“Layla.” It was Alastair, having changed out of his torn and ichor-stained clothes. He looked less rumpled but still weary, and grim about the mouth, as if he were not looking forward to returning to the infirmary and Charles. Cordelia had tried to talk to him about it in the carriage on the way to Kensington, but he had been tight-lipped. “The carriage is waiting for us. You can always return tomorrow.”

“Don’t you dare,” whispered Sona, releasing Cordelia with a smile. “Now—run along back to that handsome husband of yours. I am sure he misses you.”

“I will.” Cordelia straightened up. Her eyes met her brother’s across the room. “Only I need to speak with Alastair first. There is something I must ask him to do.”

“Excellent lying, James,” said Matthew, raising a glass of port. “Really top-notch.”

James mimed raising a glass in return. He had wanted to collapse into a chair the moment they’d walked through the front door; rather luckily, Effie had appeared and proceeded to lecture them thoroughly about not getting ichor and dust on the rugs.

“I was warned you’d be coming home filthy,” she said. “But no one told me about the smell of fish. Lord, it’s awful. Like a bunch of rotted oysters.”

“That’s enough, Effie,” said James, seeing Christopher turn green.

“And where’s Mrs. Herondale at?” Effie inquired. “Did the stink drive her off?”

James had explained that Cordelia was visiting her mother and would be returning shortly, which seemed to energize Effie. She packed them all off to clean up and return brushed, washed, and ichor-free to the drawing room, where a fire had been laid in the hearth.

In his bedroom, James found that someone—Effie, most likely—had placed the broken pieces of Grace’s bracelet on his nightstand. Not wanting to leave them out in the open, he put the two halves in his pocket. He would have to return them to Grace, he supposed, though it was hardly what he wanted to think about right now.

By the time he changed clothes and made his way downstairs, he found Anna—who had managed to produce an entire new outfit out of seemingly thin air—lounging in a tapestry chair, wearing matching velvet trousers and a loose jacket in a deep gold color.

Cordelia arrived back at Curzon Street just as Effie came in to lay out a small feast on the table: Lancashire spice nuts, curried shrimp and lauretta sandwiches, London buns and French eclairs.