Heart of Thorns

by Nicolette Andrews

  Catherine swallowed past a lump in her throat. The housekeeper terrified her under normal circumstances; with the full weight of her glare upon her, Catherine had to fight the urge to squirm. "Then why did you come?"

  "I came to tell you to leave Thornwood."

  Catherine was too shocked for words.

  Mrs. Morgan continued despite Catherine's apparent shock. "You are beneath his lordship's station. You are of inferior intelligence, and now you have caused trouble for not only Lord Thornton but the staff as well by flitting off only to return in the late hours as if nothing happened. His lordship was beside himself with worry. I have never seen him so distraught. I know girls of your type, social ladder climbers. You thought you had made a great catch, but Thornwood does not accept outsiders, ever. Leave before I force you to do so."

  Catherine fell into a chair; there were tears pressing against her lids. Mrs. Morgan had spoken all of Catherine's worst fears. She never felt as if she belonged here, never felt appreciated or wanted. But I love Edward. I have my faults, but my love for him is not an illusion. A new feeling swept through Catherine; she felt as if a burning torch had been lit in her heart.

  She looked up at Mrs. Morgan, who was glowering down at her. Catherine said, "No."

  The small rebellion felt like a stone being dropped into a pool, the ripples were growing and expanding.

  Mrs. Morgan's shock was apparent; her mouth hung open. She recomposed herself enough to say, "I beg your pardon."

  Catherine stood up, her hands balled into tiny fists at her side. "I said no, Mrs. Morgan. I understand you have run this household for a very long time, but your time has passed. I am mistress of this house. You will either accept that fact, or I will have you removed from your position. Do I make myself clear?"

  Mrs. Morgan stood for a moment, her mouth opening and closing with want of something to say.

  "Since Miss Larson is indisposed, I would have you send up one of the parlor maids to help me dress."

  Mrs. Morgan clutched her keys, glared, and then through gritted teeth said, "Yes, my lady." She turned crisply on her heel and stomped out.

  When she was gone, Catherine slumped into her chair. I cannot believe I said those things. It's like I was possessed. It reminded her of that time she had said those awful things to Miss Ashton, but this time it was different. She knew what she was saying, and it felt good to speak her mind.

  Miss White came up to dress Catherine. She was a plump girl with rosy cheeks and white-blonde hair. She kept her eyes lowered and made no comment as she helped Catherine dress. Catherine still remembered Miss White and Miss Brown's harsh assessment of her from when she had first arrived at Thornwood Abbey, and she could find no motivation to make small talk. Miss White worked in near silence, which suited Catherine fine. Since Miss Larson was missing, Catherine opted for a simple style for her hair. Miss White braided Catherine's hair and then curled it into a cornet on top of her head.

  Catherine thanked Miss White for her help, and the parlor maid gave her a brief curtsy before scurrying out of the room. It will be spread through the whole house that I am demanding and overbearing. She felt the slightest twinge at being perceived as such, but she knew she had to stand her ground. Mrs. Morgan would not scare Catherine out of her own home and away from her marriage because she did not like her.

  Catherine headed downstairs to breakfast. Mr. Hobbs and the footmen were stiff as usual. They gave no hint that they had heard about her discussion with Mrs. Morgan. For now, it seemed Mrs. Morgan was keeping their chat between them. When Catherine finished eating, she went to don her outdoor coat and boots to take her walk. Then she thought of the forest, the dangerous things she knew were lurking about, and thought twice about it. She instead went to the conservatory. She had avoided it since the day she had insulted Miss Ashton, but she was done being ashamed and fearing what others thought of her. She had played with the idea of writing an apology, but she could not think of the words to say, so she had put it off and pushed it to the back of her mind.

  She brought a novel she had been reading and settled into one of the chairs beneath the bower of an exotic palm. Time moved around her as she was absorbed in her gothic mystery. Catherine did not even hear Mr. Hobbs when he came in.

  "My lady, Mrs. Rosewood has come to call. Shall I show her in?"

