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room, awaking in early evening. Despair flooded through her as aching muscles and joints reminded her that the rescue and the ghastly aftermath weren’t just a horrible dream.
    Usually the fete would still be in progress at this hour, but today the gardens were empty except for a few servants cleaning up. The events of the afternoon had cast a pall on the festivities. She opened her door and glanced into the corridor. Was there a guard to prevent her from running away?
    No guard. Her father must have known she wouldn’t try to escape because she had nowhere to run. She had considered all her family and friends before grimly accepting that even her doting godmother wouldn’t take her in. She was an outcast, and she’d starve if she ran away from home.
    Tory drifted about her bedroom, fingertips skimming furniture and draperies as if their solid reality could hold her in place. She pulled out drawers, touching small treasures like the first peacock feather she’d ever found and the cameo pin from her godmother and the sparkly nugget of raw gold a friend of her father’s had given her.
    The Mansfields had lived at Fairmount for centuries. Family legend said that ancestors had owned this land even before the Normans invaded more than seven centuries earlier. The ruins of the ancient Mansfield castle were now a favorite picnic spot. Belonging at Fairmount was as much a part of Tory as her bones.
    Yet now, because her mother had brought tainted blood to her marriage, Tory would be exiled from her home. Fury and hatred scorched through her but quickly faded to ashes. It was impossible to really hate her mother.
    Countesses usually left their children to servants, but Lady Fairmount would come to the nursery and play games and read stories. She had taught Tory how to run a household and manage servants and pour tea gracefully. Louisa had been envious because her own mother had never had as much time for her.
    Tory couldn’t bear to think about Louisa.
    She realized tears were streaming down her face. She folded into a ball in the middle of the carpet and wrapped her arms around her knees as she rocked back and forth. It wasn’t fair that she was being punished for doing the right thing!
    Eventually she ran out of tears and was left in a state of gray exhaustion. In this house her father ruled, and he had decreed that she was to be sent away. She climbed wearily to her feet. She must pack for school, but her brain was too tired to think about what she should take.
    A list. She would make a list.
    Her father came to her room while she was deciding what she’d need. Lord Fairmount wore the grim expression of a hanging judge. “I’ll have a servant bring down a trunk, Victoria. Mr. Retter and his wife will escort you to Lackland Abbey. The carriage will be ready directly after breakfast.”
    “You’re sending me with your steward?” she asked bitterly. “You won’t even take me into exile yourself?”
    “It will reduce the scandal if I go about my usual duties.”
    She doubted that. Her actions would be a seven days’ wonder in the county. People would cluck their tongues and say how sad it was that the Mansfields had a mageling daughter while secretly glad to see the wealthiest family in the area brought low. Her father being at home wouldn’t change that. He just didn’t want to be with her.
    She blinked furiously, determined not to cry. “Does it mean nothing that my wicked magic saved the life of your only grandson? A future Earl of Fairmount?”
    “Of course that matters.” He scowled. “Losing Jamie would have devastated us all. But that doesn’t change the fact that you revealed yourself as a mage in the most public of circumstances. Our whole family has been shamed.”
    His expression made her feel ill. Though he was usually busy and distant, she’d always thought he was fond of her. But she was only a daughter, and one who had caused a public scandal for the Mansfield family. He would never forgive her