The next morning a small wooden crate arrived addressed to Miss Lilybeth Hathaway.
Sir Jacob and Oliver brought it inside, and they opened it in the tiny dining room. A burlap sack sat inside, which they lifted out. Inside the burlap sack were two large, knobby roots.
“What are those?” Oliver asked wonderingly.
Pinned to the burlap sack was a note bearing a wax seal with the Overton family crest.
Lily broke the seal and read the note to herself.
Dear Miss Hathaway,
Enclosed please find two peony rhizomes. I have chosen two of my favorites, in hopes that you will enjoy them as well. The larger of the two is called Sunset Dream and blooms an incandescent coral, with bright yellow in the middle. The smaller is Sweet Surprise; its buds look nearly red, but when it blooms it softens to a bright, cheerful pink.
I do hope you like them. May the warmth of the colors remind you of my affection.
Yours most devotedly,
Theo Overton, IV
She handed the note to her father. Sir Jacob read it quickly and let out a soft breath. “Young Overton knows the way to your heart, apparently.” He frowned at her. “What did you tell him?”
Lily blushed and smiled. “I told him about the garden and how much I enjoyed working in it, and that I was excited about the peonies you promised me.”
Her father studied her. “Did you tell him I promised you three?”
“I did say you promised me some. I might have said three; I am not sure if I mentioned the number.”
Sir Jacob said, “If so, this was nicely done, to not overshadow my gift. Where will you put them?”
“May I plant them here? I was thinking of home when I spoke of peonies, but the garden here would benefit from their color.”
“Of course.” Her father sat back on his heels. “This season in the city seems far too exciting already.”
Chapter 3
The Wraith
That same afternoon, the Wraith stepped out of the veil into the indigo forests of the Fair Lands. One of his Fair allies had left a note from another ally detailing His Majesty Silverthorn’s planned schedule over the next week, and with it a dirty, tattered jacket with another note that said, “Kobold, 2 hrs.”
The Wraith smiled as he pulled the jacket around his shoulders. Every time he wore a Fair glamour, he expected it to feel like something, but there was never any sensation other than wonder. His soft brown leather boots suddenly appeared larger and more worn. His tailored dove gray jacket and trousers appeared the dirty green and brown favored by kobolds resident in this part of the Fair Lands, and his hands appeared smaller and knobbier. He propped a tiny mirror against a tree trunk and examined the glamour for any flaws, unsurprised when he found none. Although he appeared slightly taller than most kobolds, the reflection indicated that he appeared considerably shorter than his true height, and nothing in his features or clothing was recognizable as human. His eyes sparkled a bright, malevolent yellow-green, and his smile revealed sharp, crooked teeth.
He studied the schedule, then folded it carefully and slipped it and the mirror into a jacket pocket.
He stepped back into the veil and set off into the lightless tunnel.
The veil had a strange, metallic scent for several minutes, and he hurried onward, not wanting to find out what that meant. Beneath his feet, the stone floor turned to loose, dry sand, and he slowed his pace, testing each step before putting his weight on the floor. When the ground changed again to a slippery damp substance that felt like decaying leaves beneath his boots, he stopped and put his hands against the wall. It felt like warm, polished wood, the faint grain barely perceptible beneath his fingertips. He pressed his magic into it and then continued a little farther.
He opened the door just a sliver, just enough to peek out to see that he was nearly within reach of the closest child, and not far from the others.
The children were dancing on a temporary wooden dance floor a few hundred feet from a Fair dwelling, something akin to a retreat at the foothills of the mountains just north of the Fair capital. The white spires and numerous windows sparkled in the clear Fair sunlight. A short distance to the Wraith’s left, three bored Fair guards played a game of chance that involved several bones and an enormous violet crystal that glittered with something like sentience.
The Wraith studied the scene for several minutes, noting the positions of the guards and the pattern of the dance as the children circled the floor again.
He slipped through the door without being seen and left it just cracked behind him. Quicker than thought, he pulled the nearest two children off the dance floor and shoved them through the door.
The guards did not immediately notice.
The Wraith snatched up a rock and flung it at the purple crystal, which exploded in a blinding flash of violet light and an exuberant roll of thunder that made the ground shudder beneath their feet.
The Fair guards cried out in pain and dismay, covering their eyes even as they stood and drew their swords. Half-blinded, they managed a creditable formation with their backs to each other.
The Wraith had hoped something would happen when the crystal was broken, but did not expect the light to be so bright, and he, too, was half-blinded. He strained to see through the sparkling afterimage of Fair magic and grasped the hands of the last two children. He pulled them off the dance floor and into the veil before the Fair guards had recovered.
In the utter darkness of the veil, the Wraith said quietly, “Don’t be afraid, children. I’m taking you back to the human world. Can you be brave a little longer?”
Little whispers answered him, and one young voice said, “Are you the Rose?”
“The Fair Folk call me that, yes. Our own people call me the Wraith. I will answer to either.” A smile made his voice warm and reassuring. “Are you able to walk?”
He clasped the hands of the two youngest children, and said, “Hold hands, please. Everyone stay together. The darkness is only a little dangerous, and we will be out of it soon. Tell me if anything frightens you.”
