“No, they might open a gateway onto the human realm, but there’s no guarantee they’ll find you or this place.”
She exhaled. In the gardens of the human world, her clothes looked duller and sullen. As if she had been trudging through the forest and had muddied her clothes. Which would be a convenient excuse for any humans who might ask her where she had been. Time moved differently in Faery than in the human realm. What might have been a few hours for them could have been minutes or days here. There was no way of knowing for certain. Looking at the sky, it seemed it was late afternoon? On the same day? From the outside, nothing looked changed, but this old manor had changed little over his century here.
“We should get you back to the house. The humans might be wondering where you are,” Mr. Thorn said.
“Edward! He left me at the cottage. How will I explain... the wolf? Are we safe from it?”
In all the excitement, he had nearly forgotten. Who was the wolf hunting, him or Lady Thornton? It was troubling, coupled with the death of those women and Lady Thornton’s power. It could all be a coincidence, but his gut told him otherwise.
“You’ll be safe. I will protect you. I still owe you a debt remember?” He bowed with a flourish.
Her eyes widened, and then a pretty blush filled her cheeks. “That isn’t necessary; you got me out of Faery after all...” She still clung to the dagger he’d given her.
He smiled. She had more mettle than he had first thought.
“Lady Thornton, is that really you?” Mr. Rockwell shouted.
They turned as one to see his craggy face striding toward them, rake slung over his shoulder.
“I found her wandering in the forest,” Ray said. That was vague enough to cover most questions.
Mr. Rockwell quirked a brow. If only he had some energy left to glamour. “I see now, and where have you been for the last week?”
“Week?” Lady Catherine squeaked.
Catherine looked at Ray with a slightly puzzled expression. If they didn’t have an audience, he would have explained the time variance between Faery and the human realm. As it were, Mr. Rockwell was looking at them both with suspicious gazes.
“Lord Thornton has been worried sick. We should get you back inside right away,” Ray said and gestured for Lady Thornton to go with Mr. Rockwell.
She blinked at him for a moment, hurt on her expression. But he dared not over-complicate things. Not yet. There would be time later for explanations. He watched her go, a shrunken figure next to Mr. Rockwell’s bulk. If he were going to find this killer, he would need to stay close to Lady Thornton. She had to be the key.
13
Catherine pulled her knees into her chest as Miss Larson changed the filthy bathwater for the third time. Miss Larson had scrubbed her skin until it was red and dug the soil out from under her nails. She made inquiries: where had Catherine been, they’d searched the entire forest and couldn’t find even a strand of her hair. But she kept her lips pressed tight together, fearful if she spoke, the truth would come spilling out of her like the steaming water being poured from the pitcher.
A week. But for her, it had felt like nothing but mere hours. The bathwater smelled of lavender, steam haloed her head, and her fingers had started to prune.She sunk down to her nose. It still felt like a dream. But even as the grime was scrubbed from her skin, she felt the tingle of magic linger, and hidden under her pillow was the dagger Mr. Thorn had given her. The only proof of where she’d been, and yet she couldn’t share it. If she mentioned it, they would think her mad and lock her away. True or not, it didn’t change anything.
And if Faery were real, then so was Miss Ashton’s murder. Catherine sat up straight, and the water sloshed over the sides of the tub. But why did no one else believe it or notice when she was missing?
“Is there something wrong, my lady?” Miss Larson asked.
Mr. Thorn had said that she had the sight. Could that have something to do with it? If only she could talk to Mr. Thorn. But as soon as she’d arrived home, Mrs. Morgan had hurried her off to a bath, and there hadn’t been a moment she was alone since. Though it wasn’t said, Catherine got the impression that her and Lord Thorn’s simultaneous disappearance had been noted. At Elk Grove, there was a woman who had attempted to run away from her husband with a lover. When her husband caught her, he sent her to Elk Grove. Edward might have thought she’d done the same. How could she possibly explain to him where she’d been?
“My lady?” Miss Larson probed again.
Catherine blinked at Miss Larson. She’d been so absorbed in her thoughts she hadn’t tried to answer. She blushed.
“Forgive me, I was just thinking.”
Miss Larson held up a sheet. “You’re as wrinkled as my old Nan. Perhaps it’s time to get out?”
Covering herself for modesty, Catherine rose out of the bathtub and let Miss Larson wrap her in the sheet. She followed Miss Larson behind her screen, where she’d left out a shift for Catherine to slip into.She slid it on, and the silky fabric glided over her skin. Arms crossed, Catherine stepped around the screen to stand before Miss Larson, who put on her dress. And once she was dressed, she sat down, and Miss Larson ran a brush through Catherine’s wet hair. As she did, Catherine stared at her own reflection. She was pale, and there were bags under her eyes. At a glance, anyone who’d seen her would think she had been wandering lost in the forest for days. If she kept her mouth shut, none would be the wiser.
But even as she tried to soothe herself, she felt the desire to return rising up in her, like a craving for sweets or the comfort of her mother’s embrace in those lonely days in Elk Grove. She wanted to go back to Faery to feel the power and to look upon the tree again.
“I’m glad you’re safe, my lady. His lordship was just inconsolable in your absence,” Miss Larson said as her nimble fingers braided Catherine’s hair.
“I’m sorry to have troubled everyone,” Catherine said on reflex.
