“Thank you for your concern,” Catherine said with a polite bob of her head. “I am going out for my morning exercise.”
“Yes, mistress.” Mrs. Moira headed for the double doors at the back of the dining room.
Catherine dressed in her coat and went out into the garden. As with most days, she headed for the path that bordered the garden and looked upon the wild woods beyond. For several weeks, she had stood at the precipice and feared going further. She had seen no indication of Mr. Thorn since Edward had died, and she had begun to feel as if she were living inside a bad dream.
The branches nearby rustled, and Catherine startled as a barn owl flew past her and landed on the branch nearby. She placed a hand over her rapidly beating heart.
“Tabitha! Where have you been? I have not seen you in an age!” Catherine exclaimed.
The owl did not reply other than to hoot softly, tilt its head, and blink its large yellow eyes at her.
“I am such a fool. Owls do not talk. Perhaps I have gone mad with grief.” She felt deflated.
“I thought you had stopped rationalizing away what you know to be the truth.”
Catherine spun in place and saw Mr. Thorn leaning against the tree in which the barn owl sat. It was childish, but her heart leapt when she saw him, finally proof that she had not imagined it all. Then she thought of Edward lying in his own blood, and she shrank back from approaching Mr. Thorn, the man who had killed her husband.
She nearly turned to walk away, but he grabbed her wrist and forced her to face him.
“You cannot run away forever, Mrs. Thornton. It will not bring him back.”
“I am aware, Mr. Thorn,” she snapped and pulled her arm free. She folded her arms over her chest and regarded the ground. She did owe him an apology. “I apologize for what I said that day. You did what you thought you had to to save the king.”
“True, but I did not intend to hurt you, Mrs. Thornton, or for Edward to perish like he did.”
Tears stung her eyes, but she held them back. She had done enough weeping for a lifetime. “If you have said all you must.” She tried to walk away, but his words stopped her.
“Lady Bastien is not gone. She has left Thornwood, to be certain, but she is going to come back. She will not rest until she gets her revenge.”
“I am sure you are capable of handling her when she does,” Catherine said though she doubted her own words.
He shook his head, and Catherine felt her stomach sink as the reality of their situation sank in. “However, you are capable of helping. That day in the forest, you awoke the king, if only for a moment. That light, it was not of my doing or of yours. He stirred and banished her. He sleeps still, but I think you can awaken him, even if you are not his daughter.”
“Please,” Catherine held up her hand, “do not waste your efforts upon me because I will not hear any argument to assist you in this further.”
“Of course.” He bowed. “At the least will you do me one last favor?”
She thought of refusing him outright but decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. “Allow Tabitha and myself to stay in your service. I ask nothing in return but only to continue to serve you.”
She glanced at the owl, who swiveled her head back and forth as she returned her gaze with large liquid eyes. Catherine could not help but ask, “Why? Why me?”
“Because you are the steward. With Edward’s passing, it falls to you. You are to protect the forest gateway, as he should have done.”
“I have no power. How can I protect anything?”
“You could learn, and I could teach you.” He drew closer, and that familiar sparkle lit his eyes.
She wanted to deny him, to turn away and run. Then she thought of Edward, of Henrietta, Miss Smith, Colonel Hart and countless others who had perished because she had been too powerless to help.
She fidgeted and looked up to Tabitha, who regarded her from her branch perch. She would be a fool to accept his offer, yet she felt compelled to keep them, if only to have someone who understood her around. However, knowing Mr. Thorn, he may well cause a scandal in her household, and after finally gaining the servants’ trust, she could not risk it. Therefore she concocted a compromise. “I will allow it, but first you must answer me truthfully and make me a promise.”
“I can agree to those terms.”
She was startled by his willingness to accede. She proceeded, though, with less confidence than before; somehow she felt as if she had lost the upper hand. “Before he—” she hesitated, “died, Edward that is, he became the same monster that attacked us. Was he one of them from the start?”
Mr. Thorn shook his head. “Isabelle specializes in corrupting magic. She warped him and created that monster out of his jealousy and confusion for his feelings for you.”
The truth was more painful than she imagined, and she closed her eyes and took a moment to recollect herself. Now was not the time nor the place to break down.
“And your request?” Mr. Thorn said with a teasing lilt of his tone.
“If you are to stay in my household, I would need you to foreswear yourself upon being a gentleman at all times. I am your employer and you my servant, nothing untoward or seemingly untoward shall occur between us.”
He smirked as he said, “If my lady wishes it, so it shall be done.”
Afterword
Thank you for reading this novella. The continuation of Catherine’s story should be released late 2013 in Lace and Thorns. You can find more information an updates at my website or via Twitter, Facebook or Goodreads. Send me a message, I would love to hear from you. You can also read my other full length Novel: Diviner’s Prophecy for Free on Amazon, Barnes and Noble and other book sellers. Or even leave me a review on your favourite book seller website, that just makes my day.
Other Works by the Author:
Diviner’s Trilogy
Diviner’s Prophecy (Book 1)
Diviner’s Curse (Book 2)
In the Household of a Sorcerer (A diviner’s trilogy short story.)
Thorn Manor Series
Those Who Dwell in the Thorns
Lace and Thorns (Coming soon)
Table of Contents
Foreword
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Those Who Dwell in the Thorns Page 14