They murmured agreement again.
He led them unerringly through the darkness to the door back to the human world. “Here we are. You’ll be safe here.”
Chapter 4
Fascination
Three days after Lord Radclyffe’s ball, Araminta visited Lily for morning tea. They hurried back to the little sitting room that looked over the tiny garden.
“How do you like life in the city, Lily?” Araminta inquired eagerly. “Your first ball was quite a success, I think.”
“It’s a little overwhelming, to be honest.” Lily flushed. “You’re used to this hustle and bustle, I think, but it all seems a bit much for me.”
Araminta gazed at her compassionately. “You really do like the quiet life of Haven-by-the-Sea, don’t you?”
“I do.” Lily smiled. “I know it seems quaint to you, and I suppose it is, but I love the sound of the wind across the hills and robins every morning in the garden. Before we came here, I had started taking tea out in the garden most mornings, when it wasn’t too cold or wet. The fresh air seemed like such a good way to start every day.”
“But there was no dancing,” Araminta lamented.
“Well, there were the little dances in the square.”
Araminta gave her a serious look. “Yes, but those dances are not the sort of dances at which the daughter of a knight should be hoping to find a suitable husband.”
Lily laughed. “I wasn’t looking!”
“I know. Neither was I, back then.” Araminta sighed. “It does seem so different here. That summer feels like a distant dream.”
“It feels like home,” Lily said firmly.
Araminta looked at her friend doubtfully. The two young ladies had met as children when the Hathaways had visited extended family in the Valestrian capital of Ardmond, where Araminta’s family had lived next door to Lily’s aunt and uncle. They had exchanged letters occasionally t
hroughout the years. Last summer, Araminta had visited Haven-by-the-Sea and stayed with the Hathaways for a month.
Even after that time in the secluded little town, she did not seem to fully understand how different life was in a quiet backwater on the coast. Lily had thought before that maybe Araminta simply didn’t want to think of it; she loved the busy social schedule of Ardmond, and she believed she was being kind to Lily by presuming she liked it as well. Thus pretending that Haven-by-the-Sea was more connected than it was seemed a benign social fiction.
Araminta was a sweet friend and had always been kind to Lily, despite her higher status in the intricate social hierarchy of Ardmond. Her father was the Duke of Brickelwyte, one of the smallest, least important duchies in the realm. Although the little duchy had not made her family rich, the title was notable, and Araminta had already courteously fended off several interested suitors.
She had quietly hoped for Oliver’s interest to turn her way since that first summer, when she and Lily had been little girls and Oliver the dashing elder brother, a full thirteen to Lily’s almost-eleven years.
The fact that Oliver was only a knight’s son, and had not even been able to boast that status when they had first met, had not mattered then, and it didn’t matter now, at least to Araminta. Perhaps it would have mattered to her parents, if they had perceived her interest, but only Lily had been let into her confidence. Araminta’s interest in young men was lively, but Oliver had managed, without effort or even understanding, to keep her affection for years.
Lily had to allow that Oliver was a rather charming young man, for a brother. He was tall and handsome, with rich dark hair that naturally held the waves so currently fashionable. He had a lovely voice and pleasant manners with everyone, though of course he and Lily had squabbled at times when they were younger. The few times he had danced with Araminta, they looked perfect for each other; her dark hair was near the color of his, and her berry-red lips and vivacious manner were enviable. Her brother’s magic was negligible, limited to beautiful hair that never seemed to be in disarray and an uncanny ability to keep white shirts crisp and unstained. Araminta’s interest had not been sparked by his magic, but rather his sweet smiles and easy, friendly manner when they were young.
Lily could not imagine anyone she would rather have as a sister-by-marriage, and she had wished often that Araminta would let her nudge Oliver to consider her in that light.
This morning, while Araminta was recounting her experience of the ball and telling Lily of all the fascinating conversations she had missed, a letter arrived.
Lily accepted it herself, somewhat to the footman’s horror. There really ought to be a servant to accept cards and notes. But they didn’t have the money for that at the moment, and anyway it wasn’t difficult. They did have Susie come five days a week to prepare lunch and dinner, and Lizbet to do the laundry once a week. But Susie hadn’t arrived yet, and it would be silly to leave the letter waiting outside.
At home in Haven-by-the-Sea, Jasper maintained their house and garden. The expense of a second house in the city was substantial, even if only for a season; and Lily was only now becoming aware of how her family’s circumstances were more precarious than she had previously understood. A series of unsuccessful investments and a disappointing harvest from the orchard on the estate had tipped them from frugal but comfortable to “rather concerned,” as her father had explained it to them. Nevertheless, the season in Ardmond was considered a necessity for every well-bred young lady, and after delaying it for several years, her father had brooked no argument when he decided that this was the year Lily would be seen.
“Father, there’s a letter for you,” she called up the stairs, then ran up the stairs to her father’s office.
He read it and handed it to her.
Sir Theodore Overton the Third, Bart., Lady Overton, and Theodore Overton the Fourth request the pleasure of the company of Sir Jacob Hathaway, Lady Hathaway, Mr. Oliver Hathaway, and Miss Hathaway at dinner at our estate Tuesday next at 5:00 pm. I look forward to your response.
