The Masked Fae (Royal Fae of Rose Briar Woods Book 1)

by Shari L. Tapscott

  The woman is stunning.

  I knew she was beautiful in the woods, but seeing her in good lighting…

  And she looks so much like—but no. Her hair, her eyes…they’re both wrong.

  Gulping back her fears, she lifts her chin. “I have come to ask you to forgive my brother’s crimes and request you release him from the debtor’s prison.”

  “Who is your brother?” I ask with practiced indifference, glancing down to adjust the right cuff of my jacket, watching her from the corner of my vision.

  Alice pauses, looking as if she’s mustering courage once more. Her bravery ebbs and flows like a wave on the shore, retreating and then pushing forward. “Lord Gustin Gravely.”

  I turn to Regina. “Am I familiar with a man by the name of Gustin?”

  She frowns, hating it when I play my part. But another watches as well—and he is loyal to my mother. Ian Treald, Count of Chadelaine, has just wandered into the foyer. He leans against a wall, observing our exchange.

  Two more show up behind him—a pair of housemaids that are more trouble than they’re worth. They watch with feline interest, their eyes on Alice.

  My audience is hoping I will make a fool of this naïve human who dared set foot in my estate at this hour. After all, that’s what’s expected of me.

  “Yes,” Regina says to me. “He’s the man who wagered his estate in a game of cards two days ago.”

  I make a bored noise.

  “Please, my lord,” Alice says, stepping forward, her unsettling eyes begging for mercy. “I do not ask you to return our family home, but if you could find it in your heart to forgive my brother’s crimes…”

  “Your brother failed to mention the bank owned ninety percent of the property in which he offered. If I had lost, he would have been a great deal wealthier. Don’t you believe your brother should be held to the terms in which we set at the beginning of the wager?”

  Alice blinks at me. Again, she runs a nervous hand down her stomach, drawing my attention to the dirt-smudged skirt hem and the snags in the once-fine fabric.

  “Ninety percent?” she asks softly.

  “Your brother is a chronic gambler. I daresay this end was inevitable.” Unable to keep my eyes on her heartbroken ones, I look away. “There is nothing I can do.”

  I begin to turn, waving my hand at Regina to show her I’m dismissing the girl.

  “Wait!” Alice commands, making me pause.

  I look back over my shoulder and raise an eyebrow.

  “The truth is, I paint portraits,” she says in a rush. “I’m talented. I had hoped that you would allow me to paint you in exchange for Gustin’s freedom.”

  “Where are your supplies?” I ask, purposely jerking my head to the empty doorway.

  She blanches. “They were destroyed by goblins on the way here.”

  “Shame,” I say blandly. “It appears we have no business.”

  “What if…” She trails off, her face growing pale in the lamplit hall.

  “Yes?” I ask curtly.

  Alice raises her eyes to mine, making it impossible to look away. “Perhaps I may work for you, in your household, until I can afford to buy new supplies? Then I will paint your portrait, and if you are pleased with it, you may free my brother.”

  “I have no desire to do any more business with your family.” I begin walking again.

  “Please, Lord Ambrose!” Alice begs, crossing the hall swiftly, ending up in front of me, her skirts swaying with the movement. She presses her hands together, holding them in front of her heart. Her eyes shine with tears. “Please.”

  “Your brother does not deserve your sacrifice,” I say callously.

  “I am homeless now anyway, without even a copper to my name. Take pity on the innocent sister who had no part in your wager but was affected all the same.”

  Against my better judgment, I begin to waver. “And what would you do in my household?”

  Alice looks around, frantically grasping for ideas. “I’ll become a maid, or a governess if you have children who require teaching. Surely you can find a place for me in a manor this large?”

  “There are no children here.” I turn to Regina. “And I do not believe we need another maid, do we?”

  “We do not.” She says the words sternly, but I hear the strain in her voice. She stares at me, initiating a silent conversation.

  She has nowhere to go, her eyes say. Your night of careless entertainment had casualties. How will you fix it?

