Solstice at Stonewylde

by Kit Berry

  ‘But that’s not his fault really – it’s what the moongaziness does to me. He tried to make it less painful for me, but—’

  ‘Listen to yourself, Sylvie! He’s got you exactly where he wants you, eating from the palm of his hand. You are so shallow! What about poor Yul? I thought you were “in love” with him. Where’s your sense of loyalty?’

  Sylvie felt herself flushing angrily.

  ‘My sense of loyalty? Where have you been these last few months when I needed you? You’ve neglected me and ignored me, not even noticed when I was upset or frightened or badly hurt, but now you expect me to come running just because you’ve finally realised what a fool you were! You haven’t been here for me since Beltane, Mum, so don’t you dare pull that one on me now!

  Miranda stood by the window, the morning light unflattering on her puffy face, her mouth bitter. Sylvie was torn between pity and outrage.

  ‘Well if that’s how you feel, Sylvie …’

  ‘Alright then! You win – I’ll go and tell Magus you said I must have breakfast with you instead.’

  ‘No, Sylvie, only if you want to! I’m not forcing you. I thought you’d want to help me and you’d be pleased I’m ready to start picking up the pieces of my life again. I thought you hated Magus as much as we all do, but it seems I was wrong.’

  ‘No! Well … yes. I mean: I’ve got to know him better over the last few days and he’s not as horrible as I thought. He really likes me and he’s actually very good company.’

  ‘Of course he is! Why do you think I fell in love with him? I’m not a complete fool, Sylvie. You know how strong and independent I used to be and I’d never have fallen for him if he’d treated me badly from the start. Magus is charming and flattering and funny while he’s still hunting, but you wait till he’s got his claws into you! Then the charm and flattery evaporate and you realise just how cold and cruel he is inside. You saw it happen to me, Sylvie.’

  ‘I know, Mum, but—’

  ‘But you’re arrogant enough to think it’ll be different with you! You think you’re special – that you’re the one he’ll change his ways for.’

  ‘No, Mum, you’ve got it all wrong! I don’t think of him in that way, not like you and all the others do. It’s different, my relationship with him.’

  ‘Oh don’t make me laugh, Sylvie – of course it isn’t different! You’ve got a crush on him and you’re naïve enough to think he feels something for you. You’re playing with fire, Sylvie – I’ve heard all about Magus now and how he operates. You’re much, much too young for him and he’ll chew you up and spit you out just as he has all the rest.’

  ‘No he won’t! It’s not like that between us and honestly, Mum, he’s different with me. He can’t do enough for me and he watches me all the time, can’t take his eyes off me. Not that I want anything like that, of course, but he really thinks I’m unique. He said so.’

  ‘For God’s sake, girl, you’re only fifteen! What on earth do you have to interest a sophisticated man like him? And don’t say it’s your pretty face and long blond hair, please! Nubile girls are ten a penny to him and he can – and does – have any girl or woman he wants, here or anywhere else. You’re not that special!’

  ‘Oh but I am,’ said Sylvie softly, stung by her mother’s diatribe. ‘I’m the only one who can give him what he really needs because I’m the only one who’s moongazy. He’ll do anything for my gift of moon magic. To Magus I’m more special than anyone else in the world.’

  Miranda stared at her daughter, wanting very much to slap the smugness off her lovely face but knowing how bad a move it would be. Sylvie gave her a little smile, and slipped on her black suede boots. She flounced out of the sitting room, shutting the door just a fraction too hard.

  But when Sylvie tapped on the great oak door there was no reply and she didn’t like to go in without permission. Where was he? She stood by the stone arch uncertainly, unsure what to do now. She couldn’t go back to her room, not after the row with her mother, nor could she go down to the Dining Hall for breakfast. She looked down over the staircase balustrade to see if he was in the entrance hall below. She saw the gleam of blond hair and thought for a moment it was him, but it was Martin who looked up. He climbed the staircase slowly, watching Sylvie.

  ‘Were you looking for the master, miss?’ he asked deferentially, his grey eyes cold.

  ‘Yes … I thought … I was going to join him for breakfast.’

  ‘Really? Did he invite you?’

  ‘No, not exactly, but I thought … oh well, I must have misunderstood.’

