For goodness' sake. Enough was enough.
"My Hardcastle," I snapped, snatching my hand away from his. "My guardian's irresponsible behaviour is not my problem, and I should not be forced to pay the price for it. I have no intention of waiting meekly for his return."
The lawyer drew himself up straight, his nostrils pinched. Oh, no. Had I gone too far?
"Miss Gabriel," he began, but I cut him off.
"The correct form of address is Lady Lily," I said icily.
His eyes narrowed even further.
"Very well, Lady Lily," he said. "I find myself unimpressed by your foolish and flippant attitude. Hold your tongue. Otherwise I may choose to block your inheritance until your guardian notifies me otherwise."
I could barely disguise my gasp of horror. That would leave me almost bankrupt. Unlike my lawyer, I knew that Daniel would not be returning to put everything right. I could lose my entire fortune.
I drew in a deep breath, ready to give the idiot lawyer a piece of my mind, but Theo's warm fingers squeezed mine.
Relax, I reminded myself. Breathe.
"I do apologise for any offence I have caused, Mr Hardcastle," I said with my best smile. "I am just so keen to proceed with my marriage to Lord Amberson, and I know that Mr Montague, my guardian, would have no objections whatsoever. The two of them were friends at school, you see."
"If he wishes for you to marry while underage, he may inform me of that himself," Mr Hardcastle said, but his expression looked a little softer. I pressed on.
"It would ease Mr Montague's mind so much if he knew I was cared for by a good man - a friend of his, no less - while he was abroad. You take excellent care of my affairs, Mr Hardcastle, but I'm sure that a husband is what I really need."
He frowned. Was I overdoing the meek young woman performance?
"I admire your determination to protect me from the world's evils," I said, with a dazzling smile. "But I assure you that, between my guardian and my fiance, I am well cared for. There is no need for you to worry."
Mr Hardcastle harrumphed deep into his chest. I felt another flicker of panic, despite the brilliance of my smile, but he seemed to consider my words.
"Perhaps you are right, my lady," he said slowly.
Correct title. A promising start.
"Perhaps there is no reason at all to delay your wedding and the assumption of your inheritance. Indeed, you should not delay at all! I know that most young ladies dream of a large society wedding, but it seems quite sensible for you to marry as quickly as possible. That way, your guardian can continue his travels without the burden of worrying about your safety."
"Exactly," I said. Beside me, Theo nodded vigorously in agreement.
"I believe that Mr Montague signed all the necessary betrothal agreements before he left," Mr Hardcastle said, shuffling through his papers. "So there should be no legal impediment to the marriage."
"We plan to marry at Lily's home," Theo said. I had never heard him sound so aristocratic. "It will be a small wedding, but one appropriate to our status."
"Excellent," Mr Hardcastle said. He actually smiled.
Despite our rocky start, I left the office on Theo's arm, with my other hand clutching a signed document. It guaranteed that my full inheritance would be released to me upon my marriage to Theo, as stipulated in our betrothal contract - without Daniel's further agreement being necessary. We had won.
"We still need to decide what to do with Daniel's house," I said, once we were a little way down the street and safely out of hearing. "And Alexandra needs a funeral."
Theo eyed me sideways, as if judging my mood before he spoke.
"I suggest that we leave Daniel's house untouched for now," he said. "Perhaps he will eventually be declared missing and presumed dead. Or perhaps we will need to fake his death. But, for now, it is not an especially pressing issue."
I nodded. "You're probably right. Let's do nothing."
We walked along a little further in silence.
"I made sure that Alexandra's family were informed," Theo said at last. "Her parents' address was attached to her contract of employment as your governess."
Alexandra. The loss hit me again like a punch to the chest, and I stifled a powerful sob.
"You should have told me," I whispered. "What did you say?"
Theo ran his hands through his hair.
"I don't remember the exact words," he said. I suspected that was not quite true, but I did not push him.
"I told them it was a rabid beast," he continued. "All of London has heard about the attacks. Now that they've stopped, everyone will assume that the beast is dead."
"Will there be a funeral?" I asked.
Now Theo did look at me - a nervous flash of a glance.
"Alexandra's parents replied," he said. "They knew of her relationship with Daniel, and they disapproved very much. They would prefer not to have any further contact with your family."
I blinked back the sudden sting of tears. I'd never met these people, but their judgement still hurt. Daniel had loved Alexandra once, I was sure of it.
Still. It was not my decision to make, and I would respect their grief.
With a sigh, I tucked myself closer against Theo's arm. It was a beautiful sunny day, although the winter air was chill, and I allowed myself to feel a spark of hope. We'd enjoyed success with the lawyer. Might I soon be free of the nightmare that Daniel had created? Theo and I had the chance to build a good life together.
A sudden wave of dizziness overcame me and I stumbled on the uneven paving slabs. I fought to maintain my balance as a vision washed over me.
It was the horrible image of Theo again, so vivid I could almost reach out and touch him. He lay there, covered in blood and clearly dying. I was almost sick, but then the real Theo tightened his hold on my arm and pulled me upright.
"Lily, what's the matter?" he asked, his voice anxious.
I rested my head on his shoulder for a second, then tugged myself free. "Nothing," I said. "I just feel a little unwell. Grief, I suppose."
He nodded sadly and kissed my forehead, then turned to my carriage, parked and waiting for us. Theo took my hand and helped me up the steps. I settled onto the seat and tried to forget that I had ever seen that image at all.
"You'd better start packing," he said, sitting down beside me and slipping an arm around my waist. "It's almost time for us to leave. Beechwood is waiting."
