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“Yes. Have you heard of those? They’re for people without trust funds.”

“I deserved that. Why don’t you just transport yourself there magically?”

“It’s a non-magical workplace, so I can’t just appear there, Corvus, I’ve already missed the bus saving you from your fake assailant. The ship has sailed. I actually have to walk through the door.”

This day was just getting better and better. Corvus excelled at transportation magic, and a golden opportunity to show off for the girl he liked had just been dropped into his lap. Now, if only he could play it cool. “What if I told you I could get you there? That no one would be any the wiser?”

Pearl raised an eyebrow skeptically. “I’d say I don’t believe you.”

Corvus gave her a smug grin and put out a hand. “Why don’t you take my hand and find out?”

Rolling her eyes, Pearl started to walk away. “I don’t have time for this.”

“What are you scared of? That you’re right, or that I am?”

Whirling, her hand was in his before he could blink. “Let’s see it then, Winterbourne. I’m a lot of things but scared isn’t one of them.”

Corvus’ smile just grew wider as red light flared, and they whirled away. When they reappeared, they were standing in front of a nondescript used bookstore. It looked old and worn but still tidy and inviting. As he looked over the building, he saw Pearl’s mouth open in amazement.

“How did you do that?! I didn’t even tell you where to go! No one even glanced in our direction when we appeared! You have to explain this to me now.”

“What if I explained it to you on a date?”

Corvus was getting quite addicted to Pearl’s laughs. They were loud and boisterous and unrestrained. Most of the women in his life tittered politely, but he knew when she was laughing it was because she was genuinely amused - not because she’d been taught she was supposed to laugh to make men feel better about themselves.

“That might be the cleverest ruse to get me on a date I’ve ever seen. Certainly better than getting your friend to punch you in an alley. I’ll probably regret rewarding such stupid behavior, but something in my lizard brain is intrigued by someone who would go so far out of his way to catch my attention, and then you have to go and whet my insatiable curiosity. I will allow you to take me on one date, Corvus Winterbourne, and that’s all I’ll promise you at this point.”

And if she had looked back when she swept into the door to her workplace, she would have seen Corvus’ brightest smile of all.

Chapter five

Present - January

Almost as soon as Pearl arrived home from the Winterbourne Manor, a letter on beautiful thick creamy stationary dropped delicately into her hands. She broke the familiar seal and found that for all its pageantry, the missive contained only one line.

What if I told you I found a copy of The Romance of the Devil’s Fart?

A laugh burst from her throat before she could stop it. She pulled out some old stationary her mother had given her when she was in middle school of Peter Rabbit and friends and wrote with her best penmanship.

Corvus,

I’ve already agreed to cursebreak your library. You don’t have to keep throwing lost medieval texts at me. And anyway, most scholars agree Villon was making a joke. Also, why are we writing letters to each other like we’re long lost pen pals. Please tell me you’ve finally managed to get a cell phone?

Less than warm regards,

Pearl

P.S. Didn’t someone in your army of tutors teach you that you are supposed to sign a letter rather than assuming the recipient knows who it is?

Throwing the letter like a frisbee, Pearl’s focus flared brightly and the letter disappeared. She didn’t have to wait long for a response.

It would give me the greatest of joys to know that my tutors were displeased with me. They were all so busy puckering up to my parents, hoping a stray coin would fly their way, they spent little time trying to gain my good graces, which was frankly shortsighted of them. Also, did your tutors not teach you how to properly send a letter? I almost lost an eye as this one came hurtling at me at such speed. And I do not, in fact, have a mobile. They’re ghastly. Besides, if I sent you an electronic message, you wouldn’t be able to admire my penmanship.

P.S. I assumed you would know who had written to you as I had hoped I was the only man who was attempting to buy your good graces with rare texts. Am I mistaken?

Corvus,

In fact that was exactly how I was taught to send letters. My cousins and I would take turns trying to bean each other until our parents finally got us cell phones, when Sarah did, in fact, almost lose an eye. I will neither confirm nor deny that I admire your penmanship, but I will call you a cantankerous old fart for calling texts “electronic messages” and cell phones “ghastly.” Perhaps you could get a cell phone to stick it in the eye of all of your tutors?