Prologue
Mum always said, “When the lanterns were lit, any respectable woman would be tucked in bed.” But Evelyn refused to turn back, not now, not knowing how Miss Brown would gloat. She missed Mum and London, even the smell.
At least back home, there were gas lanterns to light your way if you were caught out after dark. Here in the country, nightfall cloaked her like a burial shroud, and the cavernous silence echoed with each footstep. A chill wind blew. Evelyn wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders. Each of her footfalls on the gravel crunched like the gnashing of teeth. She imagined a beast approaching her from behind, its hot breath on her neck. A dog howled, and she stumbled, teetering close to falling on her face.
A shadow darted across the road, and Evelyn’s heart slammed against her rib cage. Perhaps it would be better to go back and face Miss Brown’s mockery than risk being some monster’s supper.
“Who’s there?” A shiver ran up her spine.
Silence answered.
It was an animal. The howling had to have been an old farm dog. Evelyn looked back toward Thornwood Abbey. A few candles remained lit in the windows. Not everyone had gone to bed. Miss Brown must be waiting up to see her run back, scared. Miss Brown had warned her about the forest and how girls went missing from time to time. Evelyn had scoffed and dismissed it as simple, country folk superstition. As a girl, she used to pretend fairies would come to visit her and beg for sweets. But those were fairy tales and childish imagination.
The distant light of The Fairy Bride, the local pub, beckoned to her. A warm cider by the fire would take the bite out of her fear. And being among the working folk of the village would be a balm for the soul. An aching loneliness had settled on her since she’d arrived. She hoped the tenants and farmers were not like the posh servants back at Thornwood Abbey. They might welcome her into the community and soothe this longing for companionship. The other maids mocked her for her inexperience working in such a grand house. She’d have a drink and return before curfew. That would wipe the smug smile off Miss Brown’s face.
A frigid wind ruffled her shawl and brushed chilly fingers along her nape. Footsteps thumped on the gravel behind her. She dared not check and instead burrowed into the thick fabric of her shawl and strode forward. Yellow light spilled from behind the opaque diamond-shaped glass of the Fairy Bride. The door swung open, and local patrons tumbled out, their laughter drifting on the air. Almost there.
Someone grabbed her shoulder.
Evelyn screamed and took a swing at her assailant, eyes squeezed shut. They caught her wrist, and she pulled to escape, but they held on tight.
“Please let me go. I never did no harm to no one,” she sobbed. Her chin wobbled.
His mocking laughter shocked her like a splash of cold water. Through tear-clustered lashes, she peered up at Mr. Thorn’s smirking expression. His smile felt intimate, as if they were sharing a private joke, but she didn’t know the punchline. Evelyn had never looked at him up close before or examined his uncanny features. Mr. Thorn’s long hair bordered on obscene and framed his dark almond-shaped eyes that peered into her soul. In her twenty-one years, she had never seen a gentleman half as beautiful as Mr. Thorn, and he a gardener no less! It seemed ludicrous that someone as gorgeous as him spent his days toiling in the earth.
“Miss Smith, it’s a bit late for you to be out and about,” Mr. Thorn said.
“Mr. Thorn! You nearly scared the life outta me. I thought you were one of those terrible creatures Miss Brown warned me about.” She’d worked herself into a frenzy over nothing. Fairies and monsters weren’t real.
“There’s no need to fear. It is only me,” he said with a grin. “Since we have happened to meet, would you like to join me at The Fairy Bride for a drink?”
She pressed her hand to her lips to stifle the surprised “oh” that was threatening to spill from her lips. Mr. Thorn was a different sort of danger. Men who knew they were handsome wielded it like a sword. She knew better, of course. And had avoided him when he came around, or when the other maids tittered over him working in the gardens in nothing but his sweat-soaked undershirt...
To even consider a dalliance would be to spit in the face of Mum’s sacrifices. It had been Mum’s dream that she work in the house of a highborn lord. She couldn’t risk such a fortunate position by dallying with another member of the staff. Those types of things were what got a maid dismissed or worse with a baby in her belly and the man scarce.
On the other hand, it always took a while to make friends in a new place. The staff at Thornwood Abbey were a particularly closed-off lot. They were all born and raised in the village. When Mrs. Morgan selected Evelyn, an outsider for the coveted lady’s maid position, it hadn’t made matters any easier. She never thought she would be this lonely. Having someone to talk to would be nice. If they were in a public place, she would be safe from untoward advances.
“Miss Smith?” he prompted.
A flush burned her cheeks. “Yes, that would be lovely.”
He offered her his bent arm, and she pressed the barest tips of her fingers to the cotton sleeve. Together they went into the pub, where he ordered her a drink. They sat at a table by the fire. The cider was spiced to perfection, and when Mr. Thorn’s hand brushed against her, it set her entire body aflame. A village girl came by, batting long lashes at Mr. Thorn, but he dismissed her without taking his eyes off Evelyn. The night seemed to pass in a happy blur; one drink turned into several. And before she knew it, her head was pleasantly fuzzy.
“It’s getting late. Shall I escort you home?” he asked.
“That would be lovely.”
Mr. Thorn got up to settle the check. Whispers followed him. A few patrons remained. They crossed their arms and whispered to one another out of the corner of their mouths. The weight of their accusatory stares fell on her. Evelyn shifted in her seat. She didn’t want to get a reputation among the village as being immoral. It seemed they were no different than Thornwood Abbey. How was she going to make a life here if the who neighbors were so hostile?
Perhaps it had been a mistake to come here with him. She’d been so swept up, she hadn’t considered the consequences. If they left together, tongues would only wag further. Even if nothing happened, her reputation would be harmed. She slid out of the front door to wait for Mr. Thorn outside. She caught his eye on the way out, and he inclined his head as he smiled at her. Her heart filled with that warm glow all over again. Maybe she had misjudged him. Nothing about their interactions this evening had suggested any ill intent from him.
The cold outside did little to staunch her good cheer. Let the villagers think what they wanted. She’d done nothing wrong. Mr. Thorn had shown her kindness, unlike the rest of the stuck-up staff.
She rocked on the balls of her feet back and forth as she waited. Minutes passed, and Mr. Thorn did not join her. That village girl must have detained him. If she went back to check, it would only raise more questions. But she hated to walk home alone. Beyond the ring of yellow light from the Fairy Bride’s window, darkness loomed. The creeping sensation of being watched had not gone away.
A song drifted on the night air. It wrapped around Evelyn like an embrace. It seemed to be coming from the woods across from the inn. The Fairy Bride sat along the main road that led to the village proper. As it did in much of Thornwood, the woods enclosed the building. Vines slid through cracks in stone walls, and roots disrupted paved roads.
The song pulled at Evelyn, calling her forward.Come to us, it seemed to be saying.Dance, my child. Let your fears go.
