“But he doesn’t have to live out here! He has a house in Linzen. Who would choose the wilds over civilization?”
Lord Nicholas Huxley. And Sadie Winsel.
Sadie didn’t reply, though, for the answer was obvious. They walked a few minutes longer in silence. Abigail started at every twig breaking or chittering of a squirrel.
“Do you actually know where you are going?” she demanded, her voice shrill with genuine fear. “Are you trying to get me lost in the woods?”
“Abigail.” Sadie didn’t like her, and didn’t appreciate that she jumped to the worst conclusions, but she could understand not reacting well when afraid. “I’m walking right next to you. If Itried to get you lost, I’d have to get lost myself, too. I promise, I know where I’m going. But we can turn around if you don’t want to see the spring anymore.”
“How are you so calm?” Abigail demanded. She shivered. “Can’t you sense how evil the spirits are here? They don’t want us in the woods.”
All right, there was maybe something a little sinister about the woods today, a coolness that couldn’t be accounted for solely by the shade of the trees, a sense of being watched. But Sadie was not about to run back to the manor gibbering about spirits haunting the place. The difference between today and her last trip inside the forest was her companion. Abigail’s superstitions were simply making her look at things differently.
Sadie turned around. “I guess we’d better head back then.”
Abigail walked a little faster once they had turned, pulling ahead of Sadie on the path. There was no chance she’d get lost. They’d followed the main path the entire way, and the only branching led to a path so minor there was no way to confuse it with the main one. Sadie let her take the lead.
Her position a pace behind gave her the perfect view when the large spider dropped from an overhanging branch directly onto Abigail’s head. Sadie sucked in a breath, startled, and a little freaked out by the creature, honestly. She wasn’t afraid of spiders, necessarily, but she didn’t like them and this one was… all right, it was a little scary.
Need to get inside.
The thought washed over her, more focused than Abigail’s earlier worries about leaving the forest. She must have reached the point where she had to focus on that goal in order not to panic. Sadie didn’t understand. Even with the forest feeling a little darker than it had during her walk with Nicholas, it wasn’t that bad.
Then the flow of Abigail’s thoughts cut off. They were locked behind a mental barrier Sadie could push through, but wouldn’t. Abigail rarely contained her thoughts that way. It wasn’t intentional now, but a sign that she had turned her focus inward.
This would be the worst possible moment for Sadie to point out the spider. Just reminding Abigail that she wasn’t alone might startle her, let alone mentioning a creepy crawly nesting in her hair.
Sadie almost wanted to speak up just to see the reaction. But one woman running from the woods to the manor screaming was enough for the week.
She should probably say something before they entered the manor, though. Or try and discreetly knock it off without Abigail noticing. Sadie shuddered at the thought.
They neared the edge of the forest, and she knew she had to make a decision soon. Then Abigail reached a hand up toward her head. Sadie tensed.
Abigail held her hand close to her hair, directly next to the spider, as if she already knew it was there. The spider scurried over her blond hair and onto her palm. Abigail casually lowered her hand, flicked the spider into the trees, and stepped out of the forest.
Sadie stopped, gaping. She wasn’t one to assume all women were afraid of insects and spiders, but she admitted she had assumed Abigail was. The woman couldn’t even stand being in the forest for a quarter of an hour.
Well, it hardly mattered. The spider was gone, Abigail was safely back at the manor, and Sadie could finally take the time for herself that she needed. She turned away from the house. The forest no longer had that extra shiver of menace. She must have only imagined the chill and deeper shadows because of the influence of Abigail’s thoughts. Now that she was alone in her mind, it was once more an inviting haven of solitude.
Fifteen
???
Nicholas answered aquestion from Jane about an ingredient she needed for a potion and tried not to let his impatience show. She was so earnest, looking at him with near reverence, that it would be extra cruel to let her see how little he cared.
But he didn’t care about dried herbs. He cared about Sadie, who had escaped the sitting room the moment his mother declared her the winner of the game. He needed to talk to her. Privately, before supper.
He was done running from his attraction to her. If he had to spend the rest of the month with a houseful of women, then he would, by the spirits, at least spend as much of that time as possible with the woman who made him laugh. Who challenged him and treated him like a person, not a goal or a duty, or—in Jane’s case—a knight in shining armor.
The woman he’d kissed and wanted to kiss again. It didn’t have to mean anything more than that. She knew the score. One month, and one month only. Actually, only three more weeks at this point.
Then he’d have his solitude once more.
He told Jane he’d see to getting the ingredient she wanted, let her profuse thanks wash over him, and pleaded with the spirits not to let anyone else—especially his mother—come up to talk to him next.
The spirits took pity on him. He was able to leave the sitting room without further delays moments after Jane. Since she’d be heading to the brewing room, Nicholas knew exactly where to look for Sadie.
He strode out of the manor and into the forest. He hadn’t truly lied when he put the spring down as his favorite place in Marstede. Depending on his mood, the spring or his engraving workroom were equally likely to be his preferred spot at any given time. And since his walk with Sadie? Well, the spring was both a frustrating reminder and a delightful memory.