  Catherine set her book down on the table beside her chair. She considered refusing her guest. She was not sure if she would be good company. Edward's aunt had been kind to her during their brief acquaintance; she was one of the few people Catherine felt comfortable around at Thornwood. During that first dinner party, Mrs. Rosewood had given Catherine good advice and she seemed to have a kind heart.

  "Yes, please send her in."

  Mr. Hobbs disappeared to fetch Catherine's guest. When he returned with the petite Mrs. Rosewood in tow, Catherine stood to greet her.

  "Lady Thornton, I apologize for not coming to see you sooner. Johnathan has been under the weather, and I have just been in dire straits over it."

  "Oh. I am sorry to hear Mr. Rosewood is feeling under the weather," Catherine said, assuming Mrs. Rosewood was referring to her husband.

  She laughed. It was a rich husky sound. "I am sorry, Lady Thornton. We have only just met and I forget you have not come visiting yet. Johnathan is my pug. He was a gift from the late Mr. Rosewood."

  Catherine colored, embarrassed by her faux pas. Apparently I am not completely beyond caring what others think.

  Mrs. Rosewood touched her on the shoulder. "Do not feel embarrassed. I am sure my darling nephew has not spared enough words to explain my situation to you."

  "You are too gracious," Catherine replied. "I should have asked more about his family. I have spent time with Mrs. Oakheart, and I intended to call on you, but the timing never seemed right."

  She waved off Catherine's apology. "Please think nothing of it. You've had a lot to do with the upcoming ball."

  The ball! I have not even thought of it with everything that has happened.

  Catherine's distress must have been written on her face because Mrs. Rosewood said, "Oh dear, is there something the matter?"

  Catherine shook her head. She did not want to unload her burdens on the woman. They hardly knew one another.

  "Lady Thornton, if there's something you need, please let me help. I consider myself like a mother to dear Edward, since his mother died when he was young. And now that you are his wife, I would have you think of me in the same way. Though I am sure I could never replace your mother."

  The truth was Catherine's mother was never one for compassion or loving gestures. Mrs. Rosewood's offer was foreign to her but welcome. Her assistance was like a life preserver being thrown out to her.

  "You are very kind. In truth, I have done almost no planning. I was ill, you see, and..."

  "You disappeared yesterday afternoon," Mrs. Rosewood finished for her. Catherine had not been intending to say that, of course, she was actually trying to concoct an innocent lie. Mrs. Rosewood shrugged her shoulders. "Gossip travels fast in a small village. Let us sit down and talk a while."

  Catherine motioned to a pair of chairs nearby. "I should call for tea; would you like some?"

  "Yes, thank you," Mrs. Rosewood said with a smile. She was very pretty when she smiled. Catherine admired her. She had small slender hands and dainty feet. Though both she and Mrs. Rosewood were petite women, Mrs. Rosewood seemed to carry more weight to her presence. She looked important. She had a small hat tilted to one side on her head in a bruised plum color. It matched her gown, which had a full skirt and bustle.

  Catherine rang for tea before sitting down to talk with Mrs. Rosewood. She felt small and insignificant in her green day gown and plain hair. Mr. Hobbs was there in short order. Catherine told him what they wanted, and he disappeared with a stiff bow. Catherine watched him go, wishing she could make the staff like her.

  "The locals are slow to accept outsiders," Mrs. Rosewood said.

  Cather
ine was shocked once again by the older woman's perceptiveness; it was almost as if she were reading her mind. Maybe Catherine was just easy to read.

  "I think in my case, they believe I am some sort of ladder climber," she paraphrased Mrs. Morgan's words without naming her. The insult still stung.

  Mrs. Rosewood nodded. "Yes, they called Grace the same."

  "You mean, Edward's mother, the former Lady Thornton?"

  She smiled. "The same."

  Mr. Hobbs returned with the tea cart. He set out the saucers and the sugar server.

  "Anything else, my lady?" he said in his rumbling baritone.

  "Thank you, Mr. Hobbs, that will be all."

  He gave her a bow and exited.

  "Grace looked a bit like you," Mrs. Rosewood said before taking a sip of her tea. She set the cup and saucer down on the table between them. Catherine found herself enthralled by the elegance of her movements. She was so precise. This is what it means to be a lady. If I am to stay, then I need to learn to be like her.

