Mistress of Magick

By Jane Tinsley

It's one thing for government agent Lady Gillian Lowell to be replaced in the queen's bed after serving as her mistress for the past five years. It's quite another to also be commanded to fulfill her duty as bodyguard to the queen's new mistress.

Frustrated by the situation, but determined to do her duty, Gillian has one summer to find out who wants to harm the queen's new lover, fend off the persistent advances of another noblewoman, and maintain her dignity as she suffers one betrayal after another. With danger at every turn, will Gillian be able to save her country, while learning more about her mysterious connection to the ancient magick and finding the love she's so afraid to admit she wants?

This is a steampunk lesbian romance with a touch of magic and adventure.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jane Tinsley
• Release date: Dec 17, 2020
• ISBN: 9798201855093

Book preview

Chapter One

I had served my queen faithfully for five years, but I had also always known this day would come. The day she no longer wanted me. I sank into my favorite velvety gray chair in the parlor and blew out a dejected sigh.

What was to become of me now? A courtesan, even one with specialized training such as I had, was nothing without a patron. Society would consider such a woman as nothing more than a whore. I didn’t relish that title.

I lifted my gaze to assess the cozy, elegant townhome that I had inherited from my father. Fortunately, money was the least of my concerns. As the only child of a minor, unmarried noble who had died many years ago, I had control of all funds from my father’s estate, the townhome, and the country manor. I had more than enough money to see me through the rest of my life with or without a patron.

However, I was not merely a bastard of aristocratic blood, but now a cast-off courtesan as well. What place in society could I find? What was there for me? While I had never considered marriage, my chances of it were most certainly more than halved at this point in my life since she had ended our association.

I was adrift and I hated that feeling.

Before tonight’s stinging rejection, my days had been well ordered from morning to night. For the past five years, I was both mistress and bodyguard to Queen Amelia Dane, sovereign of Keltria. I was strategically placed in her life and in her bed for the very purpose of providing both companionship and protection. Then, over the course of less than two days, my life changed completely.

Upon her return from a neighboring queendom, she had brought with her a beautiful young woman. Our queen already flouted society’s rules by choosing women, rather than men, as her companions, but now she had taken her desires a step further.

The night she returned from her journey, she didn’t summon me to the palace as I expected. Instead, the summons to meet with her came the next morning. In that private meeting, she told me about her new mistress and released me from my position... to replace me with her.

For the past half-decade, I had devoted my life to serving Queen Amelia as her companion and protector. In a matter of a few hours, I had lost my place as her mistress. I still had a few obligations in my life, but nothing I could throw myself into completely. Although I was not relieved of my post as her bodyguard, surely I couldn’t personally attend to the queen now. It would be too awkward for her new lady, and against the very social structure of the queendom itself.

Slowly, I rose from the chair. I had no need to hurry now. Then again, a lady never hurried anyway. Although my lack of birth legitimacy and long-standing role as a courtesan hardly qualified me as a lady in the social sense of the word, I was still one in the aristocratic sense.

Our relationship certainly had not ended because of my looks. I had features most Keltrians considered attractive––eyes that were more golden than green, shapely lips, and an oval face. Then there was my straight, almost masculine nose. How I hated it. Strong my father had called it, and attractive according to my friends, but not to me. My hair set me apart from the dark-haired Keltrians, however, because it was a light shade of auburn. That trait came courtesy of my mother, a Bayardian actress of whose heritage I knew nothing. Somehow her strawberry blonde beauty had mingled with my father’s dark coloring to produce this unusual effect.

My lady’s maid chose my clothing with care every day. Today, my high-necked day dress was a shade of lavender that brought out the vibrant burgundy tones in my hair and the green in my eyes. Corsets were a normal part of fashion, so I wore one even though I had no need of the shaping or the support with my slender waist and hourglass curves. The dress buttoned down the front and the skirts draped over a bustle, also the height of fashion in modern society. In my role as the queen’s mistress, it had been necessary to dress impeccably. Part of a high-ranking courtesan’s profession was to be at the center of everything, like a lovely decoration or centerpiece in a room.

