Those Who Dwell in the Thorns

by Nicolette Andrews

He raised a brow but made no further comment. Catherine, however, had the impression that he saw through her flimsy lies.

  “I did not come here to be lectured. I have a request to make of you,” Catherine said.

  “Do you now?” He smiled and crossed his arms over his chest.

  Catherine fidgeted and stared at her feet. A clump of weeds lay there, and she nudged them with her shoe.

  “I want you to remove the spell on Edward,” she said just above a whisper. She still lacked the ability to command others.

  “Pardon me?” Mr. Thorn said with a playful lilt.

  She took a deep breath and looked up and met Mr. Thorn’s dark eyes. “I want you to remove the love spell you put on Edward. He is a good man, and if he does not love me for me, then I think he deserves to be with the woman he truly loves.” She thought of Miss Jones and all the awful things she had said.

  Mr. Thorn studied her for a moment before saying, “I am sorry, Mrs. Thornton. I cannot.”

  Catherine deflated but did not give up. If she knew anything about Mr. Thorn, it was that he was a master of deception.

  “How can you not? You put the spell on him; surely you can undo it?”

  He shook his head, and the pearl drop in his ear swung as he did so. “It’s not that simple. My powers are limited; the spell I used was borrowed magic.”

  “Then the person you borrowed the magic from must be able to undo the spell.”

  Mr. Thorn did not answer her, and his silence concerned her. He looked past her, and he furrowed his brow.

  “Whose magic did you borrow?” she asked, concerned by his reaction. Was it forbidden to borrow magic, or even something she might be punished for?

  Mr. Thorn walked past her and out the garden gate, and for a moment, she thought he would run from her, as she had done so many times before. He went a few paces before looking up to a tree where a black bird watched them with black beady eyes.

  He bowed to the bird, and it tilted its head and screeched. Catherine thought of her strange encounter on the road. Could this bird be another like Tabitha?

  Catherine came to stand beside Mr. Thorn and looked up at the black bird. It watched them without moving, and the stillness of the animal cause an uneasy chill to creep up Catherine’s spine.

  “An acquaintance of yours?” she asked, hoping it was merely another forest inhabitant.

  “I fear not,” he said without turning to regard her. He stared at the bird as he continued. “It’s no longer safe to speak here.”

  Catherine rubbed her hands over the gooseflesh that rose on her skin. The fog rolled in and blanketed the grounds.

  “You haven’t answered my questions,” Catherine said, being uncharacteristically mulish.

  “I apologize, Mrs. Thornton, but perhaps it would be best if you head back inside.”

  She looked between Mr. Thorn and the bird and wondered where this tension had come from. But because she was not one to argue, she did as he requested. Before she slipped away, he grabbed her hand.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll arrange a meeting. I’ll send Tabitha with a message, but I think we should see less of each other in public for a while, lest anyone get suspicious.”

  She stared at him with furrowed brows. “You speak in riddles. You promised to explain, yet you get more mysterious the more I learn.”

  “A common problem among the fae, I fear.”

  He pulled her close, and she could feel his breath stirring the hairs on her forehead. She tilted her head back to look him in the eye. She thought of their kiss and blushed to think something so untoward had occurred between them, even if it was necessary to extract the poison. He had never even explained who had poisoned her, if he knew at all. Or so he said. How much did she know about this man, really? Their intimacy was terribly improper, and she would be mortified to be caught this way by one of the servants.

  He leaned in to whisper in her ear, “Until we meet again.”

  Catherine colored and then pulled away. She hurried into the house without looking over her shoulder once, though she wanted to very badly.

  After Catherine had disappeared around the corner, he turned to the black bird, who continued to regard him without moving.

  “Your ladyship would be best served to leave the girl. I will not give her up so easily.”

  The black bird squawked in protest, and Mr. Thorn shook his head as if he had expected that reaction.

  “I will only say this once: if you threaten her, our truce ends.”