  "You said she passed when Edward was young?" It seemed an indelicate topic, but she was desperate to learn more about her husband.

  "She died when Edward was ten years old. It was reported as a riding accident. She loved to ride, and she had no fear of the woods as all the villagers and old families do."

  Catherine's heart constricted. They were skirting along a dangerous topic. In Catherine's experience the residents of Thornwood either ignored the possibility that there could be creatures living in the woods or were ridiculed for being insane for believing.

  She took the plunge and said, "You do not believe that her death was an accident?"

  Mrs. Rosewood turned to face Catherine fully. "Before I answer that, let me ask you a question in turn. When you went missing yesterday, where was it that you went?"

  Catherine considered her answer before speaking. Say the wrong thing and she might tell Edward, who would have her committed. Catherine sighed. She had opened this Pandora's box, and it was up to her to deal with what lay inside.

  "I was in the forest, a man was poisoned, and I was treating his ailment." It sounded ridiculous even to her.

  "And you did not think to call for the doctor?" Mrs. Rosewood asked, not unkindly.

  Catherine looked down, ashamed. "I did try, but he insisted that I did not fetch Dr. Rowan. He was adamant about that."

  "Was this man Mr. Thorn?"

  Catherine's head shot up. Perhaps she could read minds. "It was. How do you know these things?"

  Mrs. Rosewood sighed. "Lady Thornton, I know because I was there when Grace was found. She was left at the edge of the forest with her heart cut out."

  Catherine reeled back. It was a shocking proclamation and closely echoed the one Col. Hawthorn had made previously.

  "What are you trying to say?"

  "That what killed Grace was not being thrown from a horse but Those Who Dwell in the Thorns. They cut out women's hearts for sport. But first they seduce them. It would be simple for them to lure them into the woods once, but that is not enough for them. They trick women with their handsome looks and acts; then they bring them to their woodland dances. That's where they take out their hearts during a Thorn Dwellers' Moon--a full moon."

  Catherine pressed her hand over her heart. Had Mr. Thorn deceived her? Was this all part of some elaborate charade?

  "How do you know that is true? I've heard the rumors, but never had any proof." She felt compelled to defend herself for some strange reason. A part of her did not want to believe she had been tricked.

  "Grace confided in me that she had taken a lover. She was restless here. She was used to the city, the string of parties and social calls. My brother, Edmund, was not enough for her. She never told me the man's name, but I spied on her once and saw her in the arms of one of the gardeners."

  Catherine listened with rapt attention. This story echoed her life to the point that it could not be coincidence.

  "I should have told Edmund about Grace, but I thought she would move on. It's my greatest regret."

  Catherine reached over and patted Mrs. Rosewood's hand. She gave Catherine a half smile in return.

  "I thought that was the last of him until I noticed Edward had gotten a new gardener. He looked just like Grace's lover. At first I thought it must be coincidence. And then the deaths started again, first your lady's maid and then the farmers."

  "My lady's maid, Miss Larson?"

  She shook her head. "The first one, Miss Smith, she was only here a short time. Edward had sent word ahead before you arrived; she was hired from London and was waiting for you to arrive. The night you came to Thornwood was the last we saw her; she was seen at the pub, The Fairy Bride, with Mr. Thorn."

  Catherine covered her mouth with her hand. "What happened to her?"

  "She was found without a heart, though they tried to cover it up, claiming she had pneumonia."

  Catherine felt as if a rock had settled in her stomach.

  "I knew I had to warn you. He has returned to steal more hearts, and I fear it's yours he's after next."

  Chapter Twenty

  Ray had been sequestered to the forest edge like some kind of chastised dog. He had tipped his hand too soon in fighting Lord Thornton, and he had ruined his disguise. Lord Thornton had seen his true face. Though this snag in his plans was inconvenient, he would still watch Lady Thornton. All his plans hinged on her. He waited in the forest, sitting on the bent branch of a tree he favored. Lady Thornton had deviated from her usual routine. She had not taken a walk today. Did her time in the forest scare her away? He hoped not. Time was running short. The full moon was only a few nights away. He had to get her to participate in the dance. It was the second-to-last test, before the final and crucial test. So many others had failed at that point or just thereafter. There have been so many of them I have nearly lost count.