With another sigh, louder than the first, I turned toward the door. What good was beauty? Did I really want to live off my looks my entire life? The problem was that I didn’t know what I wanted at this point. Everything for the past fifteen years of my life had revolved around my work with the Society of Sovereign Guardians, the agency that had maneuvered to secure me a position as the queen’s mistress.

My status as a member of the Society was a secret kept even from my servants. Women were neither soldiers nor secret agents in Keltria. They glided along the streets in their day dresses, clutching lacy parasols and wearing dainty hats, their outward good manners concealing their hauteur that could only be revealed over tea with intimate acquaintances. How women were expected to behave was the reason the queen felt that I was one of her best weapons.

Who would expect a corseted, bustled, parasol-toting courtesan to be able to kill a man? Furthermore, I could do it with precision, speed, and skill, as I had been trained to do since my adolescence.

What was I to do with my life now, relegated only to the role of bodyguard? Or was that set of duties to be taken from me, as well? I wished I knew.

Excuse me, my lady. My maid and secretary, Ermengarde interrupted my thoughts with her inquiry as she entered the parlor. Is now a good time to discuss tomorrow’s schedule?

She sounded tentative, as though she expected bad news. No doubt she had heard of my expulsion already, as servants were wont to gossip. Now she dreaded her own expulsion and the stress of finding a new post. It was time to act the noblewoman and gracious lady, and to set my personal cynicism aside. She needed reassurance and it was up to me to provide it.

Please, have a seat, Ermengarde, I said, trying to sound as soothing as possible, while also trying to forget that it had already been a morning of bad tidings.

As she chose a place on the loveseat, I sat opposite her in the gray chair. I had sincere regard for Ermengarde Byrne, as well as her husband and daughter. The entire family entered my employ when I was called into the service of the queen. While they knew me as the queen’s mistress, they remained unaware of the fact that I was also her bodyguard for these many years.

Ermengarde kept my home immaculate, as well as maintaining my social calendar and handling my correspondence. Stephen kept the small grounds of my townhome tidy, yet charming with exquisite rosebushes and fragrant honeysuckle planted along my front walkway. He also served as my coachman and had the good grace never to gossip, unlike the women. Fiona was an excellent lady’s maid, mostly because she stayed informed of the new styles with far greater interest than I did. Fashion had never been my forte, so Fiona was probably the most valuable asset to my life as a both a noblewoman and a courtesan.

I must tell you that Her Majesty has determined that my services are no longer necessary, I told Ermengarde.

She nodded, her eyes intent on me. The expression on her face told me that she was aware that I had been cast aside for the new woman. In addition to concern for her livelihood, though, I could also see sympathy for my situation in the way that she winced as if in pain.

Though many ladies may claim her affections, she didn’t wish to relegate me to a less-favored status, I continued, struggling for the proper words. She felt I needed my freedom. However, this does not change my need for your services. I may be a minor noblewoman, but I have the means to enjoy all the benefits that come with the rank of baroness. I am more than capable of retaining your family in my service if you wish to stay. However, if you would prefer to find other employment, I understand. The social implications of my change of status may or may not concern you, but I trust that you’ll do what is right for your family.

What I didn’t say was that I had another duty to honor, and it was one that required that I keep up certain appearances.

Ermengarde still looked sympathetic, brows furrowing momentarily. But then they lifted as if in relief. I couldn’t blame her at all.

I understand, my lady, she said. Social status does not matter at all to us. You’re a fair mistress and we have been with you for many years now. We would be pleased to remain in your employ.

With a deep breath to calm my thrumming heart, I said, Thank you, Ermengarde. I was thinking perhaps we would retire to Lowell Hall for the summer, as I can think of no pressing social obligations requiring my attention in town at this time. The thought of spending the summer at my country estate had only just entered my mind, for I had not actually considered such a thing. However, I needed to get away from the capital and the inevitable gossip about my ousting from the queen’s bed. Perhaps the fresh country air would clear my head.

All of you may keep your posts as long as you want to work for me. I would be pleased if you chose to stay. Smoothing the skirt of my lavender gown over my lap, I assumed a more businesslike demeanor. Emotions wouldn’t serve me well in this moment. Tears could wait, and shed tears I would, but not until I was behind closed doors. Now, would you be so kind as to go over tomorrow’s schedule for me?

