A Flaw In Her Magic

*coming this Summer from Naked Reader press, and set in the same world as A Touch of Night*
A Flaw In Her Magic

Sarah A. Hoyt
Based On the Novel Mansfield Park by Jane Austen
I

About thirty years ago, Miss Maria Ward, of Huntington, with only seven thousand pounds and meager magic to her lot – her being no more than a half blood – astounded her acquaintances by capturing Sir Thomas Bertram, of Mansfield Park, in Northampton. The baronet, despite his family’s ancient magic, one of the purest magical lines in the country, was so captivated by Miss Maria’s beauty that no one else would do for him.

All Huntingdon exclaimed at the greatness of the match and predicted that her two sisters – not mean looking themselves – would surely benefit from her elevation. In fact, it was widely expected that Miss Frances and Miss Ward , quite as handsome as their sister, should marry to equal advantage.

Alas, they were wrong. There weren’t enough men of large fortune and clean magic to marry every girl beautiful enough to attract them. At the end of half a dozen years, Miss Ward found herself obliged to accept the proposal of the reverend Norris, a friend of her brother-in-law. Though he had hardly any private fortune, he had received from Sir Thomas the living of Mansfield, which made him the possessor of a thousand a year.

Miss Frances, however, made a runaway marriage. Before her family or either of her sisters had any idea of her intention, she vanished from her room in the dark of night. Despite all searches, no trace of a rope ladder was found and the pursuit that attempted to stop the couple before reaching Gretna Green found themselves, inexplicably, three days behind and the couple married and lodging together at an inn for more than a night.

Thus, Miss Frances became Mrs. Price.

Not only the manner of her marriage, but her refusal to divulge anything about how it had taken place, drove a wedge between herself and her family, which subsisted for eleven years, when the mysteries attaching to the connection were all solved.

Because the connection between the families had been nearly cut, it is perhaps not surprising that these news were brought not by common acquaintances or friendly messengers, but by the London Post, which Sir Bertram had discarded upon the breakfast table, after reading the financial news necessary to manage his financial empire of carpetships, magical manufactories and various other interests around the world.

Mrs. Norris, having come to the great house to inform her sister of what charity was needed in the village – a duty she maintained was hers as the reverend’s wife – picked up the discarded paper and read through it.

Her exclamation, highly improper for a clergyman’s wife, made Lady Bertram look up from her embroidery. “What has happened, my dear?” the good, if indolent, lady roused herself to ask. “Is anything amiss?”

Mrs. Norris, who had gone the color of the paper in her hands, dropped nervelessly onto a dining room chair and commenced fanning herself with the printed leaves.

Though Nurse was sent for the smelling salts, it was some time before Mrs. Norris could speak, and she would only consent to do so when Nurse had left the room and no other servant was visible. “I don’t think we can keep it quiet much longer,” she said, still fanning herself. “For I daresay it is one of those secrets that will out.”

“What secret?” Lady Bertram asked almost fully awake to the possibility something very wrong was toward. “What can you be speaking of, my dear?”

“Well!” Mrs. Norris said. “If it isn’t just like our sister Fanny, always so headstrong as she was, and given to distempered freaks.”

“Fanny? Our sister Fanny?” Lady Bertram asked, now fully alive to impending disaster. “What can our sister Fanny have done that is talked about in the paper?”

“Not Fanny,” Mrs. Norris answered in a thread of voice. “But rather that luckless husband of hers.” She tried to extend the paper in her sister’s direction and failing – because Lady Bertram made no move to receive it – exclaimed. “He has been apprehended for being a were-dragon and forthwith executed in the public square.”

This revelation being of more than anticipated horror made Lady Bertram stare in speechless shock at her sister. At long last she managed no more than ,“But… But the children. I am sure that she has children… And she… herself.”

“She,” Mrs. Norris said, in something that might have been spite. “Escaped persecution because both she and Mr. Price maintained that she knew nothing of the matter. While you know that can’t possibly be true.”

“How can I know that isn’t true?” Lady Bertram asked, in some wonder. Having been a celebrated beauty in her day, the lady had never found much reason to employ her mind.

“The dragon. The flight to Gretna Green,” Mrs. Norris said, snorting. “Flight indeed. No wonder the pursuers were three days behind.”