  He fiddled with his flute and worried about his future. He had not been summoned by the council to report, and that could be a good or bad thing. The small folk were nearby watching. They had been hounding him as of late. They would not approach, not while he maintained his full strength, but they were hovering like vultures waiting for the hammer to fall. She is not coming today, he thought. He jumped down from his perch. Then he saw a dark smudge against the white of the fog that shrouded the grounds.

  He smiled to himself. I underestimated her. She could not stay away after all. He made his way to the gateway. Lady Thornton was dressed for the cold, bundled up in a coat and hat. She had gloves on her petite hands, which were crossed over her chest as she tried to keep warm.

  She went to the edge of the pathway that came closest to the woods and stopped there. She looked back and forth, most likely waiting for him. It was a pleasant surprise indeed that she had come searching for him.

  He slid behind her and removed the cloaking he had used to keep him from sight. "Why, Lady Thornton, to what do I owe the pleasure?" he drawled.

  She did not jump as he expected but turned slowly to face him. "Don't tease me, Mr. Thorn. You know why I am here." She motioned towards the forest. It was a monumental thing for her to even acknowledge that something had happened between them. He was nearly knocked to the ground by surprise.

  He looped his thumbs into the waistband of his pants and leaned back on his heels. He felt a faint pull of attraction to her still, but it was fading. Whatever spell she'd had on her had dissipated. He gave her his most charming smile as he said, "Lady Thornton, I haven't the slightest idea what you mean." It was cruel, but he wanted to hear it from her lips. He wanted her to acknowledge their kiss for his own perverse reasons.

  "I know what you are, and I want you to stay away from me," she said directly.

  His smile slipped, but he held it as to not give away his utter shock. This was not the conversation he had imagined.

  "If you know, then tell me, unless you're running away from the real matter here," he said with a raised eyebrow. She was not making this easy. He enjoyed the chase,
though, so this was more fun.

  She met his gaze. He had never really studied her face before now. She had a small round face, bow lips and large dark eyes. I can see the mark of Fae in her eyes, but the rest is too human.

  "I am not running," she said. "I am trying to protect what is mine. I know you are a Thorn Dweller. I also know you killed those women and took out their hearts."

  Now this was news to him. The string of dead women who had followed in his wake, in his search for the right candidate, had been perplexing. Ultimately it did not matter. They had failed the tests and therefore were of no more use to him.

  He raised a brow but made no further comment. He wanted to see where she went with this and if she could lead him to the real culprit.

  "Do not pretend to deny it. I have witnesses," Lady Thornton said.

  "Do you now?" He smiled. Surely the person who had fed her these lies was her 'witness'.

  She kept looking at him with a defiant tilt of her head. "Yes. If you do not wish for me to expose you, then you will listen to my request."

  "I would love to hear it."

  She beckoned him to come closer with a waggle of her finger. He thought about it for a moment, decided there was no harm in it, and leaned in. She caressed his face, tracing her fingers over his cheekbones and down to his lips. Then she whispered into his ear, "I want you to remove the love spell on Edward."

  "Pardon me?" Mr. Thorn said with a playful lilt. How does she know about that? Then it struck him. "You're not Lady Thornton."

  She smiled a wicked smile, one that looked out of place on Lady Thornton's innocent face. "I thought you would never realize. You're getting slow, Mr. Thorn." She laughed.

  She sauntered around him, swaying her hips back and forth. She kept Lady Thornton's form, just to taunt him. She knew the attraction spell still had a mild hold on him. Her power had grown substantially since last they had met. She had not had this transformation ability before.

  "I thought we agreed to stay away from one another," he said to the witch.

  "We did until you started meddling with what is mine." She ran her hand along his chest. He closed his eyes and suppressed the groan of pleasure. The slight pressure of her hand evoked so many memories.