“You’re in fine spirits,” Miss Larson remarked as she held up Catherine’s coat for her.
“Am I?” Catherine tried to contain her smile. Her heart danced about her rib cage.
“Something good happen?” Miss Larson prompted with a cheeky smile.
She couldn’t contain herself and replied, “Lord Thornton asked me to go for a ride in his two-seater tomorrow.”
Miss Larson chuckled as she tied the ribbon of Catherine’s bonnet under her chin. “You’d think you were lovers rather than husband and wife.”
Catherine pressed a hand to her flushed cheek. Is that what they looked like? There had been brief moments like this during their courtship, but they’d been overshadowed by her desperation to marry. She didn’t have the luxury of love. It was either wed or go back to Elk Grove, and Edward had asked, so she had agreed. Was this what it felt like to be in love? It felt different than in stories.
Dressed and ready, Catherine headed out for her morning walk. Thick fog blanketed the front drive, and she couldn’t see beyond the reach of her arm. The last time she’d been in fog this thick, she thought she saw the ghost.The crunch of her boots on gravel echoed around her, and she pulled her coat tighter to her chest. Should she head back inside? A shadow darted along the periphery of her vision. Catherine did a double take. A birch tree’s branches waved in the faint breeze. Her eyes were playing tricks on her again. Nothing to be scared of. This was her fresh start. Ignore it. Pretend you don’t see.
She stuck to the road and headed toward the village instead of walking the manor grounds. A voice whispered the words. No. It had to be the wind through the trees.A hand grasped the hem of her skirt. She spun around only to find it had gotten caught on some shrubbery she’d wandered too close to. Miss Ashton’s words floated in her mind:Thornwood isn’t like other villages. Strange things happen, things beyond belief. Her arm pebbled, and she rubbed it. There was nothing to be worried about. It was village superstition like Lydia said. Nothing could hurt her if it were all in her head. A bare foot protruded from behind a stone wall. A chill crept up her spine. That couldn’t be. Cautiously, she approached. She rubbed her eyes. It must be a pale rock...
The leg attached to that foot disappeared beneath the tattered and dirt-stained skirt. A dark red stain spread out across the bodice of the lilac gown. Blood seeped from the gaping hole where her chest had been cut open. Golden hair fanned out across the gravel, and blue eyes stared sightlessly at the sky. A body. Miss Ashton.
A scream caught in her throat as Catherine stumbled backward. She covered her eyes and fell into a crouch on the ground as she rocked back and forth. She couldn’t catch her breath. She gasped for each breath as her heart beat hard enough to burst from her chest, her pulse pounded in her neck, thundered in her ears. Not real. Not real. Not real...
She couldn’t open her eyes. But when she opened her eyes, it would be gone. It would be another hallucination. She cracked open an eye. It hadn’t changed. Miss Ashton’s blood soaked into the gravel; one foot still had a shoe on, the other had cuts in the sole. When they met yesterday, she’d been wearing that dress. Catherine covered her mouth in a failed attempt to hold back the bile that clawed at the back of her throat. She crawled to the side of the road, where she expelled her breakfast.
Trembling,she checked for the third time. Nothing had changed. Miss Ashton was dead. What did she do? Should she alert a constable? She wasn’t sure she could stand up without tipping over. A hand fell on her shoulder. A scream ripped out of her, and she picked up a rock chucking it at her assailant. The killer was still here. She would be next. The ghost tried to warn her, but she hadn’t listened.
“Lady Thornton, are you hurt?” Mr. Thorn held his hands up.
Catherine backed into the shrub, the branches stabbing into her back. Her hands clawed in the dirt, searching for a weapon, anything to defend herself with. The ghost warned her. She said Mr. Thorn would take her heart. But ghosts weren’t real. And yet. Miss Ashton’s glassy eyes stared upward. She needed to run, get back to the manor. Her hand scrabbled for a rock that filled her palm. She wasn’t sure of her aim, but it was worth a shot.
He stalked closer, hands outstretched, she lobbed the rock. It sailed right past him.
“Stay back!” Catherine screeched.
He paused, brow furrowed. “You don’t have to be afraid of me. I saw you collapse...”
“Was it you?” She pointed a shaking hand toward the body on the ground. His eyes followed where her finger pointed. A part of her feared his gaze would skim right over it.But his gaze rested there, and his skin paled as his eyes widened.
“No. Not again,” he said so softly she could barely hear him.
“Can you see it?” Catherine croaked. She couldn’t tear her gaze away. This wasn’t another vision. It was real. Her empty stomach heaved, and she wretched again, but nothing came up. It was real. Miss Ashton was dead?
“The body, yes...” He shook his head, turning his gaze away from it. Miss Ashton’s body...Catherine swayed. This couldn’t be real. When all the other times it hadn’t been real, why now? She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the broken, bloody nails, the dirt smeared on her skirt. Her vision swam.
“Lady Thornton, we need to get you home.” Mr. Thorn put himself between her and the body.
He offered his hand once more to help her up. Her arms were too weak to lift. Her entire body felt light. She shook her head. Her vision blurred as Mr. Thorn said something that she couldn’t hear. She pitched forward as everything went black.
6
Ray lurched to catch Lady Thornton before her skull cracked upon on the ground. He cradled her fragile body in his arms. No matter how long he spent among them, humans continued to surprise him. One moment they were lobbing rocks at your head, the next, their emotions overwhelmed them, and they collapsed. The air reeked of blood. At first, he had thought it had been Lady Thornton’s. Until the acrid scent of aberrant magic hit him. All magic flowed from the Great Tree and brought life to both the human realm and the other realm. For that magic to be used to kill, it tainted not only the wielder but the very ground where the sacrilege had occurred.
The high courts had banned blood magics and curses centuries ago. The risks far outweighed the rewards. But the fae were greedy, and he’d heard whispers of maiden hearts and their potent magic, especially when human and fae blood mixed. His lip curled.
That ghost had the same done to her, and then her soul bound by dark magic. This girl did not seem as unfortunate as the first, but it was a troubling pattern. Thornwood had been quiet until now. Until Lady Thornton arrived and stumbled upon the gateway. It could be a coincidence, or it could be a portent of ruin. Either way, he wasn’t about to get tangled up in wicked dealings.
Lady Thornton had yet to regain consciousness, and he couldn’t just leave her lying on the side of the road. He’d deliver her to Thornwood Abbey and wash his hands of her and these murders.He lifted her up into his arms. Her head lolled like a rag doll, and he rested it against his shoulder. The feather-soft strands of her hair brushed against his cheek. The skin of her eyelids was translucent, and the blue of her veins stood out stark against her fair skin. Thick, black lashes brushed the tops of her pale cheeks.
“You’re too much trouble for me, I’m afraid, Lady Thornton,” he said as he shifted her weight to make sure he didn’t lose grip of her amidst all the layers of fabric. How human women moved about beneath such bulk was beyond him.
The fog rolled away as he headed down the road. A hazel tree’s branches sagged beneath the weight of a snowy owl. Its golden eyes watched him approach unblinking. It was much too early for her to be out hunting. He passed under the tree, and around the bend, the iron gate of Thornwood Abbey came into view. Normally he’d avoid going near it, but it was the most direct route back. And the sooner he unloaded his burden, the better.