  The black bird flapped its wings and shook the branch on which it was perched, sending leaves raining down upon Mr. Thorn, before taking flight and leaving him staring up after it with a frown creasing his brow.

  Colonel Hart’s body was found along the main road. Edward stood by as his father’s friend was lifted up onto the hearse carriage with a white sheet over him, on his way to the undertaker.

  Dr. McCrae came over to Edward, shaking his head. “If I told him once, I told him a hundred or more times, too much excitement would only strain his heart.”

  Edward shook his head in a numb daze. The afternoon leading up to the discovery of Colonel Hart’s body collapsed on the side of the road seemed a blur. He could not even clearly recall why he had been out walking at this time of day.

  “You think the walk is what caused the heart attack?” Edward said. His ingrained manners seemed to take over as his mind whirled.

  “Hard to say, but I believe so. Such a shame.”

  Edward looked down at his hands covered in blood, Colonel Hart’s blood. His clothes, everything had been covered in blood. He had come to consciousness covered in it, and Colonel Hart had been beneath him, hardly recognizable with his torn skin and bright red blood smearing his white skin. Edward had run home, washed and scrubbed until his skin felt raw. He looked down again, and the blood was gone, a figment of his imagination that he could not quite explain.

  What had happened? Why were there parts of his day that were completely blacked out?

  “Such a shame before the ball tomorrow evening,” Dr. McCrae continued. He didn’t see the blood. He didn’t even see Colonel Hart’s mangled body.

  “Yes, it is,” Edward replied and folded his hands behind his back just so he wouldn’t have to imagine the bloodstains there.

  “Are you going to cancel?” Dr. McCrae said, and he heard a hint of disappointment in his tone.

  Edward thought about it for a moment. Though common courtesy insisted he reschedule given the recent occurrences, he felt as if the ball needed to happen as planned. As if it were beyond his control. “I think not, I would hate to disappoint Catherine. It is her ball, and she’s put so much planning into it.”

  Dr. McCrae sighed, in relief it seemed. “I agree with you, old friend. You’ve made the right decision with your wife. She’s a good woman.”

  Edward thought of the scene he had seen only the day prior. Was she really? He was not sure any longer. He wasn’t even sure he had seen her with another man. Perhaps he was going mad.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Catherine sat before her vanity, admiring her reflection. The soft curls that brushed her neck were charming, and the ribbon across it was a blushing pink that she fancied. It seemed decades since she had arrived in Thornwood, but here it was only a week later. Before, she would not have been so vain as to admire her own image in a mirror, but after everything she had experienced, a bit of vanity seemed the least of her worries.

  A knock at the door drew her from her attentions. “Come in,” she greeted the knocker.

  Edward stepped in, dashing in his coat and tails for the ball. Catherine’s stomach twisted in knots. Just seeing him caused her guilty conscious to take hold. Edward deserves better than me; I am selfish and now vain! He should be with Henrietta, not me, not because of Mr. Thorn’s spell.

  She needed to explain to him and settle this matter straight away, but she resisted for fear of appearing out of her wits. She hardly believed it herself.

&nbs
p; “Good evening,” she said as he strode past her.

  He crossed the room without acknowledging her greeting; it seemed strange. Edward was normally a sweet and caring husband. This stony silence was quite out of character. Perhaps the spell was wearing off and he no longer cared for her. As selfish as it was, she felt a pang of disappointment.

  He stood with his back to her, staring out the open window. Tabitha had only moments before flown out. She had mentioned something about chasing down some dinner. The draperies twitched in the slight breeze.

  “Is something the matter?” Catherine asked in hopes of permeating the strained silence.

  He turned to face her, and the coldness of his expression sent a fearful chill up her spine as she remembered the other night when he had grabbed her hand with that same frightening expression.

  “Perhaps you should tell me, darling,” he said.

