“Do you fear him?” Her voice is so timid she scarcely recognizes it is she who speaks.
The mood shifts instantly. Thomas pulls away just enough and chuckles. “And here I thought we were on our way to a lover’s tryst.”
“I’m in earnest,” she says. “I hear screams, Thomas. I see blood stains on his clothing. He is up to no good in that basement of his. Please, tell me. Do you fear Mr. Garrett?”
“I do,” Thomas says, squeezing her shoulder, “though it isn’t a gentlemanly thing to admit aloud. He gets a look in his eyes…” Thomas shudders. “It isn’t the foul moods that rattle me so much as the looks of glee he comes home with at times.”
Ada’s spine tinges with fear. She’s seen the same looks, the mischievous, dark secrets in his glance that make her pray he never divulges them to her. Seeing it in him is more than enough. Unwittingly, she leans in closer to Thomas.
She knows Garrett is up to something in his basement. The headlines in the news, the bloodstains…
“Then why?” Her voice breaks, and she must pause to continue. “Why do you continue working here?”
Thomas’s mouth nips upward, and his glance takes on its own version of mischief that spears heat through her. “If it’s not obvious to you, then that means I’m doing a better job of hiding it than I thought. Though you aren’t the one I’m trying to hide it from. If he ever knew…”
Ada’s mouth parts. “If Mr. Garrett ever knew what?”
Thomas swallows. “Miss Havens, if I thought it were safe, I’d have asked you to join me for a walk this very night instead of meeting here secretly.”
“But Shady Heights is a safe place, is it not? In this area of town.”
“Not with Augustus Garrett around.”
“Then leave!” Ada says too loudly. She glances around, hoping no one is below to hear. The other men have quieted down, the stove light dimmer than before.
“I can’t. Not with you so near to him.”
“Me?”
“The truth is, Miss Havens, I want you as far from that man as I can manage. Promise me you won’t be alone with him.”
“I’ve been alone with him,” she says.
“Pleasant experience, was it? Friendly fellow?”
“Thomas—”
“He’s not a good man, Ada. Miss Havens,” he quickly adds.
“I told you. You may call me Ada.”
Thomas ignores this. “And it is you who should be leaving. If it weren’t entirely improper I’d offer to take you myself.”
“I cannot leave,” she says.
“Then you are a fool if you think you owe him anything.”
“I am a fool. But I still cannot leave.”
“He will kill you, or worse, if you do not.”
She gasps. “You really think he would do that?”
Thomas rests his arm on his bent leg. “I’m merely saying you need to be careful. You may come to me, if you need to. I can’t do much, Ada. But if you ask it of me, I’ll do all I can to take you away from here.”
His sobering promise quietens her. She pauses, musing through the possible insinuations of such a declaration.
“Why?” she asks.
“What?”
“I barely know you. You barely know me. I’ve only worked here for a matter of weeks.” He can’t feel this strongly for her yet—Thomas must be hiding something, though she can’t decide what.
He picks up a piece of hay and begins fiddling with it. “You have this innocent sweetness about you. I noticed it when I accompanied you back to your home. You love books, you love life. I can tell you loved your mother. You helped me carry wood inside even though I didn’t really need the help. And you’ve offered to teach me how to read. What do I need to know how to read for?” He gives a small laugh. “It’s the little things about a person, Ada, and for some reason I’ve noticed more about you than I have of anyone else. There’s a reason for that.”
She lowers her head, truth resonating in his words. I’ve noticed more about you than I have of anyone else.
“You’ve stood out to me too, you know,” she says.
He slides in closer. “There’s a reason for that too.”
“Thomas?”
“Hmm?”
“What did you mean, hoping this was a lover’s tryst?”
Thomas chuckles. Tentatively, his hand finds its way to hers. His fingers slide gently along her skin, sending pleasant trickles along her spine.
The touch is an awareness, sparking beneath her skin. Her heart picks up speed, her breathing shallow as she takes in Thomas’s shadowed eyes in the darkened hayloft. She’s heard of this before, read of women and men doing exactly this, but experiencing it herself is an entirely different matter.
Propriety rings through her mind, but she pushes it away. She abandoned those rules the moment she agreed to work for Garrett in the first place.
Thomas’s other hand slips to her chin, tilting her face toward him. “I’d kiss you, if you’d let me.”
A force she can’t see pulls her to him. Thomas’s thumb strokes her chin, and then his other hand takes her face. Slowly, his lids lower as he brings her mouth to his.
The sweetest pressure comes from his lips, bursting along her body. They move against hers once, twice, three times, drawing her nearer with every motion. A piece of her escapes, crossing distance and time, swirling with the molecules between them before latching onto him. He connects to her as well, his mouth lingering before pulling back.
His thumbs trace her skin, and he gathers his breath, gauging her reaction. Ada clings to his arms, waiting for the world to stop spinning.
“That was…” She doesn’t finish. She isn’t sure what it was, apart from intoxicating and incredible.
A low chuckle rumbles in his throat. “Want to try it again?”