“Oh,” Lady Bertram said. “Oh, but we shouldn’t–”

“No, of course we shouldn’t denounce our own sister,” Mrs. Norris said. “What can you be thinking of, my dear? Not only would it be excessively cruel, but think of what it would mean for us to be tainted with having an executed aider and abetter of weres in our family. For you know very well that death is dictated for the offense for those who hide weres as well for those who shift form. And if our sister were executed, depend upon it that soon the rumor would go out that she herself was a were. And then… Well, think what people might assume of the blood of your two sons and your lovely daughters, all of whom will have to find spouses and make their way in the world. And poor Mr. Norris, as a clergyman surely can’t afford such a blot upon our name!”

“I wasn’t thinking of denouncing her,” Lady Bertram said, as she absentmindedly petted the little pug dog by her side. “Only what is to become of her children? For I seem to recall not that long ago getting word that she had been brought to bed with her eighth child. Or was it the ninth?”
ab

It wasn’t something they would wish to keep secret from Lord Bertram and, in fact, they immediately applied to him in the belief that his superior understanding and judgement would make it possible for him to discover what was best to be done.

He’d taken refuge in his office, where they found him. After the whole matter had been expounded to him, as he sat on the chair by the fireplace and looked as though he’d been struck by a lightening bolt, Mrs. Norris upheld the opinion that, “Perhaps it would be best to do nothing, for I believe there are legal arrangements in place to look after the children of those discovered as weres, are there not?”

Lord Bertram nodded. “Well, they are supposed to be taken to special houses. Were-orphans they’re called,” he said. “They are taken to special houses, where they are raised in the most strict virtue and discipline, in the hopes that by upbringing any flaw in their blood might be mitigated. They are not, of course, allowed to stay with their parent, even should the parent, as your sister did, survive, because they are believed best removed from such evil influences.”

“There, you see, my dear Maria,” Mrs. Norris said. “The children will be well taken care of, and thus we will not be involved in the whole sorry affair.”

But Lord Bertram was stroking his red beard, absently, a gesture he employed when deep in thought. “Mind you,” he said. “I’ve always heard of those houses as being terrible places and the lot of the children placed there far worse than the lot of children thrown on the parish or sent to work houses. One hears … rumors… of beatings and cold water baths and… and of other abuses,” he said coloring a little. “I would not wish any of my nephews of nieces to be subjected to such. And there’s no doubt the court would allow them to live with us, given our probity and respectability as well as the ancient and pure nature of my magic.”

“Well,” Mrs. Norris said. “I’m sure such rumors are unfounded and that–”

“On the other hand the upbringing of orphans – even those whose blood is not tainted – is an expensive affair, and what with the Chinese pirates attacking two of my carpetships only last week, my affairs aren’t going as famously as I’d like them to. It would be best, perhaps, to find them a good and honest farm wife, who would take them all in and raise them. I can then apply to the home for their release. I believe farm wives are willing to raise children for a quite modest sum.”

The endeavor proved more complicated than at first anticipated. The children, it appeared, had not only been taken over by the vast apparatus that his majesty’s government employed to suppress dangerous weres – they had been dispersed throughout the country to various institutions designated for the upbringing of were- orphans. And the majority of them appeared to have vanished as thoroughly as though they’d been turned invisible.

Lord Bertram, worried, had contracted with a man to investigate their probable whereabouts, and had followed a presumption that perhaps their name had been misspelled. However, two orphans under the name of Brice bore no resemblance to any of the missing children; three young men by the name of Prince were far too old to be Mrs. Price’s brood. In the end, only two were found – the eldest, William, aged 12 and Fanny, aged 10. They had been sent to a home in Wales under the surname Prize, but they were old enough to know their own name and how to write it, and so were discovered.

Removing them from the home involved another bit of work, starting with determining whether they wanted to remove them at all.

“Well,” Mrs. Norris said, doubtfully, as she and her sister Bertram and Lord Bertram gathered in the sitting room after the children had gone to bed. “At those ages, perhaps they could be of some use around the house. But I do not see that there’s any great urgency in removing them from the home, is there? I mean, they are not helpless babes who might–”

“I believe,” Lord Bertram interrupted. “That the investigator who saw both the children considers our niece, Fanny, to be prettyish.”