  Catherine straightened a bit more in her chair. Though she had no right to be called his wife, his cruelty was unexpected, even if his manufactured affection for her was waning. “Have I done something to offend?” Her heartbeat picked up its rhythm.

  “I should say so,” he said as he paced back and forth across the bedroom floor.

  She watched him through lowered lashes. She feared inciting his wrath. She had never considered Edward a temperamental man, but maybe his sweet nature had been a part of the spell. “And could you perhaps enlighten me as to how I have offended because, begging your pardon, I have no idea what I have done.”

  He stopped and stood before her. His judgmental gaze seemed to burn through her, and she hesitantly raised her eyes up to him. “Surely you knew I would find out eventually, Catherine. You denied it, but I have discovered the truth.” The way he said her name, dripping with disdain, it made her stomach twist further into knots. He had found out how cruel she had been to Henrietta, perhaps. Or, she paled to think, he had seen Mr. Thorn kiss her in the forest!

  She refused to acknowledge the latter and instead assumed the former. “I apologize for my actions towards Henrietta. I should have shown her more hospitality. Tonight at the ball I will make amends with her.”

  “Henrietta?” he spat. “This is not about Henrietta, dear wife. This is about your maidenhead and the men who have known you before I.”

  She gasped at his insinuation and found she had no proper words to respond. It had been a kiss. How could he think she had known any man other than him? She had to explain herself. He must have seen what Mr. Thorn did and rightfully jumped to the wrong conclusion. She would have thought the same had their positions been reversed. But how did she explain such a thing like a spell without sounding mad?

  She opened her mouth to explain, but no words would come out. Even though she knew his feelings for her were false, she did not want to lose his good favor. It pained her to think that the truth might lessen his esteem for her.

  However, while she debated her choices, Edward jumped to the wrong conclusion. “So you do not deny it?” he asked, and the pain in his expression brought tears to her eyes.

  “I am sorry, Edward.” She sobbed, it was all she could say, and she buried her head in her hands.

  “Dr. McCrae is convinced you are with child. I have known you only a few times since we were married, and I, as a man of learning, know you could not be exhibiting signs of bearing a child so soon unless you had known a man before me.”

  She looked at him through her tears. “Edward, please, I can explain. I was never with another man, and I can assure you, I am not with child. The doctor is incorrect. I have known one man, and that is you, Edward.”

  He stared at her, a cold intensity in his eyes. She wanted to do something to calm this beast that stirred behind his eyes. Though she feared him, she stood up and took his hand in hers. He tensed beneath her touch but did not pull away. She moved closer, slowly, as one would an enraged animal, and very gently placed her hand on his cheeks. He looked into her eyes, and she said, “I love you and only you, Edward.” She blinked back tears as she said it, now would be a good time to explain the spell and to tell him that he should set her aside. She was never meant to be his wife.

  He relaxed his shoulders, and the intense anger he had shown her before seemed to ebb. She felt a wave of calm wash over her as well. Was this her own power or something else? She could not be certain. She delayed in exposing the truth for just a bit longer, however. Catherine knew soon she would have to explain everything to him and give up her place by his side, but tonight, for one last time, she wanted to pretend.

  The lady entered the ballroom, her blood-red gown sweeping around her ankles. Her servant escorted her, tonight disguised as a gentleman. The neighbors, so used to seeing her at functions, thought nothing of the handsome woman and her gentleman attendant. The host and hostess were off to one side, greeting their guests. From the fresh tear marks on Catherine’s face and the stiff set of Edward’s shoulders, she could see her spell was working.

  A few more moves and the stage would be set. It had been a long time since she’d had this much fun. She and her escort swirled around the room until they made their way to the hosts. The woman’s eye was drawn to her immediately, as it should be; they were bound together, the two of them. What a fool he was to bring her here, she thought. Edward smiled at her as she approached, and his shoulders unknotted as he laid eyes upon her. He strode the last remaining feet to greet her.

  She drew the cords around his heart a bit tighter as he approached, binding him to her further. Through the connection she could feel his confusion and the stirring rage just held in check by propriety.