  ‘Yes, miss, you must have. Magus breakfasted some time ago and then went riding.’

  ‘Oh. I see.’

  ‘I expect he’ll send for you when he wants you. He’s a busy man and he’ll let you know when he has time for you.’

  Sylvie flushed and looked down at her feet. She felt a fool. Martin gave a small smile.

  ‘Will that be all, miss?’

  His meaning was clear and she nodded, moving away from the oak door. She decided to do some work in the library, having nowhere else to go now and unsure if she was still forbidden to leave the Hall. She sat alone in the window seat in the silent room surrounded by thousands of books, bored and unmotivated now that the intense pressure to complete her coursework was off. She waited all morning for Magus to return and come looking for her. At lunch time she thought about going to the Dining Hall but again didn’t want to walk in and face the huge crowd.

  So Sylvie stayed where she was, her stomach rumbling, becoming ever more impatient and frustrated as time wore on. Why hadn’t he sent for her? After all the time they’d spent together recently and the great fuss he’d made of her, his absence felt as if he’d stood her up. Eventually she had enough of hanging around waiting for him and decided to go upstairs and see if one of the luxurious bathrooms was free. She closed the books she’d been reading and stood up, just as the door opened and Holly walked in.

  ‘Well, well, it’s Queen Sylvie herself,’ she sneered, shutting the door behind her.

  ‘Leave me alone, Holly,’ said Sylvie. The girl came over and faced her across the antique writing table, head cocked to one side. Her eyes danced with malice.

  ‘How do you do it, Sylvie?’ she asked. ‘We’re all dying to know. While Magus is away, you’ve got Yul running round after you and secret assignations under the trees in the Village Green. Then Magus comes back and suddenly you’re shut up alone in his rooms all day, and he doesn’t even come out for meals. And now we hear you’re excused from school. What’s your secret? We’d love to know.’

  ‘I’m sure you would, but knowing wouldn’t help you much, Holly. You’ve either got it or you haven’t.’

  Holly’s face twisted dangerously, her cat’s eyes narrowing.

  ‘You’re a smug little bitch and I hate you! We all hate you!’

  ‘It’s mutual.’

  ‘Now that you’re tied up with Magus, I think I’ll pay Yul a visit. Take up where we left off under the chestnut tree.’

  Sylvie shrugged, tossing her long silver hair behind her shoulders. She felt good in her svelte black outfit. Better, she could see the jealousy fizzing in Holly’s eyes and smiled.

  ‘You’ll be wasting your time, Holly, because Yul doesn’t want to know. He only kissed you because you tried to blackmail him but it won’t work again because he really can’t stand you. I’m afraid he only wants me, Holly, so bad luck.’

  ‘You wait, you cow!’ hissed Holly. ‘Once Magus gets bored of you I promise I’ll make your life a misery.’

  Sylvie laughed, heading for the door.

  ‘Well don’t hold your breath, Holly. Magus is far from bored with me. Quite the opposite in fact! It’s a pity he likes to keep me all to himself up in his rooms, else you’d be able to see just how special I am to him!’

  When Sylvie returned to her room Miranda was nowhere to be seen and she breathed a sigh of relief. Then she noticed a note from Magus on the table asking h
er to join him for dinner in his apartments at eight o’clock. She was pleased at this, but cross that she’d wasted the whole day moping about and waiting for him. She trooped off down the wing to see if the white bathroom was free.

  She lay in the marble bath a little later, her head emerging from a sea of fragrant foam and her thoughts drifted as she relaxed in the hot, silky water. She remembered how she’d brought Yul here on the eve of the Summer Solstice having rescued him from the quarry. He’d been overwhelmed by the grandeur and extravagance, poor Yul. He had no idea of the luxury of the Hall or the lifestyle here and was out of place anywhere other than the Village and his woods. It wasn’t his fault, of course, simply the way things were. Sylvie remembered how she’d once longed to live a simple life in the Village, wearing a home-spun shawl and carrying a wicker basket. She smiled at the notion and felt the hot steam bring beads of perspiration to her pink face as she luxuriated in the white marble tub.