  No matter how I argue back, she doesn’t budge.

  “Find a place for her,” I say heavily.

  Ian raises a brow, gracing me with a calculated smile that tells me I’m showing weakness. He will be sure to tell my mother.

  Regina dips her head with an air of disinterest, pretending she has no opinion on the matter. “Yes, my lord.”

  “Thank you,” Alice breathes, looking like she’s going to burst into tears. “Truly, Lord Ambrose, I will forever be in your debt—”

  “No,” I say before she can finish the careless vow, my voice harsh. “You are not in my debt—we have not struck any sort of bargain. You are simply working in my home for a few months so you may buy new supplies. It has nothing to do with your brother. If you paint a satisfactory painting, I will buy it. With that money, you may attempt to purchase your brother’s freedom if you so choose, though the task is not as simple as you believe. You owe me nothing, and I owe nothing to you. If you decide to walk out tomorrow, so be it.”

  Alice nods, looking timid again. Softly, she murmurs, “I understand.”

  Looking smug, Ian and the maids leave the foyer, most likely eager to share their gossip.

  “I will make room for her in the servants’ quarters,” Regina says to me, already walking toward the left wing of the manor.

  “No.”

  Regina looks startled. “No?”

  The idea of sending Alice into a den of Fae—the one place in the house where I have less jurisdiction than I should—is alarming. Too often, she’d be in their company, away from my eyes.

  “Put her in the spare room on the third floor.”

  Regina’s lips part with surprise. “But that is where your sister stays when—”

  “I am not expecting Sabine to visit anytime soon.” I glance at the empty wall where Ian just loitered. “Make it known that the girl is under my protection while she is here, and no one may take advantage of her untethered nature. Spread the word. If someone so much as thinks of touching her, I will not show mercy.”

  Without looking at Alice again, I stride from the foyer, yanking at my collar, worried I’ve made a grave error in judgment.

  3

  ALICE

  I step into the room that Lord Ambrose assigned to me, and then I glance back at Regina in question.

  The housekeeper is a young woman, with a stony expression and oddly kind eyes. I’m unsure how to read her.

  “Are you certain this is the right room?” I ask.

  To say it is opulent would be an understatement, and I am no stranger to finery.

  A four-poster bed dominates the room, adorned with golden silk curtains that are tied back to each post. Half a dozen fat pillows top the coverlet, and soft rugs dot the polished wood floors. In the corner, a vanity holds a collection of crystal bottles. There are several armoires, a lacquered secretary, a full bookcase, and a plush, upholstered chaise longue is positioned in front of the fireplace. Dozens of fat, white pillar candles are placed in the hearth. Their flames flicker, but the wax is solid, still retaining its shape, making me think they haven’t been burning long.

  But it’s not the room’s beauty that troubles me. It’s the fact that it appears to be more than a simple guest room in which the marquis’s sister occasionally stays when she visits. Her touches are everywhere, from a collection of tiny figurines, to a jewelry box that is so exquisitely crafted, I itch to peek inside.

  Something tells me the Fae woman would not be fond of the idea of me nosi
ng about the place, and even less with me sleeping amongst her things.

  “This is the room Lord Ambrose specified.” Madame Regina turns to me and studies me with eyes that are not as foreign as I expect.

  I’ve never actually spoken with one of the Fae before. I’ve only seen them from afar, riding on their snowy white horses, looking too radiant to be real.

  This woman is beautiful, certainly, but she looks human—except for her ears, which are subtly pointed, as tales say they should be.

  Realizing I’m staring, I look away and massage my stiff shoulder. “It’s more than I require.”

  “You have no belongings?”

  I shake my head. “They were all destroyed with my painting supplies.”

  “Goblins,” she says with a sniff. “You’re lucky they didn’t find you.”

  It’s her curious tone that catches my attention. Nervously, I meet her eyes. She wears a knowing expression, but if she suspects I had a protector, she keeps it to herself.

  “I’m very grateful I arrived in one piece,” I say quietly, recalling the evening’s events with a shudder.

