Free The Magicians and Mrs. Quent by Galen Beckett Page B

said in surprise.
    Ivy held up the letter. The address was written in a formal—if rather cramped—hand and was sealed with a circle of red wax. Before Ivy could turn the letter over and read the sender’s name, Mrs. Lockwell plucked it from her grasp.
    “I’ll take that,” she said, and without looking at it tucked the letter into the pocket of her apron. “Now, pour the tea, Lily, before it turns to ice.”
    “Who is the other letter from?” Rose asked.
    Ivy tried not to think of the letter her mother had whisked away and picked up the other. “It’s from our cousin, Mr. Wyble,” she said.
    “A letter from Mr. Wyble?” Mrs. Lockwell said in a tone that might have frosted the windowpanes if they hadn’t been already. “What an unexpected pleasure. Usually he chooses to inflict himself upon us in person.”
    Lily giggled but clapped a hand to her mouth at a sharp look from Ivy. “Would you like to read it, Mother?” Ivy said, holding out the letter, but Mrs. Lockwell shook her head.
    “You read it to us, Ivoleyn. My eyes are too poor for this light. And perhaps his words will be improved coming from your lips.”
    Ivy doubted that would be the case, but she did her best to inject a note of enthusiasm into her voice as she held the letter close to a candle and read aloud. It was written in an overlarge and effusive hand, which, though a strain on the eye, meant the letter was thankfully not very long despite its several pages.
    “To my beloved Aunt Lockwell and my cherished cousins,”
Ivy read,
“submitted with most felicitous greetings and a fervent wish for your continued happiness and well-being.”
    “I hardly think he wishes for
my
continued well-being,” Mrs. Lockwell exclaimed. “For the longer I continue to be well, the longer this house will continue to not be
his
.”
    Ivy chose to ignore this comment and kept reading.
    “I regret that I was unable to pay you a visit this month past, as is my usual custom. My occupation, as you know, requires my fullest attention. I must always be at my law books, for it is my duty to know of every regulation and statute there is. Indeed, there is no rule too minor, obscure, or dull that I will not spend hours and hours reading all that there is about it.”
    “And then spend hours and hours telling us about it,” Lily said with a groan.
    Ivy cast her a sharp look, though she had to admit, Mr. Wyble
did
have a tendency to expound at length upon legal philosophy when he visited.
    “While my schedule would have permitted me to pay you a visit around the middle of the month, another opportunity was presented to me, which, I am sure once the particulars are heard, you must judge was the wisest investment of my time. Recently I had the good fortune to be of service to Lady Marsdel, a most noble personage of the highest degree. In her extreme—dare I say, almost overpowering—generosity, she invited me to an affair at her house in the New Quarter. There I was happy to make the acquaintance of many remarkable and important persons.”
    “More important persons than us, it seems,” Mrs. Lockwell said with a frown as she poured a cup of tea.
    Despite his profession of affection for his aunt and cousins, it was clear that going to a party had been more important to Mr. Wyble than visiting family. Not that Ivy felt they should complain, and certainly Lily would speak the praises of anything that kept Mr. Wyble away. She glanced over the next few pages and saw that there was a great deal about the affair at Lady Marsdel’s. Ivy decided it judicious to offer a brief summary and get to the end of the letter.
    “It seems the party at Lady Marsdel’s offered much amusement,” she said, turning to the last page.
“And in close, it is my intention to visit you this month—if other obligations allow—and when I come I hope to bring with me a delightful new friend whose acquaintance I made at Lady Marsdel’s and whose introduction I am certain you would enjoy as