The Wraith and the Rose

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The Wraith and the Rose Page 14

by C. J. Brightley


  The hallway in which he found himself was empty, which was a welcome grace, but there were several Fair Folk in nearby rooms. The faint tug of humanity was difficult to identify among the myriad Fair presences throughout the building. He strode resolutely down the hall, glancing in rooms as he went.

  At last he found a door guarded by a bored-looking fairy with golden skin and hair.

  “What’s behind the door?” said Theo conversationally.

  The fairy gave him a narrow look. “None of your concern.” His scarlet eyes flicked up and down Theo’s brightly colored outfit and back to his face.

  Theo laughed coldly. “Actually it is my concern. Lord Willowvale sent me to check on them and make sure they were ready for dancing when he returns.”

  “I don’t know your face,” said the fairy.

  “I don’t know yours either. What of it?” Theo raised his eyebrows. “You’re welcome to watch if you like.”

  The fairy’s eyes narrowed. “How do I know you aren’t the Rose?”

  Theo snarled, “How do I know you’re not the Rose? Lord Willowvale will have both our heads adorning his garden gate if you don’t let me carry out my assignment.”

  The fairy grimaced. “All right. Don’t touch them. I’ll stay with you at all times.”

  Theo watched with an expression of cold satisfaction as the fairy opened the door. The group was only five of the eight children Theo knew were currently held in the manor.

  “Dance!” He snapped his fingers at one of the little girls.

  She shot to her feet and took a few tentative steps.

  “That’s enough. Now you.” Theo glared at another girl, who obeyed, trembling. “Enough.” He turned to another.

  He made each of the children take a few steps, and his tender heart twisted at his own cruelty. But now they were on their feet, and there was an alert wariness to them rather than that terrifying stupor he’d seen at first.

  “Clasp hands, all together now. We’re going upstairs.”

  “What?” exclaimed the fairy.

  “You can come, watch dog,” snapped Theo. “I need to see them together. There’s an art to the dance, you know. It needs to have a rhythm to it.”

  The fairy blinked. “Oh.” He followed them out warily, his hand never far from his sword.

  Theo led the children and their captor up the nearest stairwell and down the hall. The room that held the remaining children was clearly identifiable in that it was guarded by another fairy.

  “Well, open it up!” Theo barked.

  “Why?”

  “So Lord Willowvale doesn’t put all our heads on his garden gate as decorations,” he snarled. “He’s coming back tonight and I need to be finished by then.”

  The fairy hesitated, glancing between Theo and the fairy beside him, then opened the door. “Go in.”

  Theo swept into the room with an imperious gesture to the children to follow him. The fairies watched cautiously from just inside the doorway. Theo had each of the children stand up, then had them all line up beside the door.

  “Go stand there against the wall,” he said coldly, indicating the corridor wall opposite the room. The children hurried to obey.

  One of the fairies said, “You can’t take them out there.”

  Theo drew his sword and indicated the fairy should step back into the room the children had just vacated. “I can and I will.”

  The two fairy guards drew their swords, and Theo, by dint of both surprise and superior skill, forced the fairy back a step. He narrowly avoided being gutted by the other with a sidestep and a lightning-fast parry. He flicked the tip of his sword up to tap the fairy on the cheek with the flat side. For a split second, the fairy froze in shock, and Theo lunged forward to shove him hard, refraining from running him through. The fairy stumbled back two steps.

  Theo pulled the door closed in their faces, dropped the sword, and held the handle while he dug in his pocket with his now-free right hand.

  A scream of rage erupted from the other side of the door, and the handle jerked, nearly pulling the door back open. Theo huffed with effort as he kept it closed. He pulled a steel key from his pocket and jammed it in the lock, then shoved the last of the binding magic into the lock for good measure. The rattle abruptly ceased, though the sound of agitation and fury on the other side increased. Theo removed his hand from the handle and picked up his sword, keeping a cautious eye on the door for a moment in case the combination of steel and magic didn’t hold.

  The children had watched this play out without a sound, their eyes wide.