  Suddenly, I remember Mr. Anthony, and my stomach grows queasy with guilt. I haven’t thought of him again since the dark bandit swept me off my feet and deposited me rump-first in a rosebush.

  Quickly, I explain the strange disappearance to the housekeeper.

  “Do you think there is any way to find him?” I ask when I’m finished.

  She narrows her eyes, appearing to be just as confused as I am. “Disappeared, you say?”

  I nod. “He and the pair of horses. The carriage was abandoned.”

  “I’ll speak to Lord Ambrose about it.”

  “Thank you,” I say in a rush. “I cannot help but think of him out there, all alone in the woods.”

  Her expression becomes tight. “If he is alive, I very much doubt he is alone.”

  I draw in a horrified breath.

  Regina either doesn’t notice, or she’s not terribly concerned by my distress. Stepping into the hall, she says, “I’ll be back in the morning, and we’ll figure out what to do with you. For now, try to sleep.”

  She shuts the door behind her. My only company is the flickering of the candles, and even they don’t make a sound.

  I’ve never felt so alone in my life.

  I’m just drifting when a rap at the nearby window scares me half to death. I bolt upright, clutching the sheets to my chest.

  The candles still glow in the hearth, lending a cheerful ambiance to the room. I tried to blow them out when I retired, but they resisted my attempts, charmed with some wondrous Fae magic, no doubt. Their light is welcome now.

  The knock sounds again, and a whimper escapes my lips. What horrifying beast is out there? Did the goblins realize I escaped their clutches? Did they follow my trail?

  Is it something worse than goblins?

  “Alice,” I hear muttered through the glass. “Open the door.”

  Recognizing the annoyed tone, I rush for the window…and then I pause. Are there Faerie creatures who can imitate voices? With damp palms, I push back the curtain just a smidgen to peep out, keeping myself hidden just in case something dark and scary waits on the other side.

  And it is someone dark and scary—but a familiar someone. Though the bandit certainly makes a terrifying figure on the moonlit balcony, dressed in black, his face shadowed by his hat and his eyes masked, his presence fills the hollow pit in my stomach.

  I pull the drapes away from the door and unlatch the lock.

  “What are you doing?” he demands in a whisper, stalking inside the room without an invitation or a proper greeting. “Why are you still here?”

  “I told you—I’m going to save my brother.”

  He’s a tall man, taking up a good deal of the balcony doorway. I should be intimidated, but I’m not.

  “You have no supplies,” he points out. “How do you plan to barter for your brother’s freedom?”

  “Lord Ambrose has graciously allowed me to take a position here until I may buy some more.”

  “A position doing what?” He paces in front of the door. “You must not stay. Let me take you back tonight. I’ll pay for a room at Hotel Dinmont—a night for every day of the month. Surely you can convince a suitor to marry you in that time.”

  “Why would you do that?” I narrow my eyes at him, wishing I could see him better. The candlelight is too dim, and he’s cautious to use that to his advantage.

  He pauses, turning to me, his eyes shaded by the brim of his hat. “Because it’s dangerous for you to remain here.”

  I soften toward the small slice of chivalry that remains in him despite his profession.

  “Lord Ambrose was a bit harsh, but he wasn’t unkind,” I say. “I think I’ll be all right.”

  He glances at the wall, frowning as if there is something beyond it.

  “What?” I ask warily.

  “Your kind Lord Ambrose’s rooms are next to yours.”

  I gasp before I can stop myself. “Truly?”

  He tilts his head as if to make a point. “Are you sure you want to be that close to the master of the house?”

  The idea is unsettling, but I won’t be swayed. “I’m sure I’ll manage.”

  “Don’t you wonder why he’d choose to keep you so close?” he asks, sounding frustrated.

  “Do you think he means to hurt me?”

  The bandit pauses, pondering the question, and then he bites out an answer I don’t expect. “No.”

  It’s almost as if he hates admitting it but has no choice.