  When Sylvie walked back into the room in her bath robe, glowing and smelling lovely, Miranda wordlessly handed her another note from Magus, just delivered by Harold. Sylvie’s heart sank thinking he was cancelling the dinner; she certainly didn’t relish the prospect of an evening with her crabby mother. But instead he asked if she’d wear the evening dress that had arrived that day. It was only then that Sylvie spotted the boxes lying on the table and hurried to rip them open, crying out with delight as she removed the tissue paper.

  Miranda sat down and picked up her knitting, pointedly ignoring Sylvie’s rapture as she examined her beautiful new things. The dress was sleeveless, a deep shimmering green made of watered silk, cut on the bias. There was a black pashmina of the finest texture imaginable, elegant high-heeled shoes and lovely underwear. Sylvie felt like Cinderella as she took the things into her room to get changed.

  Magus greeted her with a glass of amber mead. He wore a dark suit over a black shirt and looked strikingly attractive, his illness now passed but his face still hollowed and interesting. His blond hair gleamed in the candlelight, for the room was lit by many tiny flames. He smiled, kissing her cheek lightly, his black eyes glittering. Sylvie felt nervous standing in the figure-hugging dress, her neck, shoulders and arms exposed. He’d removed the pashmina as she entered the room and she felt embarrassed, unused to such a sophisticated and adult style of dress. Without the wrap she was also very conscious of the disfiguring purple bruises on her wrists and arms. Her hair fell like a curtain of silk to her waist and she felt Magus’ eyes on her, taking in every detail of her appearance. He toasted her and drank his mead in one go whilst she sipped at hers. She loved the taste of it but knew it made her dreamy and drowsy.

  A log fire blazed in the great fireplace and they went to stand by it, for Sylvie was shivering a little.

  ‘Have you had a good day?’ he asked, pouring them another glass of mead from a crystal decanter.

  ‘Yes, thank you. I worked in the library and did some research for my history coursework, for next year.’

  ‘Good. I missed you today, Sylvie. I’ve been out riding for most of the day – I needed the air and the exercise after being cooped up in here for so long. And Nightwing needed a good hard ride too. That horse forgets his manners if I neglect him for too long. But I’ve blown my cobwebs away now and reminded Nightwing of who’s the master.’

  ‘I rode a horse with Yul recently.’

  It was a silly thing to say, but she had a ridiculous urge to make him jealous. She was still annoyed that he’d abandoned her all day without letting her know.

  ‘Really?’ He seemed unperturbed. ‘I didn’t think the boy had a horse.’

  ‘He borrowed it, an enormous white one.’

  ‘You mean a grey. That would probably be Edward’s. Interesting to know he’s been helping Yul. Drink up, Sylvie – the mead will warm you. Let me pour you another one. So you shared the same horse, did you?’

  She nodded, sipping her third glass of mead and knowing she must slow down. She’d eaten nothing all day and could feel her body becoming warm and tingly already. Everything seemed a little unreal as he smiled at her, eyes bright and fathomless.

  ‘How very intimate. Was this before the moon-rise?’

  ‘Yes, we went through the woods and I felt as if we were part of a fairy tale. It was misty, and there were amazing red toadstools everywhere.’

  ‘And tell me, did you ride to the cage he kept you in? I’m intrigued by this cage and I really can’t imagine how he came by such a thing.’

  ‘We rode quite a way and then he tied the horse up in a clearing in the wood, and the cage was just a bit further on.’

  ‘A metal cage?’

  ‘No, it was made out of tree.’

  ‘A wooden cage?’

  ‘No, a tree cage.’

  ‘Of course – I know the tree cages! I used to go there as a boy and had great fun up there!’ He laughed. ‘What a clever idea … but he had to tie you up first to get you in there, I’d imagine. Is that how you were injured?’

  ‘Yes, I guess so.’

  Sylvie put the empty glass down on a small table and stood looking into the fire. She suddenly felt very weary and wondered why she was here at all. Magus again sensed the change in her mood and pulled a bell rope by the fire. Almost immediately there was a discreet buzz from the dumb waiter.

  ‘Go and sit down,’ he said, nodding towards the beautifully laid table. A great silver candelabra glowed on the snowy linen, making the cutlery and glass twinkle. He opened the panel and began to bring dishes of food over. Sylvie watched in a detached way as he looked after her every need, serving her tiny portions, fussing over the napkin on her lap, pouring her some iced water.