  Theo turned to them with a smile. “Don’t be afraid. We’re going back to the human world, where you’ll be safe.”

  One of the girls, who looked the most clear-headed of the group, said quietly, “Are you a fairy?”

  Theo raised a finger to his lips and murmured, “I’m the Rose, or the Wraith, or whatever you want to call me. Come on, then. Let’s get you home.”

  They met no other challenges before they emerged at the door where Fenton waited, trying to look inconspicuous. Just as the last child emerged from the hall, some sort of uproar began in the hall behind them. Theo closed the door and turned to the children with a smile.

  “This is a friend. He’ll take you safely to another friend, and they will take you into the veil and wait for me there. Go quickly, now. I’ll wait here for a moment to be sure they see me, and then head that way,” he said to Fenton, pointing in a different direction.

  Fenton said, “Follow me, children.” He led them away with his head held high, affecting as arrogant an attitude as he knew how. Theo waited at the door, listening to the growing commotion within as it approached the door.

  At last Fenton and the children were out of sight around a bend in the garden path. Theo waited another few seconds, then pulled the door open just as someone was about to reach the other side.

  “Hello!” He beamed at the startled fairy. “Are you looking for someone?”

  Chapter 18

  Gifts

  Lily and her mother dressed nicely, then busied themselves with chores, embroidery, and reading for most of the morning. Lily practiced on the piano; it had been weeks since she had practiced any at all, so distracted had she been by the children and thoughts of the Wraith, not to mention the whirlwind romance with Theo. She warmed up her fingers and began to practice some of the more challenging pieces she knew.

  A young lady was expected to be accomplished in many arts, and although she was not a talented painter or poet, she had acquired a little skill through practice. Music came more naturally to her, and she was quite a good pianist. She did not have the skill of a prodigy or an inclination to compose, but she enjoyed the practice. She had a good ear and a sweet, clear voice, though not particularly strong. It was reassuring to have met at least this qualification for a young aristocratic lady, and it would be wise not to let herself get too far out of practice.

  She was still playing when Susie welcomed Mrs. Collingwood into the parlor. Lady Hathaway and Lily stood to welcome the dressmaker, who curtsied deeply.

  “It is an honor,” Mrs. Collingwood murmured. She presented a sealed envelope to Lady Hathaway. “I was asked to deliver this upon my first visit.”

  The seal was a simple rose, the next best thing to anonymity. Roses had been very much in fashion ever since the Fair ambassador in Aricht had revealed that the Wraith left a slip of paper with a fairy rose on it in the place of the children he rescued. Almost every Valestrian lord, and most of those of Aricht and Ruloth, had obtained a rose seal. Noble ladies wore roses in their hair, both real and made of jewels, and rose embroidery had become all the rage.

  Lady Hathaway broke the seal and read. Then she pursed her lips and read again more slowly, debated with herself, then handed the letter to Lily, who had been trying exceptionally hard not to dance with impatience.

  While Lily read, Lady Hathaway said, “Well, then, how do we begin? Do you take measurements first, or do we talk about th
e design first?”

  Mrs. Collingwood suggested taking the measurements first and began to get out her tape measure and notebook, letting Lily read without being rushed.

  Dear Sir Jacob and Lady Hathaway,

  I beg your forgiveness for this little subterfuge. I have gathered that, due to no fault of your own, your family does not have extravagant means at the moment. I have taken the liberty of putting a deposit against an account in your name at my mother’s favorite dressmaker and my favorite clothier. Mrs. Collingwood and her staff produce women’s clothes of quality, and her brother Mr. Eccleston and his staff produce men’s clothes of quality. Please do feel free to draw upon the accounts as you wish. I have deposited eight thousand pounds initially with Mrs. Collingwood, with an additional draw of four thousand pounds without any approval required. I believe this should allow for Miss Hathaway’s wedding dress, as well as your attire for the wedding, and other dresses and items as you and Lily may desire. I have deposited the same amount with Mr. Eccleston, against which Sir Jacob and Oliver may charge their wedding and other attire. Mr. Eccleston will contact you about a week or so after this first meeting with Mrs. Collingwood.

