Dirt and water soaked my skirt, digging into my knees, as I flickered to the lilies I left on the stone, the irony of their meaning not lost on me.
I’d planned to leave this summer to travel, to carve out my own path in the world, in spite of Mama’s protests. I had everything packed when the storm broke, and in a few short days, my dreams died. Trampled into the ground as our family’s legacy was on the brink of collapse with the debt and my illness.
Once my chest felt lighter and all the words trapped within were spilled to dead, I lapsed into silence, listening to crows cawing in the distance.
“Those were quite the words for a dead man. You really didn’t hold anything back at all.” I snapped my head up to see the stranger from the other day.
He was wearing the trench coat, the brim of the hat lifted enough to see a playful grin cross full lips.
I stood, dusting my hands against my dress. “You heard all of that, yet you are bold enough to approach. Ever heard of privacy when grieving.”
The man gestured outwards to the empty cemetery, a silvery band glittering softly against his finger. “There’s no one around, and I was out taking a stroll when I spotted a beauty among the headstones.”
“Flattery will only get you so far.” I strayed a glance to the path behind him, heat rising to my cheeks.
It’d be troublesome if someone were to catch me talking with a man alone. Yet a part of me wished it to happen to make getting out of my impending circumstance a little easier than running.
Though I simply sighed and prepared to depart. “Pretend you didn’t see me. It would be hard to suppress a rumor that I was caught unchaperoned in a cemetery, and I don’t want to explain why I was here alone.”
“And whydidyou choose to come to a cemetery alone at this hour?” he asked, brows knitted together. A few strands of hair fell loose from a ponytail draped over his shoulder and shifted as he cocked his head. “I can’t imagine it was for the company.”
A murder of crows cawed at us from a moss-covered angel statue. Their beady eyes trained on us as they squawked with amusement—as if they were laughing.
“It’s not something I want to discuss with a stranger. After all, you chose to take a stroll in such a somber place, and I chose to yell at a dead man. Perhaps these are mysteries neither of us shall know of the other.”
“Yet you chose to come alone without a chaperone in sight, a little dangerous to do as a young lady. I could easily snatch you up and whisk you away withoutanyone to know your whereabouts,” he pointed out to anyone with a reasonable mind.
Yet I was not reasonable, not since my life had become theirs, with the likelihood of me lying next to Father by winter.
“Please.” I leveled my tone, suppressing the urge to speak my intrusive thoughts. “You wouldn’t be having a conversation with me if that’s what you intended to do, much less declare your intentions. I could very well scream, and someonewillcome running.”
The stranger shook his head, a small laugh reverberating in his throat, its velvety warmth out of place for a cemetery. “You are so different from what I had expected.”
I stilled, heart thundering in my chest. “I assume you were expecting a grieving mess, unable to string a sentence together without wailing.”
The grin faded, the stranger’s face falling into a somber expression. “I lost someone long ago, too, so I know how hard it can be to... adjust to their absence.” The stranger touched the brim of his hat, dragging it down over his eyes.
The unsettling appearance made me think it was a new fashion trend or a new cosmetic surgery to account for his strange appearance. Theories ran in my head. Perhaps a botched surgery was why he hid underneath a coat and hat.
“Sometimes, I come here as well to stalk along the gravestones to not feel so alone.” The man stepped closer, towering at least a foot over me.
His broad frame could easily swallow me whole. If I were to die here rather than my slow-crawling fate, perhaps it’ll ease Mama and give her some pity points with the ton once the scandal is revealed. Idle thoughts like these often pass through my head, which was why I came here of all places. It appeared only the dead could listen to my despair.
Despite all of this, I wasn’t afraid when he took my hand, to be out in the open with someone who was not my betrothed. Although he was not my intended, the small comfort warmed my chilled body as a new strange feeling took hold.
I clutched my chilled fingers to my chest, muttering, “I fear I must be going.”
The stranger stepped aside, the motion rustling the tense air between us. “I won’t hold you up more than I already have.”
I walked down the path, my heels against the stone my only companion, as the early morning sun rose higher, dispelling the last bit of the cool air. Only when I reached the wrought-iron cemetery gates did I glance behind me to find the stranger had disappeared.
Three
According to local gossip, William Sharpe was the most eligible bachelor in the city of Endovier. He spent most of his years courting young, fresh women, only to leave them heartbroken within days of meeting—a playboy if you will. So much so that his mama had to place him on the marriage mart to redeem the Sharpe name.
I wiped my hands on the dress I’d been outfitted, a lamb to the slaughter with a pretty bow. I wore a gaudy pale rose dress with minimum details in the skirt and the bodice.
While the maids dressed me this morning, I avoided the mirror. My outfit covered up the fact I was nothing more than skin and bones touting health in its blush-pink fabric.
