‘Ashley!’ I yelled. ‘No way!’
‘It’s the most logical explanation,’ she replied coolly, splitting one of her biscuits into two equal pieces. ‘Or do you have a better one?’
‘She’ll be furious,’ I said, my too-slow brain trying and failing to come up with an alternative. ‘You want Jackson to tell his grandmother he was drinking? That he, that we …? No way. I’d call you an idiot but that would be an insult to idiots.’
‘Well, actually …’
My eyes shot across the room to where Jackson had cupped his chin with his hand, one eyebrow arched as he considered her proposal.
‘I think Ashley’s right.’
‘As always,’ she said, giving a little curtsey.
‘If Lydia stayed out all night and told your grandmother she’d been drinking and hooking up, she would be sent to a nunnery,’ I said, a red rash of mortification spreading across my chest and throat. ‘She would literally never be allowed to leave the house again.’
Ashley and Jackson glanced at each other, my aunt’s expression irritated, Jackson’s bemused, before speaking in perfect unison.
‘It’s different for boys,’ they said together.
I buried my face in my hands.
‘Boys get away with more, that’s just how it is,’ Ashley said when Jackson snorted out a laugh. ‘A night of drinking and partying won’t ruin young Master Powell’s reputation, but if it was Miss Powell? That would be another matter entirely.’
‘And what about my reputation?’ I said, utterly indignant.
‘I’m sorry, did you want the town to think you were saving yourself for marriage?’
Ashley spoke to me but stared daggers at Jackson. ‘I knowit’s giving nineteenth century but the reality is, things have not changed nearly as much as we like to think they have. Besides, no one else will ever know. Jackson here will not breathe a word and I dare say Virginia Powell will be low-key thrilled. She has been praying for the two of you to get together since the first day your mamas missed their periods. I’d be surprised if she doesn’t throw a damn party to celebrate.’
‘Hate to make a habit of admitting it, but she’s right again,’ Jackson said when I looked to him for a rebuttal. ‘You want to get out of this situation with as few questions asked as possible? This is the way.’
I sank back against my pillows, staring at the two of them as they accepted the proposal on my behalf and went back to bickering over biscuits and bacon. It was scary how quickly someone could adjust to this life. He’d been attacked, almost died, and Jackson hadn’t even lost his appetite. If it wasn’t for the sound of the doorbell echoing through Bell House, I might’ve started crying.
‘I’ll get it,’ I offered before anyone else could, clambering from my bed to stagger out of the room.
The marshland on the hallway wallpaper swayed in the breeze, back to itself again. Bell House was at peace, at least. If only I could say the same. There was no time to worry about what Virginia Powell thought about my virtue or lack thereof, I needed to focus on the bigger picture. The wolf. As I stumbled downstairs, I tried to remember everything I could, how big it was, the shade of its fur, the colour of its eyes, but so much of it was a blur, the bump on my head stealing away the finer details. It probably didn’t matter too much, I thought, as my feet found the foyer floor.
But I knew I hadn’t seen the last of that wolf.
Chapter Ten
‘Lydia!’
I threw open the front door with one hand and bundled my best friend into a hug with the other, holding her as tightly as humanly possible. I couldn’t recall a time I’d ever been so happy to see anyone in my whole life.
The sentiment, however, was not returned.
‘Oh, so you are alive, good to know.’
She broke away from my hug and stomped past me into the foyer. Her furious face was makeup free and it looked like she was still wearing her pyjamas, along with a pair of baby pink Converse. Lydia had been in a rush to get over here and did not wait to be invited inside.
‘Lyd?’ I said as she poked her head in the parlour, cast a filthy look back at me, then began a purposeful march up the stairs. ‘Lydia, wait.’
‘Why? To give you time to hide my brother?’
She didn’t even stop to turn around and look at me. ‘Jackson Charles David Powell, I know you’re here, get your ass out here right now.’
Jackson Charles David Powell did not get his ass out anywhere. He didn’t get the chance. Instead, Lydia stormed into my bedroom, flinging the door open with a vindicated yell.
