It does not disappoint.
For a few moments, my entire world consists of Finn—his mouth, his hands. Eventually, I pull away, burrowing my cold face into his neck. He shivers and wraps both arms around me. “Good Lord, you’re freezing.”
“I’m all right,” I insist. But above us, the clock tower chimes half past.
“You ought to go in. What if someone notices you missing?”
“They won’t. My roommate sleeps very soundly.”
“The one with the short hair and freckles? She gave you her cider,” he remembers, and I nod, ridiculously pleased that he was watching, as conscious of me as I was of him.
“She’s very sweet.” I pull back to look up at him. “How’s Rory?”
“Hysterical. I gave her some whiskey and stayed with her until she nodded off.”
“It was good of you to look after her.” It’s so very Finn to want to care for everyone, even a sobbing girl he barely knows. “It was Rory, you know, who did the magic. Not Sachi. She lost control.”
I explain the truth of it—that they’re sisters and witches—much to Finn’s surprise. “Sachi will be sent to Harwood, won’t she?” I ask.
Finn nods, his chocolate eyes sad. “There’s no avoiding it. Not with that many witnesses.” He’s right, I know, but it breaks my heart to hear it. He twines his fingers through mine. “Do you think you can risk sneaking out like this again? Not two nights in a row, but—”
“The day after tomorrow?” I suggest.
“Sunday,” he agrees. “It can’t come soon enough. I—I love you, Cate.”
It still feels like magic, hearing him say it. I touch my lips to his, a quick butterfly brush. “And I love you. You mustn’t ever doubt it.”
It’s mad and dangerous, these midnight trysts. For both of us. The day after tomorrow feels an eon away—particularly with my trip to Harwood looming. But as I slip back toward the convent, I feel more determined than ever to use my magic to help change things.
It’s as though a pale, sad, imitation Cate has been drifting through these halls the last month, and now, buoyed up by Finn’s love and the promise of soon seeing my sisters, I am made solid.
My confidence lasts until I slip into the shadowy kitchen, bend to remove my boots, and find Sister Inez staring at me.
“Hello, Miss Cahill.” She’s perching on a high kitchen stool near the fireplace. Ashes glow a soft orange in the grate. “Your roommate woke and found you missing. She was worried that some terrible accident had befallen you—that you had been kidnapped, perhaps.”
I let out a forced laugh. “Rilla reads too many novels. I couldn’t sleep, so I went out for a walk in the garden.”
“At midnight? In this weather?” Sister Inez lights a candle and sets it between us on the oak table that serves as a kitchen workspace. “I’m not a fool. I saw you weren’t alone.”
I go still. Has she told anyone else? Should I erase her memory of seeing us together? I suppose I’d have to compel Rilla, too, to keep her from asking Inez any troublesome questions. My mind whirls.
“There’s no need to do anything rash.” Even now Inez is wearing her black uniform. Does she sleep in it? Her chestnut hair is braided into a long plait that reaches her waist, and though she must be near forty, there’s only a little gray at her temples. “I’ve no intention of harming Brother Belastra.”
I hang my cloak on the peg by the door, though I’m reluctant to take my eyes off her. It feels rather like turning my back on a poisonous snake.
She taps her long, bony fingers against the table, and the silver ring of the Sisterhood catches the candlelight. “I take it the two of you have made amends? He’s forgiven you for your desertion?”
As though I ever wanted to desert him. I give a terse nod.
“And he knows what you are? Knows the truth of the Sisterhood? It won’t help him if you lie to me,” she adds sharply.
“He won’t tell anyone—he’s far more sympathetic to us than to the Brotherhood,” I assure her. I’m still hovering just inside the door, my back against the wall where the cheery yellow paper is marred by gray soot.
“That’s perfect.” Inez smiles. “Brother Belastra is a clever young man, by all accounts. There’s a position available as a clerk for one of the members of the Head Council, Brother Denisof. If Belastra applied for it, I could see to it he would be successful. He would remain right here in New London—and think how helpful it would be for the Sisterhood to have such an ally.”
Selfishly, I am tempted. In a few weeks, the National Council meetings will be over, and Finn and Brother Ishida will go back to Chatham. Who knows when we might see each other again.
“I’d ask that you keep this arrangement just between the three of us, of course. There would be no need for anyone else to know—not even Cora,” Sister Inez says.
I sidle closer. Candlelight makes the copper pots glow against the brick wall behind the cookstove. “But she already has a spy on the Head Council, doesn’t she?”
“She does.” Inez’s jaw clenches. “But if you and I work together, we would be quite formidable. Cora is content to let dozens more girls suffer, perhaps even die, at the Brothers’ hands. She’ll tell you that sacrifices must be made, that it could be years until we are able to share power with the Brothers—and even then, it will be shared.” Sister Inez spits out the word. “If things go my way, we could be in power in a matter of months. You and Mr. Belastra could marry instead of sneaking around.”
I lean forward, resting my palms against the trestle table. Sister Sophia has left the bread for our breakfast out to rise. “I’ve already declared my intention. I can’t marry.”
Inez leans forward on the other side of the table. “If the ruse of the Sisterhood were no longer necessary, you could do whatever you like.”
Inez is using my feelings for Finn to manipulate me; I know that, and yet I’m not immune to it. Frankly, her arguments make sense. After what we saw tonight, perhaps they make more sense than Sister Cora’s caution.
“Will you speak with him about it? Ask him to apply for that position?”
I hesitate. “What else would you need him to do?”
“Just apply, for now.” Inez blows out the candle. “You’re doing the right thing, Miss Cahill. Put your faith in me, and I’ll see to it that we both get what we want.”
Chapter 5
THE NEXT MORNING, SISTER GRETCHEN knocks on my door before breakfast. “We have a problem downstairs. Can you come with me?”
I drop my brush onto my unmade bed. It’s amazing how much sunnier I feel, having reconciled with Finn. And if there’s a chance that he could stay in New London and we could see each other often—
“Of course. What is it?”
Gretchen squints at me through the bright light pouring in through the yellow curtains. “There’s a girl here begging to join the Sisterhood. Miss Elliott. Says she’s a friend of yours?”
I grab a few pins from the dressing table, twisting my hair up as we go. “Rory,” I say from between the hairpins in my mouth. Tess always reprimands me when I do this; she says one day I’ll swallow one. I smile. She and Maura should be here soon—perhaps even tomorrow.