The Lost Girl, part twenty-three

Breakfast the following morning was a stiff, elegant, and very formal affair. Tammy and Maggie were seated opposite Peter and Antoinette, with Agatha opposite Elyssa and Morri beside her, opposite Chris: an arrangement that put Chris at precisely the opposite corner of the table from Tammy. 

For her part, Tammy had glanced at him once as they entered the elegant dining room with its long, ornate mahogany table and matching chairs, and ignored him afterwards. He wasn't immediately sure if the seating arrangement was her idea, or whether Amelie Hargrave -- sitting comfortably at the head of the table -- had made the arrangements. It didn't really matter; he'd obviously managed to make himself unwelcome. 

I shouldn't have asked for her card, he realized. It would have been a very forward thing to say even if he'd been mage; for an outsider to make the request was probably scandalous -- the sort of thing that could get him into real trouble with House Hargrave and the Ministry both. 

"You look thoughtful," Morri said. 

"Just hoping I didn't screw up too badly," he replied. "This issue with time flowing at different rates... does that come up often?"

Morri half-nodded in a yes-and-no gesture. "It does, but usually not this much. Usually it's a small enough difference that it's easy to ignore."

"That particular place has always been like that," Agatha said. "My people -- my former people -- use it when they want to get away from something." She paused, looking thoughtful. "They visit anyway sometimes, but they've definitely made it a point to go there when they wanted more time away from some place they'd just visited."

"Huh," said Morri, and then sat back. "Do you think--"

She cut off as a small chime sounded, and a side door opened to admit a trio of liveried servants -- two men and a woman, all slender and good-looking, and all carrying plates laden with food. "Crepes with a spicy creme sauce, maple bacon, and melon balls," announced the woman in front. 

They began with Amelie Hargrave, then moved down the table to serve the magi. Then, after a brief return to the kitchen, they served the outsiders as well. Enforcing the social order, Chris thought to himself and shoved his anger down. He didn't need Amelie Hargrave to remind him of his place here; he only needed her to see that he accepted it. What made it difficult was seeing that they treated Agatha the same way; for this morning, at least, she was lumped in with the outsiders rather than the family. 

He waited until Amelie Hargrave had taken a bite, chewed, and swallowed; then, following Antoinette's example, he dug in. The food was good, at least, though he suspected that he was missing some details that the Hargraves would have considered very important. Then again, that was true of his impressions of the furnishings and decorations here in the dining room as well: he could see that they were expensive and tasteful, but he couldn't have identified a specific style for any of it.

They ate and made carefully casual conversation, and Chris did his best to be unobtrusive and inoffensive; he'd crossed enough lines on this assignment already. He kept his attention at his end of the table, talking quietly with Morri, Agatha, and Elyssa while the magi spoke with each other on the other end of the table. 

When the meal was finished, lady Amelie rose from her seat and raised her glass. "A toast," she said, "to the Ministry, its representatives here, and the help you've given us." 

Peter nodded to Antoinette and raised his glass. "To our gracious hostess, for her hospitality and understanding."

They drank, and as far as Chris was concerned that marked the end of the meal. Peter lingered behind to exchange a few last words with the lady Hargrave, while the rest of them went back to their rooms to grab their packs. When they met back in the foyer, lady Hargrave was gone -- as were her daughter, Tammy Carterhaugh, and the shadow-walker Agatha. 

It was Jacques who led them out the door and conducted them to their rented van. Chris had no idea what the man's place in the household was, but evidently he acted with his mistress' full authority. 

Chris didn't care. He climbed in, still thinking back over the assignment and picking apart the details in his mind. There were so many things he could have handled better... Not fighting with Morri, or at least doing a better job of warning Antoinette first... Not asking Tammy for her card... showing proper deference to Amelie Hargrave... 

He started to sit, and realized that there was something in the side pocket of his pants. He reached into his pocket, touched it, and felt the faintest hint of chill through a slender wooden case. There was a card in there, one of the Arcana. It had to be Tammy's, and Agatha must have slipped it into his pocket during breakfast. 

He didn't know whether to be pleased or terrified. He should never have offered to give the girl answers about her cousin, and he'd have to be very careful about how he contacted her. They could both wind up in a very great deal of trouble over this. Still... it was almost a relief. It felt like he'd been granted a chance to pay off a debt. 

"Chris?" asked Elyssa, studying his face. 

"Tell you later," he said.