Cannot seem to escape the wretched female, no matter how hard I try.
‘So she has.’
‘Haven’t been up to the house but once since she arrived—’bout a week or so after she had. Everyone was in a right state, particularly Mr Brown—not that he said a word against her. Quite an enterprising sort, she seemed. Ambitious and determined. A rather pleasant, strange sort. But, well...’
Bradley let the words hang, along with their unspoken meaning.But, well, just what Thornhallow needs.
Et tu, Bradley?
‘How are things going up there?’
‘Well enough. She’s won them all over with her brazen treachery,’ Liam said begrudgingly, but with a hint of amusement and admiration. ‘From what I can tell she’s moving through the house like a whirlwind, intent on polishing every last door handle before the spring. Then, I suppose the gardens will be next.’
Liam wondered briefly if she would be able to revive his mother’s work as she was reviving the house. The others had done well enough with the bones of the rose and wildflower gardens his mother had created, but for a brief moment he smiled at the thought that Mrs Hardwicke’s witchcraft might restore them to the Eden he remembered.
Not that I will be here to see it if she does...
‘I have to admit,’ he sighed, the bitterness of that thought surprising him. ‘I had no idea... I didn’t mean for things to become so... Well, in any case, she’s saved me a lot of trouble. So I must be thankful, I suppose.’
‘Aye, I’m glad she’s working out, then. Can’t believe she’s won over Mr Brown,’ Bradley laughed. ‘He’s a tough one, but match enough for him, she is. Good for her.’
‘Aye, match enough indeed.’
For any man or monster.
‘Mrs Ffoulkes as well—mad old bat. Apparently your Mrs Hardwicke has been up to see her once a week, checking on her, bringing her treats...’
‘I have not been to visit her yet, I have been remiss,’ Liam said, wondering if the widow of his father’s gatekeeper had changed at all.
Mrs Ffoulkes had been given a small allowance and a cottage on the estate when her husband had passed away—one of the few selfless and generous acts his father had ever done.
But from the first time Liam had set eyes on her, and thought her a witch dwelling in the woods, to the last, a year or so before he’d left Thornhallow, Mrs Ffoulkes had not gained a single new wrinkle.
He wondered if that would still be true.
‘I should do so before long, though I doubt I could live up to whatever lofty sainthood she has seen fit to bestow upon Mrs Hardwicke.’
With complicit smiles, they continued on, discussing Liam’s plans and the best ways to enact them.
Soon enough I will be free. Everything will be as it should, you will see, Hal.
As Liam parted with Bradley later that afternoon, and made his way back to the stables, he wondered if she would have understood his decision. Or if she, too, would have chastised him, as she had often been wont to do, no matter that he had been her elder, her keeper, her adviser. She had always been the wisest, the kindest—the heart of Thornhallow.
And now that you are gone, sister mine, it beats no longer. I doubt it ever will again.
Rebecca awoke with a start, dread and panic churning in the pit of her stomach. She stared into the darkness, her mind attempting to make sense of her sudden awakening through the foggy mess of the remnants of her dream. Breathing deeply, she tried to think back on it. It had been pleasant enough, nothing extraordinary, at least not that she could recall.
Whereas the nightmares...
The nightmares, when her prince finally caught her after all these years, when she could not run fast enough... Those were impossible to forget.
She ran her hand over her forehead and cheeks. No sweat. No temperature. Nothing abnormal.
Definitely not a nightmare, then.
And yet her heart pounded, and the awful feeling in her stomach hadn’t lessened.
Then she heard it.
