Read Online Fairies and Felicitations (Scholars and Sorcery) by Eleanor Beresford - Free Book Online Page A

over, our Charles has it worst of all. And she doesn’t yet even know the depths of her dire fate. Shall we take her and introduce her to the lovely Diana, then?”
    “Perhaps they’ll get along,” Cecily says, but even she doesn’t seem to be able to summon much sincere hope. I am beginning to dread the new year. “Don’t put Charley against her before they’ve even met, for heaven’s sake.”
    “Perhaps they will get along, after all.” Esther still looks amused, but the amusement is harder, somehow. Her teeth no longer show in her smile, if it is a smile anymore, rather than just a tight, pressed-together uplift of her lips. It’s the kind of smile she used to give in lower forms, when plotting some ridiculous trick to enliven lessons, or the kind of smile she used when playing Puck when the Dramatic Guild gave some scenes from a Midsummer Night’s Dream at the school concert. “Charley might quite like her. Diana’s extraordinarily decorative, even I must admit that. And so very charming. Maybe I’m just being a beast out of petty jealousy.” She slips from her desk and stands in front of me, still looking down at me with that odd, fey smile. “How does golden hair take your fancy, dear heart?”  
    She lifts a hand to ruffle my curls. She’s standing very close, forcing me to tilt my head back to meet her gaze. Esther’s own hair is almost golden, a fair bronze, and her long dark eyes are sparking with mockery.
    The heat rushes up past my neck and flames in my cheeks.
    “Knock it off.” I push myself to my feet, shoving her aside none too gently. “I’m bored with all this gossip. I’m going to go see if my things have arrived.”
    Cecily’s lips are parted with surprise, but I don’t have any words to explain my rudeness, and I don’t want to talk just now. I want to get away somewhere by myself, and I know it’s impossible in this house full of girls. At least I can get away from Esther.
    My cheeks are burning so much that I change course to go to the bathrooms and splash some water to cool them down. I feel like it’s evaporating straight off my skin. I lean against the wall and give myself a moment to think.
    Back in the stables, my brother William’s friend Roy had asked me, in exactly the same teasing tones, if I was going to miss him when I returned to school. When I looked up at him in surprise, he leaned over me and ruffled my hair in just the same way, and then—  
    I am such an idiot. Just for a crazy second, just because of a tone of voice and a hand in my hair, I’d thought Esther was going to kiss me, right there in front of Cecily. It’s a ridiculous, shameful idea. Unwholesome sentimentality has never been encouraged at Fernleigh Manor; we’re allowed, even encouraged, to form particular friendships, so long as we try to be good influences on each other, and the kids sometimes pick out a heroine in the upper forms, but anything tinged with soppiness is treated with scorn and rubbishing once you get into the Senior School.
    When Roy stole his kiss, I utterly loathed the awkward feel of his lips on mine, the slight roughness of his face. I’d shoved him aside almost as roughly as I had Esther. The problem is, as hard as I try to shove the thought and the feeling down inside, I suspect that Esther’s kiss would not be nearly as awkward and objectionable as Roy’s.
    I don’t know what to do with the thought. I’ve never cherished the slightest hint of sentimental feeling toward Esther. She’s remarkably good looking, of course, with her unusual colouring and graceful figure, and amusing. There’s also something uncomfortable about her, with her air of gently mocking the world while being too clever by half. There’s nothing in that to explain why the thought of that puckish mouth on mine, even now, is making my heart feel like it is beating in my ears and my throat all at once.  

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