless number of different things for Kim to remember to say, or not to say, or to say instead of something else. Mairelon was both patient and creative. He explained each of his directions carefully. He made up sample conversations and recited them in different styles, so that Kim could hear the difference between the speech of a London costermonger and that of a Sussex yeoman, a middle-class tradesman, or a north country Viscount. Then he had Kim imitate each of his voices, correcting her gently whenever she slipped.

It was an amusing way of passing the time; Kim didn’t even notice when the interior of the wagon began to grow lighter. She was almost disappointed when, shortly after dawn, Hunch pulled into the yard of a coaching inn, temporarily ending the lesson.

While Hunch watered the horses, Mairelon produced the package he had brought back to the wagon the previous night. To Kim’s surprise, it contained a boy’s jacket, shirt, and breeches. They were nearly new, and much finer than the best clothing Kim had ever worn. “That’s for me?” she said in disbelief.

“Of course,” Mairelon replied. “It wouldn’t fit me, or Hunch, either. I’d intended to get you a dress as well, but there wasn’t time. We’ll have to attend to that later.”

Kim was reduced to near speechlessness. Mairelon waved away her attempts at thanking him and shooed her out into the inn’s yard. There he insisted that Kim wash as much of herself as could be decently managed under the inn’s pump. Hunch fussed with the horses and muttered into his mustache throughout the entire proceeding. Only then would Mairelon allow Kim to try on her new clothes.

Back inside the wagon, Kim shinned out of her own tattered clothing immediately and pulled on the garments Mairelon had brought her. The
breeches were a little tight and the jacket was a little loose, but the clothes remained the best she had ever worn. She shrugged her shoulders, testing the movement of the jacket, then grinned and threw open the wagon door.

Mairelon was nowhere in sight, but Hunch was standing beside the steps. “ ’Ere,” he said, and handed her a chunk of fresh bread and a slice of cheese. “We ain’t stopping long,” he added in response to her look of surprise. “Eat while you can.”

This was entirely in accord with Kim’s philosophy, and she bit into the bread with great satisfaction. “Where’s Mairelon?” she asked as she munched. She was disappointed that he had not stayed to see how she looked.

“There.” Hunch jerked his head toward the stable, but did not elaborate.

Kim nodded, her mouth full, and sat down on the steps to finish her meal. Mairelon returned just as she swallowed the last of the bread and cheese. She scrambled to her feet so that he could get the full effect of her new finery, and he nodded thoughtfully.

“You make a very pretty boy,” he said. “But I don’t think you’ll want to hike the roads in those. Try this.”

Kim caught the bundle he tossed her and looked at him in bewilderment. “Hike?”

“I told you the wagon wasn’t meant for riding in, remember? Unless we’re in a hurry, we walk. It’s less work for the horses.”

Kim nodded and went back inside. The bundle was yet another set of clothes, plain and much-mended, but clean. They looked like farmers’ wear; Mairelon must have gotten them from one of the stable hands. She frowned suddenly. She was glad she wouldn’t have to wear the rags she’d had on earlier, but she was rapidly becoming uncomfortable with the number of things Mairelon was giving her. She didn’t like owing him so much; it gave him a claim on her, and she still didn’t know what he expected in return. Well, she hadn’t asked him for any of it. It was his own lookout if she sherried off with everything. She shrugged and reached for the clothes.

When she emerged, she found that Mairelon had changed his full-dress
London evening garb for something very like a laborer’s smock. Kim had to suppress a laugh; in the patched, brown homespun he bore a strong resemblance to a not-very-reputable tinker’s helper. As soon as he was ready, they left the yard. Hunch led the horses instead of driving from the van, and Mairelon and Kim walked along behind the wagon.

Mairelon showed Kim some of his simpler magic tricks as they walked. He claimed that doing them on the move was more difficult than working them on stage, and therefore it was good practice. Kim was particularly fascinated by the various ways of tying knots that slid apart like oiled snakes if the right loop were pulled. She made Mairelon show her how they were tied, going slowly through the process several times. Then she practiced until she could manage a creditable performance.