I tried to return his smile, but the expression did not come easily.
Death and Rebirth
Theo went alone to bid farewell to the other hunters. I could not face it. I suspected that, although I had not been consulted, the three of them still planned to hunt down Daniel. For all the conflict between us, I could not bear to have them lie to my face. So I stayed away and let Theo make my farewells.
Besides, I had a visit of my own to make. I was determined to find Liliana and Gwyneth. Partly to say goodbye before I left for Beechwood, and partly to interrogate that strange, foul-tempered woman who had impersonated my deceased grandmother.
Alas, when I arrived, the inn was once again a ruin. I rubbed a hand across my tired face and questioned my own sanity. Just how many of my recent experiences had, in fact, been my imagination? Were all these strange images and events truly magical, or hallucinations brought on by exhaustion and grief? It was hard to tell.
But as I stared at the inn door, the street shifted and changed. Fog rose from the mud and slipped from under the door, swirling and thickening until it filled the alleyway. I tried to inhale, but there was no clean air left. I tasted the thick sweetness of witchfog.
Panic gripped me.
My body reacted as if I was back in Yorkshire. I froze, nothing moving but my hammering heart and heaving lungs. And then, as the first wave of panic passed, and I tried to move, a second rush of panic hit me. I really could not move. The fog had somehow locked my body into place, as if I had become a statue of myself. Even worse, the street was no longer visib
le, only utter whiteness.
Stay calm, I whispered to myself, although my lips could not shape the words. I reached inside for my own magic, letting it seep out to push the fog back. Enough space opened up around my face to let me hum gently. I did not know the song I was humming - or perhaps I did; it seemed familiar. It slipped easily from my lips, and tumbled out into the white air, where it was quickly muffled by the fog.
To my delight, the fog lifted a little with every note. But as it faded away, I realised that I was no longer in the alleyway. Instead, I stood on a soft sandy beach, beside a lake that I did not recognise. And in front of me were Liliana and Gwyneth, looking amused by my efforts - but perhaps also (or did I imagine it?) a little impressed.
"Finally," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. "I've been looking for you."
They both smiled, but said nothing. So, they were back to smug silence, were they?
"I don't care what your role is or is not," I said, throwing my hands up in frustration. "I've fixed the wolf problem all by myself, with very little thanks to you. But now I want answers."
Continued silence.
"Haven't I earned the truth?" I demanded. "Tell me who you really are, Liliana - if that's even your name. And Gwyneth, who are you? Why were you working as my maid?"
I half-expected that they would disappear without saying a word. It seemed to be their favourite trick. But, to my surprise, Liliana stepped forwards and took my hand.
"Your mother told the truth, Lily," she said. "Her mother, Liliana, was killed by Daniel. But I did not lie to you."
I let her maintain her hold on my hands as I tried to understand.
"Are you my paternal grandmother?" I hazarded.
She laughed outright at that.
"Oh, no," she said, smiling broadly for the first time I remembered. "I am your maternal grandmother, Lily. And I've been dead for twenty years."
I stared at her. Had I misunderstood?
"You're… a ghost?" I asked.
"Consider me the spirit of an ancestor," Liliana said. "It is merely a coincidence that I am so close to you in time. I am only one of many. You have never truly been alone, Lily. Not when you come from such a long line of witches. We are all your sisters in spirit."
Something about her words set me on edge and brushed against a deep-rooted sense of discomfort.
"What about the inn?" I asked, tugging my hands free. "You showed me that ownership document. Was it truly my mother's?"
"It was," Gwyneth said, drifting forwards to stand beside Liliana. In this light, there was something oddly translucent about her. "But your mother did not buy it. She inherited it. The place has been in the family for a long time."
The hairs on the back of my neck prickled to attention.
"How long?" I asked.
Gwyneth smiled. "I bought it in 1590," she said.
If there had been a chair behind me, I would have sat down hard. As it was, I stumbled a little on the sandy ground.
"You're a ghost too," I whispered. "And an old one."
Three hundred years old, give or take.
"Well guessed, Lily Gabriel," Gwyneth said, reaching out a hand to brush my forehead with a whisper-soft fingertip. Then, as I had expected earlier, they faded softly away, leaving me alone on the lake shore.
I looked around for a moment. Why this place? Was it somewhere I had visited before?
But I had no more time to investigate. The view was already fading, as reeds became wet mud, and distant hills became close-up bricks. I was back in the London alleyway.
I turned away from the inn. I had no use for it anymore. No doubt it would reappear when another young witch needed assistance. Across the small square, I caught another glimpse of that old woman watching me through the window. The golden glow of the setting sun caught the glass in a sudden flash of colour. For a moment, the woman's face was young and dazzlingly beautiful as she gazed back at me. Then she was old again and turning away to go about her business.
Shaking off the strange sight, I set off down the alleyway. It was time to say goodbye to London; the calm and comfort of Beechwood awaited me. I hailed down a hackney cab, ignoring the bright sparks of flame that danced around my fingertips.
Lily Gabriel the socialite was dead. The time had come for Lily Gabriel the witch to rise. I smiled at the first driver who pulled over. He smiled back, but I knew that he saw the sparks dancing in my eyes.
Thank you for reading!
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About the Author
Isobel Robertson lives in Yorkshire, England, on the edge of the same moors that inspired the Witchfog series.
Learn more by visiting isobelrobertson.com
or instagram.com/isobel.r.robertson
The Story Continues
Wolfdark Page 14