  ‘I don’t want you getting intoxicated,’ he said, smiling. ‘You can have some more mead later, but I think you’ve had enough for now, don’t you? And see, Sylvie, I’m not over-feeding you any more. This isn’t too much, is it? Now we’ve ordered all those new clothes you mustn’t put on any weight or nothing will fit!’

  She enjoyed the meal and felt her spirits revive as she ate. After a while she began to sparkle and laugh, teasing and joking with him. By the end of the meal she’d cast aside all her earlier misgivings but still felt slightly removed from the moment, as if somebody else were in her body. The sensation was quite pleasant. Then Magus stood and took a jewellery box from the mantelpiece.

  ‘I almost forgot – these arrived today and I thought they’d complement your dress.’

  He opened the box to reveal a necklace and bracelet of opals and diamonds. They were exquisite, gleaming and glittering in the candlelight. Sylvie gasped, unable to speak. She’d never even dreamed of owning such valuable jewels and gazed at him incredulously, round-eyed and open-mouthed.

  ‘Lift your hair up and I’ll fasten the necklace,’ he said gently, smiling at the disbelief on her face. He stood behind her as she raised the mass of hair with both hands. Very carefully he circled her neck with the jewels and closed the clasp, bending to brush the soft skin of her nape with his lips. She shuddered involuntarily and his eyes gleamed enigmatically.

  ‘Now give me your wrist, Sylvie,’ he whispered, and started to fasten the beautiful bracelet on her.

  ‘These bruises are so ugly,’ she said, looking at the livid marks on her slim white arms. ‘They spoil the effect of the dress and the jewels.’

  ‘Oh I wouldn’t agree at all,’ he murmured, kissing the inside of her wrist. He looked into her eyes, his nostrils flaring slightly as he breathed in her scent. ‘There’s something quite intriguing about such juxtaposition.’

  ‘What do you mean? You’re not saying that you like the bruises?’

  ‘I merely meant they remind me why you should be here with me, not hiding in the woods with some Village boy. Wouldn’t you agree?’

  ‘Oh Magus, don’t make me say—’

  ‘Would you really rather be outside in the cold now? Can you hear the wind? It’s horrible out there and it’s so warm and cosy in here, so intimate. Come on,
if you’ve had enough to eat, we’ll sit on the sofa by the fire and keep you warm.’

  ‘I’ve got the pashmina.’

  ‘No, don’t put that on,’ he said softly. ‘I like to see your skin.’

  They sat together on the leather sofa sipping at another glass of mead as music played softly in the background. Sylvie felt relaxed and happy, mellowed by the mead and fine meal, and very grown up. Magus knew her interests and how to impress her and he chatted easily, engaging her in the conversation and making her laugh. She felt warm and safe in the comfort of his luxurious chambers, with the great log fire burning and the soft leather of the sofa cradling her body. Gradually she curled into him as the effects of the mead and the heat overcame any last vestiges of shyness. He slid an arm around her and held her gently, careful to keep his touch very light. He looked down at the silver head on his chest and smiled to himself in satisfaction.

  ‘I enjoy your company so much, Sylvie. You’ve such an enquiring mind and you’re very well informed for someone so young.’

  She smiled, her head nestled into him. This was music to her ears after the weeks of being told how little she knew. He stroked her hair softly, enjoying the pure silkiness of it, the way it slipped and entwined itself around his fingers. Then he picked up one of her hands and ran his long fingers from the palm slowly up to the inside of her elbow and back down again, tracing the bruised skin with a touch like swansdown.

  ‘There’s one thing that puzzles me, Sylvie.’

  ‘What’s that?’ she murmured, feeling quite sleepy.

  ‘You’re such an intelligent girl. You clearly enjoy intellectual conversation and you’ve said you find me interesting.’

  ‘Mmn?’

  She was very relaxed; the touch on her arm was so subtle.

  ‘What do you find to talk about with Yul? What’s he done, or seen, or read? What does he know? He’s never left this estate – he’s barely left the Village. Never read a book, never seen a film. He must be very dull and uninformed and I’d have thought, intellectually at least, you were a million miles beyond him.’