His comment elicited a melodic, genuine laugh from the witch—not at all like the feigned giggles that the more vapid young women of society preferred to emit around eligible gentlemen. Of course, to Odira, Mr. Keene was not a large trout to be landed; whatever her feelings towards him, he was a wonderful man in his own right and would not be stuffed and placed upon her mantelpiece. Stuffed with food, perhaps, if his sister forced him to spend too much time in society, but that much was, at least, to be expected.

“Perhaps sending your sister to act as a spy of sorts might buy you some time?” Odira suggested. “That is, bid her to go out into society and pick up new and inventive hosting tips to employ on your—that is, on the hospital’s behalf,” she corrected herself quickly, smiling apologetically at the slip. Though she had met the healer’s sister, it was only a passing acquaintance; such a relationship, however, was more than enough to reassure the witch that Mr. Keene’s sister relished the opportunity to force the reclusive hospital director to be less…reclusive.

“It is entirely a self-serving suggestion, though, for I should feel very much obliged to rescue you at any such functions to come, even if only for a few moments.”

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