She bites her lip, securing her hands around his neck. Her fingers tuck into his soft, feathery hair, and she pulls him to her. His hands find their way around her, holding her close, and he kisses her, harder this time, more fervently, more exploratory. Ada’s heart soars, her whole body igniting being held by him.
His lips coerce hers, his hands firm and strong at her back. She weaves her hands in his hair, rising to her knees to be closer to him. Thomas rises to meet her, their chests flush with one another, their hearts pounding.
Ada pulls away, clinging to him, breathing hard. “Thomas,” she says. “Have you done this before?”
“I—no. Have you?”
“No,” she says. “But I’m glad I came.”
He grins, and the sight of it up close is even more endearing. Thomas places a final, enduring kiss on her lips, his hands stroking her back. “So am I.”
Ada returns to the stables the next night, and the next, and all the nights after that, so many that she begins losing track. Thomas’s presence is a boon to her, becoming the one thing that makes her existence on Hemlock Avenue—the cleaning and scrubbing, but mostly the increasing sly glances from Mr. Garrett that leave a heady, churning unease beneath her skin—bearable.
She looks forward to his kisses so much that sometimes they forego their usual conversation and simply sit together in the hay. Other times, however, they spend more time talking than anything else. Thomas tells her of his childhood, of his mother, father, and brothers. Ada tells him of her father’s death, then her mother’s, of her love for books and which ones are her favorites. She even brings a volume or two to read to him, trying to point out the different letters and explain how the sound of each blends to create words.
It isn’t long before the other stable hands stop hooting and catcalling every time she arrives, though this evening they seem to be more restrained than usual.
A subdued mood has overtaken even the horses in their stalls. Ada waits to ask about it until she and Thomas are alone up
in the hayloft. She settles in against the heat of him, with his warm arm around her. But he isn’t his usual relaxed, playful self.
“You are distracted tonight, Thomas,” she says, watching him play with her fingers, settling her head against his chest so she can hear his heartbeat.
“He’s almost done,” Thomas says, stroking her fingers with his. “The dreadful task he’s been after all this time, he’s almost done.”
“How do you know?”
“He told us as much. Said he’s got a meeting, says he accomplishing the impossible.”
“What is it? What is he doing?” She nearly suggests going to the police, but that was part of her bargain working here. A job in exchange for her silence.
Thomas moves away in agitation, keeping her hand in his.
“Thomas, please. Tell me.”
“It is not for a lady’s ears, Ada.”
“You mean murder.”
Thomas lowers his head, but he doesn’t deny it. “I want you to do something for me.”
“What?”
His grip tightens, crushing her fingers. “I want you to leave this place, leave this house, this town. Tonight.”
“I can’t, Thomas. I can’t.” She can’t bring herself to say it. To say how she’s come to feel for him in such a short amount of time.
“These past nights have been akin unto heaven for me, and I can’t leave knowing you’re still here.”
Thomas lifts his face, his legs brushing against hers. His rough hands slide to cradle her cheeks.
“I know how you’re feeling, and that’s exactly why I need you to go,” he says.
She shakes her head, trying to pull free. “If it’s too dangerous for me, it’s too dangerous for you.”
“Ada,” Thomas says.
She blinks, watching him, waiting for what he’ll say.
His eyes flicker down to her mouth. On an impulse, he leans in and presses his lips to hers. As usual, his mouth sparks something hidden within her, something only he can unlock. His kiss magnifies everything, the pulsing of her heart, the feel of his skin, the soft stubble along his jaw.
Ada pulls away, unable to bear it without making herself completely clear.
“I will not leave without you,” she says adamantly.
“What if I could find a way?” he asks, resting his forehead against hers, trailing his fingers down her back. “Would you come away with me?”
“Yes,” she says without hesitation.
He holds her to him. “Then I will. I will.”
eight
Ada’s mind races all that next day, wondering what Thomas will discover, wondering when their escape will happen. She pictures slipping out as she’s done the past weeks’ worth of nights, only this time, not returning to her bed but sneaking away with Thomas and some of the other servants who know what’s happening.
She drops the carrots and adds them into the pan. The smell of onions and butter swirl in her stomach, reminding her of why she came. She thinks of Redding, of the few meager coins she’s been able to save since starting here. She’d meant to use that money, to help others.
She can’t very well help others if her life is in danger.
Mr. Garrett is a despicable man. She knows something like torture is happening in the basement. She’s read the newspaper articles, pegging him as the Spare-Tooth Bandit. She’s been sick with what she knows and hasn’t been able to take to the police.
But he helped her. He gave her a roof over her head, a warm place to stay, clothing to wear, food in her stomach. Can she really just disappear?
Mr. Garrett enters the room from the adjacent basement door. He removes his bloodied apron, twisting her gut at the sight of it, and lowers his hands to wash them in the sink.
Ada’s heart takes off like a hunted fox. Thomas’s warning to never be alone with him rails through her mind, but she ignores it.
“Why did you help me, sir? That day that you gave me the money.” He scowls at her, and she hurries to make her point clear. “I am filled with gratitude for it, though it makes no sense. It was plain to you what my station was. But you showed no surprise, not even after finding out where I lived.”