“Well… well… so much the better,” Mrs. Norris said. “Doubtless, given a strict education, she will emerge with enough poise and grace to attract a good marriage. Well, not what would be considered a good marriage for your daughters, Lord Bertram, of course. With no dowry and tainted magic in her blood, the poor mite can’t be expected to marry into any of the good orders of society. Why, I doubt even half-bloods with only a little bit of magic would consent to ally themselves with her. But it is quite possible that a farmer–”

“Mrs. Norris, you are a clergyman’s wife,” Lord Bertram said, sternly. “As such, I don’t doubt that you know what terrible things men can do to prettyish young ladies with no protection, particularly in such a setting as a home that employs… less than the most elevated elements of society.”

Mrs. Norris seemed so unsettled by this that she couldn’t find words.

“No,” Sir Bertram said. “We will have to get her out. At least her. Though the investigator also tells me that William is clever and good at his maths and mad to go on the carpetships.” He sighed. “That is easy enough to manage, since I can arrange for him to start as a cabin boy on one of my Caribbean line carpetships. But Fanny…” He shook his head. “If we take her under our protection, something will have to be done for her. I can’t raise her here and expect her to have nothing upon her marriage. Perhaps if you and Mr. Norris could contribute something and Lady Bertram and I–”

“But she would have something,” Mrs. Norris said. She snorted. “Why any girl given the privilege of consorting with your daughters, and acquiring such conduct and being brought into fashion, cannot fail to make a good marriage. She should consider herself fortunate.”

Lord Bertram looked doubtful, and yet undertook the long process of bringing the children out of the home.
ab

When Fanny Price was collected from the were-orphans home, she was given no idea where she would be going, nor who was to be in charge of her.

Just as suddenly as she’d been removed from her home to the were-orphans home, given no time to collect her things or even to make sure that her siblings stayed together, given an ugly grey uniform and dark, flat shoes, so now she was removed from the dormitory and brought up front, where she was relieved to find William was also upfront, ready to be picked up by a kind man with a pony trap, which delivered them to the post house, which in due time allowed them to board the express and delivered them to the grand gates of Mansfield park.

She was less sanguine about finding that her brother William would be leaving the very next morning to join the crew of Lord Bertram’s carpetship, The Favorable Winds.

Though William had always wanted to go aboard one of the grand palaces built atop flying carpets and visit the four corners of the world, though he’d long dreamed of eventually becoming Air Captain Price, the supreme authority aboard one of those, Fanny had hoped to have his company yet a while longer.

His leaving meant she stayed behind marooned with a lot of strangers. Less than a year ago, she’d been the eldest daughter of a hopeful family– not wealthy but certainly not starving, and cheerful with it. Now she was bereft of mother and siblings and as to poor papa she’d been warned never to mention him nor the manner of his demise to anyone.

Everyone in the household intimidated her, from her kind but stern uncle Bertram, to her indolent aunt to their two boys who were so grown as to appear as adults to her. Even the girls, who were closer to her age, scared her.

A day in the schoolroom with their governess was enough to allow Fanny to understand she’d not been taught any of the genteel magical arts that her cousins were conversant with.

“Mama, Fanny is so stupid,” Julia said. “She can’t even light a mage light.”

“Yes, Mama,” Maria said. “She’s like a half blood. She can’t even make a show of lights, or a display of colors.”

But the most alarming report came from the governess herself to Sir Bertram, one evening after dinner. “I am afraid, sir, that she’s not so much stupid as unable.”

The gentleman looked up in confusion. “Well, I know the magic in my wife’s side is not very strong. They’ve married in trade a few times and diluted its potency. But yet, she’s not a commoner. She ought to be able to do something. I mean, at the very least the pretty light shows and things that any well-bred young damsel ought to command.”

The governess had looked worried. “Yes, I know she should, sir, but I’m very much afraid that she can’t. It’s as though there is…” She looked down at her feet, as if afraid to face him with the bad news. “A flaw in her magic.”

“A flaw in her magic?” Lord Bertram asked. “Surely you’re not implying she is… a were? Ridiculous. Surely it would have manifested by now?” But in his heart of hearts, Lord Bertram wondered what he’d brought into his home and family.