He opened his hands. “It doesn’t appear I have any. Well, that’s not true. I have two friends who would never desert me—Henry and Rory. You saw Henry. He’d help me if he could, but he’s in debt and somewhat in denial about it. And Rory has disappeared. No, it’s not like that. His wife died and he left for the Continent. No one seems to know how to reach him.”
“There’s no one else?”
He shook his head. “In my world—well, it’s not my world any longer—everything is about title and status. I’m a pariah now. No one wants to be associated with me.”
Violet sat up straight, hoping the knot would loosen now. “Well, you’ll just have to make the best of it, then.”
“Make the best of it?” King stared at her.
“Yes. Look at you. You’re young, healthy, educated. You aren’t without resources. As long as you don’t decide to drink yourself to death, you can make something of yourself.”
“Oh, God. That sounds sobourgeois.”
“I don’t know what that means, but I would assumebourgeoisis better than lying in the gutter, begging for food.”
“Yes, well, that might be how I end up. I told you this hasalmosteverything to do with the attainder. There’s more.”
Ah, this was why she still felt sick to her stomach. She’d somehow known there would be more. King opened his mouth to tell her, then closed it, stood, walked across the room, and turned to face her. When he still didn’t speak, she raised her brows. “Go on.”
“I don’t know how to say it.”
Violet turned to face him fully. “It can’t be worse than the treason.”
“It’s not worse, it’s… I don’t think you’ll believe me. You’ll think me mad.”
She was intrigued. “Well, now you must tell me. I have all sorts of ideas racing about my mind.”
He sighed and stuck his hands in the pockets of his trousers. “I’m cursed.”
Violet thought for a moment and resisted the urge to ask him to repeat himself. “Cursed? Like a spell?”
“Exactly. A”—he looked about as though wanting to make sure they were alone before continuing—“a witch put a curse on me.”
“Does this have to do with the old woman who left that scrap of paper for you?”
“Yes.” He strode over to her and sat on the stool again. “I think that was the witch’s sister.”
Violet took King’s hand, surprised it was so cold. “In my experience, witches are usually women of learning whom men fear. A woman has knowledge of healing, and men accuse her of witchcraft rather than acknowledging her talents. I don’t think I believe ineye of newtand cauldrons and broomsticks and the like.”
“Neither did I, but I can’t explain this away. I tried, and then the witch’s sister—hell, she’s probably a witch too—found me yesterday. Explain that.”
“I don’t know how to explain anything. You’d better start at the beginning.”
King told her about the lark he and his friends had perpetrated when they’d been at school. He told her about hearing the witch curse them and then forgetting about it.
“Except the curse was supposed to come to fruition when we turned thirty. Do you know what happened when Rory turned thirty?”
“He left for the Continent?”
“Because his wife and son died in a carriage accident. On his thirtieth birthday.”
“People die in carriage accidents all the time. Children are run down in the street daily. That’s why I won’t allow Georgie to go out on his own. But they are accidents, not curses.”
“Violet—you said I can call you Violet?”
“I suppose you ought to after these shared confidences.”
“Violet, you don’t think it’s something of a coincidence that on Rory’s thirtieth birthday he loses his wife, and on mine, my father is found guilty of treason?”