  “But that doesn’t mean there aren’t others in this house who would wish you harm,” he adds.

  “I’ll lock the door,” I promise. “You needn’t worry about me—I’ll be cautious.”

  He turns his back to me, looking tense. “Is there nothing I can say to persuade you to leave?”

  “I can’t think of anything.”

  “Fine.” He opens the balcony door, but I grasp his arm before he steps into the night.

  “I do have one question,” I say, looking up at him.

  He glances at my hand before he removes it with a shadowed scowl. “What?”

  “Can I eat the food here? Legend says it will dull my senses and make it so I can never leave Faerie.”

  He laughs as if delighted to be reminded. “The effect is temporary, not permanent as you’ve been told. But it is true—it’s one of the many ways the Fae trick their pets into signing their lives away.”

  “Pets?” I manage, chilled at the thought.

  “That’s right, Alice,” he says ominously. “Their human pets.”

  My mouth becomes dry, and I attempt to swallow. “You don’t think that’s what Lord Ambrose has in mind for me…do you?”

  “You’d make a lovely prize.” He crosses his arms and studies me with an air of smug victory. “Are you finally ready to let me take you home?”

  “I have no home,” I say quietly. “And now, when people watch me, their admiration has been replaced with either pity or wicked delight. I can’t return without Gustin—I cannot bear to see the looks on their faces without him by my side to take a portion of the burden.”

  “Alice—”

  “Please,” I whisper, hating how many times I’ve found myself pleading in the last few days.

  Please, don’t take my home. Please, not Grandmother’s wedding band. Please, let me use the carriage just one last time.

  I’ve never felt so small in my life. “If you know a way to avoid eating the food, tell me.”

  “I’ll return tomorrow night,” the bandit says heavily. “Do not eat or drink anything—not anything—until I see you again. Do you understand?”

  “Thank you,” I say in a rush.

  “Do not thank me,” he says sharply. He then glances back into the room as if critiquing the space. Sounding resigned, he asks, “Is it all right? Are you comfortable?”

  “It’s beautiful,” I say, but a bout of sa
dness hits me as I remember my own beautiful room. I slept in it only days ago, but it’s been torn apart now, almost all my things taken to be auctioned to contribute to the debt Gustin accrued with his idiot wager.

  “Don’t you have any family you can go to?” the bandit asks as a last effort, sounding exhausted. “Someone who will care for you?”

  My chest aches when I think of my parents—I barely remember them now. Just a few tidbits remain stored in my mind, like a painting on the wall. Mother’s warm laugh; Father’s dark mustache.

  They live with my sister and grandmother, existing only in memories. I can only hope Gustin won’t join them soon.

  “My grandmother was our guardian,” I tell him. “She passed away about a year ago.”

  “No aunts, no uncles?”

  “No one except Gustin.”

  The bandit makes a disgusted noise.

  “You’ll be back tomorrow?” I ask as he slips out the door.

  “Yes.”

  “You promise?” I persist, trying to make out his eyes behind his mask.

  “Honestly,” he mutters as if finding my company trying. “Yes, Alice, I will see you tomorrow.”

  “You said it’s dangerous for you to come this close,” I say, realizing I’ve put him in a terrible position.

  “No more dangerous than it is for you—go to sleep.”

  “What’s your name?” I ask, repeating the question I asked in the woods.

  “There is none I can give you.” And with that, he leaps from the balcony.

  I gasp, running to the rail, the forest air cold in the night. I just barely make him out as he slips into the trees that come close to the manor, and then…he’s gone.

  “You want me to water the plants?” I ask dumbly, sure I misunderstood Regina when she informed me what position I’ve been assigned. I glance outside the hall window at the estate grounds. Clouds have drifted low, and it’s rained on and off all morning.

  “Not outside.” Her voice is abrupt, but it sounds like she’s suppressing a laugh. “The plants in the conservatory.”

  Slowly, I nod.

  “I’ve summoned a dressmaker from Corrinmead,” she continues. “She will be here this afternoon.”