He scrubs his fingers a few seconds more before answering. “I’d been ready to strike you for ramming into me, to be completely honest, Miss Havens. After that carriage nearly ran you over. But the look on your face when you turned made me think twice.”
“What look was upon my face?” Heavens, the tears she cried when that carriage ran over the laundering she was delivering. He took pity on her. He does have a heart after all.
His eyes rake over her. “The same one you have now. Yours is the type of face any expression looks well on, my dear.”
She recoils. It sinks in, slowly like a mud sliding down a riverbank during a rainstorm. It wasn’t pity.
That explains Thomas’s suspicions, and the way Mr. Garrett has been watching her lately. But really. He can’t possibly have feelings for her.
“Please don’t call me that, sir.”
“I wish to call you something far more dear.”
She faces him completely, pressing her back against the countertop for support and gripping the wooden spoon like a weapon.
He takes a step toward her. “You do owe me your life, Miss Havens. Why not share mine while you’re at it? I would give you everything I have. You would be heiress to my name and all that accompanies it in this town. I am revered and respected.”
“Only because people don’t see who you truly are,” she says without thinking.
His eyes narrow. “And what do you think of me? You who sees that true identity?”
She forces her gaze away from the basement door and from the bloodied apron. “I think you are vile, sir. You kill without a thought and expect your servants to hide it under the rug. I fear God will never forgive me for this.”
“What if I were to show you my reasoning for doing so? I don’t kill without a thought, as you suppose, Miss Havens. Truly, I have a purpose to it. These people do not die for nothing.”
She shakes her head, her heart thundering.
She grips the spoon harder, praying he doesn’t see how she trembles. “Your reasoning cannot change the fact that it is murder, sir. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I must attend to this meal before it burns.”
She tries to turn her back on him. He hooks her elbow, his grip like a clamp. “You will go when I say you will.”
Ada’s eyes capture his menacing ones. The look in them freezes her blood. “You’re hurting me.”
His lip quirks. “You speak of hurt, yet dole out your own painful words to me. And you call me thoughtless.”
She can’t believe her words can possibly have injured him. Does he expect her to tiptoe around his actions? That was never part of the agreement. And neither was marriage.
“I mean to live forever, Ada. And you can join me.”
Thomas’s words from the night before haunt her. He’s almost finished. The dreadful task he’s been working on is almost complete. Is this what he meant?
“No one can live forever,” she says cautiously.
“I’ve done my research. I’ve met a man who claims it’s possible. Terekhov is his name, and he can work wonders, Ada. He can manipulate time, he uses doors that can make it possible. Can you imagine? Never dying. Imagine living a lifetime of lifetimes.”
“One life is good enough for me, sir.” Again, she tries to wriggle free of his grasp.
“I could be good to you.” Garrett’s voice is tender in that strange way he has. The same tone he used the first time Ada met him. She sees it now for what it really is. Sadistic glee for testing what should be left alone.
She gives him a quizzical look, trying to picture it, to picture a life with him. He is handsome, after all, despite his age. But the blood on his hands
has only become hers. Each time he comes home with his black parcel, each time she reads of another murder in the papers. This Spare-Tooth Bandit can be nothing but a villain to her. And she must do whatever it takes to free herself of him.
“I don’t doubt that, sir. But it wouldn’t be right. What you do isn’t right.”
His teeth grit. His grip on her tightens so much so she winces at the pain. “It’s right if I say it is. And you’ll be my wife if I say you will.”
“So you will force me? What kind of a marriage would that be, sir? You told me when you offered me the position that you would require nothing more of me.”
He inhales as if to ease his anger. His jaw jumps. Abruptly, he releases his grip on her arm. The placement of his grip on her arm pulses.
“You’re right,” he says, checking himself. He steps back and adjusts his vest. “I will give you some time to consider it.”
“Thank you, sir.” Ada pants heavily as though from exertion though she’s done nothing more than stand. And she leaves him before he can see the tears pressing against the barrier of her constraint.
Ada dashes out to the barn and straight into Thomas’s unsuspecting arms.
“Whoa,” he says, catching her and stiffening before he finally relaxes his embrace to enfold her. “What is this?”
Ada sniffles and pulls back, her heart all kinds of sore. Fear, terror, entrapment. What has she gotten herself into? “We must leave, Thomas. Tonight, now. We must go.”
Thomas straightens his clothes and sets the brush he was using on the horses down. “Tell me what happened.”
The tears emerge anew. “You tried to warn me. I should have listened. I should never have come here.”
“What happened?”
“You know what Mr. Garrett is doing in the basement.”
Thomas blinks. Over. And over. “Ada.”
“You know. And yet you serve him here. Why? You’ve never told me.”
Thomas turns away, running a hand through his hair. “My family was surrounded by scandal a few years back,” Thomas says, patting the horse’s flanks. “I was caught with a…female friend who was confessing she was with child—not mine, of course, but the townspeople wouldn’t hear that. I lost my job. My father lost his job. No one would hire us—we almost had to move to another town. But Mr. Garrett didn’t care about scandal. He saw a boy who was willing to work hard and keep his secret. He bargains, that one. And I happened to meet the other end of the bargain.”
The Forbidden Doors Box Set Page 58