  “Aunt Isabelle, you came. I am cheered by your attendance.” He took her outstretched hand and brought her over to his wife, Catherine.

  She was as demure as she had imagined, and the lily white of her soul seemed glaring up close. She looked up at Lady Bastien through lashes clumped together from her tears. She could taste the girl’s anguish like a fine vintage. Soon my pet, soon, she thought.

  “Ah, Edward, it is always a delight to be back in my childhood home.” She paused and gazed around the ballroom, to the chandeliers sparkling and the dome ceiling perfect for acoustics. The girl’s eyes followed her; she could feel them on her skin like a gentle touch. She then turned to the young woman and met her gaze. “And this charming creature must be your wife.” She approached Catherine as one would a timid woodland creature. She felt the girl’s excited heartbeat as she tilted her head back to look her full in the face.

  Lady Bastien smiled.

  “Aunt, please meet my dear wife, Catherine.” The strain of his tone was hardly disguised; things had progressed quite nicely, maybe even faster than expected.

  “Lady Bastien.” She pulled out of her hold and curtsied, her pink gown fluttering as she did so.

  The child stared up at her through large doe eyes. She was pale as new-fallen snow and twice as pure. She is the perfect candidate. He could not have brought me one better. She is as naive as spring, and she has participated in the dance. You have laid her right into my hands, my old friend.

  “Please call me Isabelle, all my friends do.” She sent out a probing tendril of magic and easily ensnared the child. Nothing complicated, just something to stir up the already raw emotions just for tonight’s festivities. Before long, the girl would be hers and the other world would be hers for the taking as it always should have been. Her web woven around the girl, the child seemed flushed and fidgeted uncomfortably. Perfect, she thought, now all that’s left is to stir the pot.

  Rai sat in the crook of an old oak and watched the silhouettes inside the house move past the windows. I do not understand these human gatherings. How can they dance without moonlight? Without feeling the earth beneath their feet? He tilted his head back and gazed at the half moon.

  He sensed something on the wind which made him uneasy, he was not in the habit of watching humans. In fact, he felt it beneath his bloodlines to do so. But given his current position, he had little else to do. Besid
es, he was worried about Catherine. If his suspicions were correct and she had gotten involved, he would have to step up from meddling and move his plans forward sooner than he had anticipated.

  “The moon is still not right,” he whispered under his breath.

  A flapping of wings and a gust of wind blew past. He turned as Tabitha settled herself upon a branch across from him. In her talons a gray field mouse squirmed.

  “You are supposed to be watching Catherine,” he said.

  She ignored him and leaned forward to capture her meal with her beak. The morsel was small enough that she swallowed it in one bite.

  She hooted softly with pleasure after she finished and said, “I am. She’s at the human dance. What harm can be done there?” She ruffled her feathers and picked at a few with her beak.

  Rai frowned and cursed his weakened senses. He knew something was amiss inside the human dwelling; he would have to investigate. He dropped to the ground without a sound. “I think I’ll go and see what this human dancing is like.”

  Tabitha clicked her beak. “I would not advise it; it’s nothing compared to a forest dance. A noble creature such as yourself should not sully your reputation further with such a dalliance.”

  He waved at her in parting, ignoring her advice. He thought it would be safer to separate himself from Catherine, but he feared her ladyship’s interest was more than a passing fancy, which meant Catherine was in danger.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Their opening dance had been tense to say the least. Edward had held her stiffly at arm’s length, and she felt she was only able to breathe during the moments when they promenaded away from one another or when they were dancing with another person. Edward smiled and laughed at everyone, but when his gaze fell upon her, he would quickly look away. It cut her deeper than she would like to admit.

  Then to make matters worse, as she turned around, clasping hands with Dr. McCrae, she caught a vision of a most unwanted sight. Her muscles tensed, and she accidently dug her nails into the doctor’s hand.