Ermengarde nodded and began her work for the day, as efficient as ever, assured of her position in my household.

I wished I felt as confident about my place in life.

You’re seeing the dressmaker at eleven and then you’re due at the Society for tea with Lord Montaine at two.

After a moment of consideration, I said, Cancel the dressmaker. I have no need for new dresses now, particularly if I go to the country.

If I may be so bold, my lady, I suggest keeping both the appointment and your pride. Ermengarde slanted a critical glance at my frock. You have always been the height of fashion. If you try to retreat from society, it will only give them something more to gossip about this summer. Besides, most all the aristocracy will be going to the country as well to avoid the summer heat. On the off chance that you might see somebody you know from the queen’s inner circle, you’ll want to look as though nothing is wrong.

You’re right about that, I mused, reminded of why I wanted to keep Ermengarde on to manage my personal affairs. While I was not the kind of woman who could blithely sail onward as though nothing was wrong when something was vexing me, she had an excellent point. The aristocracy could be brutal when one of their own suffered ill fortune. Ermengarde was right. It was best to let them think this change in my social standing didn’t affect me, no matter how my stomach churned with the sense of utter loss in my life.

I thanked Ermengarde and rose to my feet. I had little to do with the remainder of my disappointing day, but rest and relax. With any luck, I would be able to divert myself with an entertaining book.

Answers about my possible future would have to wait until tomorrow’s two o’clock tea.

* * * *

I woke at eight o’clock the next morning and lay nestled in the pale blue sheets and blankets in my four-poster bed, pondering my new place in life. Or, rather, mourning my lack of one. The idea of retreating to the country was even more appealing in the morning light, for if I thought I would wake up feeling clear-headed and ready to take on the world, I was wrong. I wanted nothing more than to hide from the world.

For the briefest moment, I wished that such personal disappointment was as easily disposed of as a would-be assassin. While Queen Amelia and I had never been emotionally connected to one another, the societal implications of my loss of status still stung. Keltria was a country where social class and adherence to convention could make or break a person. Those of us who comprised the aristocracy had the most to lose when we didn’t play by the accepted rules of society.

With a despondent shake of my head, I rose from the bed and went to a small table to the left of it. This was the altar on which the eternal flame burned in homage to the Great Goddess, the Earth Mother. I offered up my morning prayer, which never changed. Mother Goddess, help me walk this day in wisdom and strength, in love and balance, to give as I take and be true to my Will. So mote it be.

History had it that such was the worship of the Ancients before the greed of the Patriarchy caused an ultimate war that destroyed civilization over a thousand years ago. The power of the Patriarchy had driven such Goddess worship underground, and then it was ultimately forgotten. Now the worship of any deity, especially one that was feminine, was nothing more than a fleeting thought to most people. The ideas of spirituality had simply faded with the passage of time. We were more concerned with the conveniences of gas lamps and locomotives. What now mattered most to us was the advancement of civilization through new inventions.

Another thing that seemed to have been lost to antiquity was what was known as the ancient magick. Very few people understood what it was and how it had been used, and even fewer of us wielded that incomprehensible power. I knew of nobody, other than myself and physicians, touched by the ancient magick. It was most common in the healers, who used the energies of the life-force of the earth to cure illness and mend injuries.

For me, it manifested in a different way: through the revolvers I wielded. The magick channeled through me when I was in battle, whether for practice or to kill. It allowed me to feel the life-force of my opponent. Where the power in my guns came from, I did not know. My father had bequeathed them to me upon his death. It was not something I could discuss freely in society or even among those closest to me.

In Keltria, we knew a life without the complications of spirituality or magick. Existence moved from one point to the next, as mankind evolved.

A life without complications was what I needed as well.

Throwing open my wardrobe, I pulled out the stylish gowns that had once marked my place in society. With a decision on my course of action made, I decided that I would have no need for such frivolities in my life now.

Fiona! I called, hoping she was nearby.