  I entreat you not to think this charity. It is a gift to those I admire and already love, and it is intended to lift a weight from your shoulders.

  I would be much pleased if you did not tell Miss Hathaway about my involvement at all, only that she may choose the dresses she wishes, but I do understand if you choose not to engage in the morally suspect deception I have stooped to. In either case, please do not reveal it to anyone outside your family.

  Yours most humbly,

  Theodore Overton, IV

  Lily nearly choked when she reached the amount of the deposit. She read the entire letter a second time, and then carefully folded the paper and handed it back to her mother with wide eyes.

  “Lily, why don’t you and Mrs. Collingwood begin while I go speak to your father?” Lady Hathaway said with a smile.

  It was quite a long time before Lady Hathaway returned. Lily and Mrs. Collingwood had finished the measurements and Mrs. Collingwood had begun to show Lily drawings of previous dress designs. They spent the rest of the afternoon deciding on designs for Lily’s wedding dress and Lady Hathaway’s mother of the bride dress. Mrs. Collingwood also suggested several other designs appropriate for dinner parties, and, at her mother’s encouragement, Lily agreed to them.

  Mrs. Collingwood had suggested a rose theme. “It is the height of fashion, you know.”

  “Roses are certainly beautiful, but I want to choose something Mr. Overton prefers.” Lily smiled, unsure whether the dressmaker knew that Theo was the one paying for the dresses.

  “Mr. Overton prefers to be at the height of fashion. My brother makes all his clothes and has assured me that Mr. Overton will be delighted to accommodate your preferences.”

  “Well, in that case, I suppose roses would be lovely.”

  The next morning Lily woke with a flutter of excitement. In only a few hours, they would leave for the Overton estate. She dressed and breakfasted early, then began to play the piano once she was sure everyone else awake. It was something of a miracle she hadn’t been asked to demonstrate her competence yet, and she couldn’t rely on that lasting much longer. It would be horrifying to be asked to play by Sir Theodore or Lady Overton and embarrass herself and her family by seeming unpracticed.

  When everyone had dressed and breakfasted, her parents sat on the lounge chair and conversed quietly. Lily heard her name and Theo’s several times, but tried not to eavesdrop too much. She continued her newest embroidery project, a lovely floral pattern on a handkerchief which she intended to give to Lady Overton. She already finished one for Theo.

  The clock ticked away slowly on the mantel above the fireplace.

  Oliver sat quietly turning the pages of a book, as if he were not nervous at all, and this, coupled with her own nervous excitement, made Lily say suddenly, “How can you read now, Oliver?”

  He blinked at her in confusion. “Why should I not? The carriage isn’t here yet.”

  Lily stabbed at the handkerchief fiercely. “Never mind.”

  A smile dawned on Oliver’s face. “You’re nervous, aren’t you?” At Lily’s blush, he said, “Theo adores you. There’s no reason to be nervous.”

  Her mother said quietly, “I suppose it’s getting close enough to the wedding that it seems more real now, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes, I think so.” Lily’s voice shook. “Sorry, Oliver.”

  At last the carriage arrived, and Lily felt her nerves increasing. Why should she be so nervous now? Was it merely the revelation of Theo’s wealth that made her more shy than before? She certainly hoped not; she did not like to think that money was that important to her.

  It was more that the extravagance of the gift made her uncomfortable. They didn’t know each other well enough yet to justify that sort of lavish generosity. In their little parlor it had seemed abstract, but now she was to be face to face with him again.

  When they arrived, Anselm was stationed to greet them, but Theo outpaced him to help them down from the carriage.

  “Sir Jacob, Lady Hathaway, Oliver, Lilybeth.” He helped the two ladies down from the carriage and bowed to them each in turn.

  Theo showed them through the house again and out to the garden, where his parents stood to greet them.

  “I will go prepare the refreshments,” said Anselm with a slight bow to Theo.