Sir Jacob wrote a polite acceptance and gave it to Lily. “When Susie comes, ask her to have her brother deliver this tomorrow morning, if he can.” He gave her a few coins for the young messenger.
“You seem to have bewitched him, Lily.”
“I didn’t mean to.”
He smiled at her affectionately. “I am well aware of your innocence, sweet Lily. I think we’ll know more about him after this dinner.”
Lily returned to her guest. “I am sorry to keep you waiting, Minta. We’ve received an invitation to dinner, and Father wanted to write the acceptance before Susie arrives this afternoon.”
Araminta asked, “I was enjoying the beauty of your garden. Although it is small, you’ve already made it more beautiful. Might I ask who the invitation is from?”
“The Overtons.”
Araminta blinked in surprise, then smiled warmly. “You did make an impression!”
“I don’t know how.” Lily blushed.
“Well, it probably has something to do with how sweet you are.” Araminta gave a soft chuckle. “Not to mention how lovely you look when you’re slightly embarrassed about a compliment. I do think it likely you will receive more invitations, but perhaps not as many as you would otherwise. I think Theo Overton made his interest quite clear, and he is too popular for anyone to pique him intentionally. They’ll wait to see whether you like him before pursuing you openly. Though honestly I’m not sure how you could refuse him.”
Lily blinked. “He’s not jealous or mean, is he?”
Araminta shook her head. “No, he’s adored by both men and women. As silly and boyish as he seems, he’s unaccountably kind to everyone. It would be low indeed to openly vie with him for a lady’s affections, no matter how lovely you are.”
“Then is it not surprising that he has not already married? How old is he?”
“Twenty-six? Twenty-seven? I don’t know. Old enough that many ladies have set their sights on him and been disappointed.” Araminta smiled to herself. “I’ve been saved only by virtue of already having my heart set on someone else. Perhaps not a particularly wise strategy, but I live in hope.”
At breakfast the next morning, Lily pondered the question of the Fair Court’s motives. “What do you think the Fair Folk want with the children?” she asked.
“I don’t think they eat them,” said Oliver. “That’s just too horrible to imagine. I think it’s more likely related to something else going on in the Fair Court. Maybe fairies thrive on human tears, and what produces more human angst than stolen children?”
“If that were true, they would have been stealing children for centuries then, and we have no reason to believe that has happened,” Lily said thoughtfully.
“Don’t we? The rumors have persisted for generations.”
“Not in any numbers, then. What is different now?”
Oliver frowned. “And why are all the stolen children Arichtan? We have no reports of children missing from Valestria, Altavia, or Ruloth, as far as I know. I think it must have something to do with what happened between Aricht and the Fair Folk. Maybe the Arichtan government made a bad deal, and the children are paying the price for it. Or maybe the Fair Folk think Aricht has reneged on their agreement and this is the payment.”
Lily said thoughtfully, “Lord Willowvale said that the Wraith had cost his people more than I knew. I wonder what he meant by that. It was as if he meant to justify the theft of the children, but he could not without giving away more than he intended to. He said that the Wraith is an enemy of his people, and that his—Lord Willowvale’s—cause is just. I think he believed it wholly, too.”
“He is a true believer, no doubt. I think he would kill the Wraith himself with his bare hands if he could.”
“He also said that when a human has the opportunity to be of service to a fairy, it should be grateful.” Lily grimaced. “He truly believes the children ought to be honored to be so tormented and us
ed. How horrible!”
Her brother grimaced. “If there were a way to help the Wraith, I would do it.”
“I don’t know how we could. I will think on it, though.” Lily frowned thoughtfully at her tea.
“So will I.”
Only two days later, Lily cajoled Oliver into accompanying her to the palace to ask permission to visit the children’s home. The location of the children’s home had, of course, been kept in absolute secrecy, to keep the children safe from Lord Willowvale and any other Fair Folk who might bother them. Nevertheless, if the prince had established a home for them, he must know where it was.
Sir Jacob and Lady Hathaway, as well as Oliver, had told her that it was highly unlikely the prince would even see her, much less grant her request. What reason would the prince have to grant an audience to the daughter of a knight, one of the lowest of nobility, and not even a heredity title? Nevertheless, she felt bold, even a little courageous, when she and Oliver set off in a hired coach to the palace.
At the gate Oliver dutifully answered the guards’ questions, and they were let through and directed to stop at the grand front entrance.
She kept her hand on Oliver’s arm as they walked up the steps together. Already she was doubting the wisdom of this request, but she reminded herself of the children and what they had already suffered. If she and Oliver could be of service to them, they ought to be.
They knocked at the door and were greeted by a liveried servant.
“We are seeking an audience with His Royal Highness,” said Oliver.
“Why?” The man did not blink.
“I’m Oliver Hathaway, and this is my sister Miss Lilybeth Hathaway. We’ve heard that the prince has established a children’s home for the Arichtan children, and we were hoping we might be able to visit it to encourage and help them.”
The Wraith and the Rose Page 4