The maid poked her lovely, dark head into my room. Yes, my lady? At eighteen, she was still young enough to be giddy about life and love. She often romanticized my status as the queen’s mistress. Perhaps I had always been more pragmatic, since I never thought for a moment that my place in the queen’s life was anything more than a strategic necessity. Now I hoped that perhaps some of Fiona’s optimism would rub off on me as I picked up one of my favorite dresses.

We are going to make a stop before our appointment with the dressmaker, I told her, as I handed her the dress I had chosen to wear for the day. We need to clean a few things out of this closet.

Fiona assisted me into my corset, bustle, and the white and black-striped linen day dress, drawing the laces comfortably around my slender form. I reached for the dark, brown leather belt draped over the back of the armchair in the corner of my room and buckled it around my waist. It was a complex accessory, with a large brass buckle in the front, and two rows of holes for the two prongs that held it in place. It was important that I never risk losing the belt, because while it might appear a fashionable accessory to some with the decorative scrolling and touches of copper along the wide band of leather, it was one of the most vital tools in my work.

The three brass loops on either side of the buckle allowed me to secure items to the belt if necessary. Two of the loops on the right were already in use, a pair of goggles dangling from them.

However, the most important components of the belt were the two holsters, one resting against each hip to hold my revolvers. The holsters themselves were deeper than most pouches, with a small bottom compartment that held extra bullets. A sturdy buckled flap fastened over the tops of the guns to conceal their existence. Most women wore such belts, usually with patterned satchels that were interchangeable depending on the dress they wore. They made it convenient to carry feminine necessities and useful little items. I didn’t have the vanity to invest in patterned holsters. What mattered to me was not the appearance, but the utilitarian aspect of the belt.

Fiona finished getting me ready for the day by brushing my straight, auburn hair and drawing back the sides to pin the locks behind my ears. Which items are you going to discard, my lady? she asked, as she glanced over at the pile of fabric on the bed. I had dumped the contents of my entire wardrobe there, except for only a few beloved dresses and riding habits.

All of them, I answered, picking up the dainty white and black-striped top hat that matched my dress, and pinning it atop my hair at a jaunty angle. I was not sure if I felt amused or sympathetic when I saw Fiona’s mouth drop open at my intentions. Don’t worry. We are going to invest in a whole new wardrobe, and you can feel free to ensure that it conforms to all the latest, most fashionable styles.

As we gathered up the dresses, I slid a narrow-eyed glance at Fiona, who was now grinning with excitement about the prospect of overhauling my wardrobe.

Within limits, that is.

* * * *

As I left the women’s shelter, relieved of the heavy burden of dresses, I felt lighter, not just physically, but emotionally. Giving away the dresses had somehow been a conscious release of at least some of my pain, and I swung my parasol gaily over my shoulder before opening the black-and-white confection of lace and tulle that matched my day dress.

Fiona mourned the loss of the gowns, though, despite the promise of a dress-shopping excursion. She protested as we walked along the cobbled streets from the shelter to the thriving center of commerce in Keltria. I shut her complaints out, instead enjoying the lively pace of the capital.

Although I had grown up in the country in my family hom, and was planning to spend my summer there in quiet seclusion, I loved The City, as the capital of Keltria was called. The wealthy district in which I lived was home to the nobles who kept residences near the palace, the black brick sidewalks and gray cobblestone streets giving rise to black gas lamps and well-kept three-story townhomes, with oriel windows overlooking the street. In this district, elaborate carved woodwork marked the gabled roof ends, and ornate fencing of stone and wrought iron surrounded most of the properties.

As we walked into the heart of The City, we came into the thriving trade district. Those businesses that operated nearest the wealthy area of town were the ones most often frequented by nobles. However, few nobles ever ventured beyond these areas into the darker depths of town, as I was required to do on occasion. When necessary, I had gone into those shadowed alleys, closer to the slums, to the factories that propelled steam, smoke, and smog into the air, and then even further out to where locomotive tracks were being laid to connect our metropolis with other major cities on our continent.

Fiona knew nothing of these excursions, and odds were good that she would need a fainting couch and ample smelling salts to revive her if she did.

We entered a dress shop that stood on the busy corner. The white-painted building with a large window displayed the newest summer fashions. This was the most popular dress shop in The City. Any lady worth her title and status visited it at