  “Thank you, Anselm.” Theo smiled brightly at the footman before turning to the guests. “Would you like to begin with a game of croquet? I missed it last time, but I was informed Oliver was a formidable opponent.” This was said with another sparkling smile, and Lily felt herself silly for being nervous at all. He was determined to make everyone feel comfortable.

  Lily was enjoined to go first, and so she obligingly hit the purple ball toward the first wicket. To her surprise, it passed through the wicket and ended in a good position for the second some distance to the left. What followed was a hard-fought game filled with much laughter. Lady Hathaway was the surprise winner, and Theo presented her with a magnificent bouquet of peach roses.

  Theo must have selected the color specifically to be applicable to anyone who might win the game; peach roses signified sweet friendship, sincerity, and gratitude, which were all perfectly acceptable sentiments regardless of the identity of the victor. Lily gave him a sidelong look. He was more observant and thoughtful than she had thought at first, and the thought cheered her.

  “I believe the refreshments have been made ready, if you would like to walk to the pavilion,” Sir Theodore said. He offered his arm to his wife, and everyone followed him to the white tent that had been set up on a spacious brick patio.

  They enjoyed chicken salad on flakey twisted pastries, tangy cucumber salad, spicy peach jam on homemade flatbread, some sort of delicate pasta dish that tasted of lemons and herbs that Lily had never heard of, roasted asparagus with curls of expensive cheese melting over it, melons, grapes, strawberries, and blackberries. Then there were flavored ices and chilled wine, blackberry pie and whipped cream, and chocolate mousse and a sweet dessert wine. The extravagance of the menu made Lily’s heart turn over with something that felt almost like guilt. She looked at Sir Theodore, Lady Overton, and Theo and thought that perhaps it wasn’t so much guilt as being entirely out of her element.

  During dessert, Lady Overton asked to switch seats with her son. She slid gracefully into the wicker chair beside Lily and said, “Now that the wedding is drawing near, I wanted to see if you had a maidservant to bring with you, or if you would prefer that we hire someone for you.” She smiled warmly.

  Lily swallowed, feeling a little embarrassed. “I’ve never had a maidservant before, Lady Overton. I don’t know what to do with one.”

  Lady Overton’s smile softened. “The house staff already handle the cleaning, laundry, and meals, so really your maidservant would only have to help you dress, style
your hair, and other personal tasks.”

  “I’ve always done those things myself,” she said tentatively. “Perhaps I could wait a little before I decide?”

  “Of course, my dear.”

  After everyone was entirely satisfied with the refreshments, Theo suggested a stroll through the gardens before more ices and a game of darts. He offered his arm to Lily and said to Lady Hathaway, “Shall we stay within sight, or would you like to join us?”

  Lady Hathaway answered with a smile, “Please lead on. I would very much like to see more of the beautiful garden, as well as speak with your mother.”

  So Theo escorted Lily through a section of the garden which she had not yet seen. Some distance behind them, Lady Overton and Lady Hathaway walked together, chatting in low voices. Together, they provided more than enough supervision to satisfy the most zealous sense of propriety.

  “What color will you be wearing for the wedding, Lilybeth?” asked Theo.

  “Green.” She glanced up at him. “Shall I send you a fabric sample?”

  “Yes, please.” He smiled. “I will coordinate with your dress.”

  She bit her lip, then said, “My mother showed me your letter.”

  A pink flush lit his cheeks, and he looked down.

  “Thank you,” she said quietly.

  “You’re welcome,” he murmured. “I pray it did not make your parents uncomfortable. Or you.”

  His embarrassment seemed as genuine as his kindness always did, and Lily’s tender heart warmed to him.

  “There was a brief moment of discomfort,” she admitted, almost under her breath. “Then I decided that, if you were really as generous as you seemed, you wouldn’t want that. You have been so generous to me and to my family, Theo. What sort of gift would you like to receive?”

  He was silent for a moment, and she looked up to see him regarding her with those bright hazel eyes. The corners of his mouth turned up in a surprised smile, and he murmured, “Lilybeth, you have startled me. I did not think to be asked such a question.”

 

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