“Mrs. Thornton, you’re holding on too tight,” he said jovially.
She let him go with a mumbled apology and continued the dance. Her eyes were glued on Miss Jones, the detestable creature who had dared show her face at Catherine’s ball.
She paused, mid stride, terrified by her own thoughts. Had Mr. Thorn not cured her of these hateful feelings or were her negative emotions towards Miss Jones her own? She was not sure anymore.
Edward walked up to her, as was his part in that particular portion of the dance, and raised a skeptical brow at her.
“What is it?” he asked. His eyes followed hers, and they fell upon Miss Jones.
“Henrietta,” he whispered, and the longing of his tone threatened to be Catherine’s undoing.
The song ended, and the dancers departed, waiting for another dance to begin.
“I have tired of dancing,” Catherine said, but Edward had already walked away toward Miss Jones.
She held back her bitter tears. Those would be better shed later on when she was alone once more. Though she had resigned herself to this fate, it did not hurt any less. She was certain Edward would not share her bed again.
A prickling sensation danced across the back of her neck, and Catherine glanced up in time to see Mr. Thorn sliding through the crowd. She considered avoiding him, but it was a passing thought. It was a relief to have him here as a distraction. He came to stand beside her, and the tilted grin on his lips caused her to wonder how he, a supposed servant, got into the party.
“Mr. Thorn, what a pleasant surprise,” she said with just a touch of sarcasm; he seemed to bring out a bit of a tart in her.
“Is it? You summoned me,” he said and gave a nod and a smile to Emma, who was watching the pair of them over her fan.
Catherine laughed and looked away from her sister-in-law. She did not want to imagine what she was thinking. “Hardly, I was merely watching my guests enjoy the party.”
“But you were thinking about me,” he said cheekily.
Catherine colored at his insinuation but hid it behind her own decorative fan. “I presume you would enjoy that if I were.”
He laughed uproariously, and a few guests stared at the pair of them askance. Emma leaned in to whisper in her companion’s ear. Catherine tugged on his arm and said in a hiss, “You are making a scene, Mr. Thorn.”
He continued to smile as he stepped in front of her, blocking her view of Emma. “Then perhaps you should distract me with a dance, Mrs. Thornton.”
Catherine fidgeted as she considered his proposition. What would the neighbors think to see her dancing with the gardener? But she knew without a doubt if she did not give in to his whims, he would make sure they saw much more than her dancing with the gardener.
She sighed, resigned to her ill fate. “Fine, but only one.”
He laughed again as he led her onto the dance floor.
Across the floor, Edward felt a zinging sensation as he spoke with Henrietta. He had finally managed to find time to talk, just the two of them. He hadn’t a moment to speak with her in ages, and at the back of his mind he knew there was something he needed to say to her. His thoughts seemed a jumble as of late, and he could not express himself as was his want.
“I am flattered by your invitation, Edward, but I feel under the weather,” Henrietta said. Her eyes darted past him toward Catherine, who had previously been glaring at her.
He was not listening. As if a string were being pulled, he turned his head just in time to see Mr. Thorn lean in as Catherine passed him by in their shared dance. She smiled and ducked her head, while his hand lingered too long against hers. The beast inside him roared with anger. How dare she flaunt her infidelity for the entire neighborhood to see! How dare she bring that man here?
“Edward?” Henrietta touched his arm, but he had forgotten all about her, his entire focus upon Catherine and Mr. Thorn.
Mr. Thorn watched every move Catherine made, his dark eyes following her no matter where she went upon the dance floor. When they rejoined in the center, every touch of their fingertips and every glance they shared seemed to ripple through Edward tenfold.
How could she lie to me? he thought.
“I’m sorry, Henrietta, you must excuse me for a moment.”
Henrietta, who had been trying to tell him she was leaving, only hung her head and headed for the door.
Lady Bastien watched from near the mantle, where she and her servant were enjoying the mixing of emotions about the room.
Edward had detoured for but a moment, reverting back to his deeply ingrained feelings for Miss Jones, but the spell, her spell, had won out in the end. Seeing Rai here had been a surprise, but a pleasant one, she knew he would not be able to keep himself out of the mix for long.
“Things are going exactly as I had planned, but I think a bit more spice is needed to make this perfect.” She nodded towards her servant, who with a deep bow sunk into the shadows.
It will not be long at all, she thought.
Catherine was surprised to find what a capable dancer Mr. Thorn was. That is, at human dancing. She had seen the way he could flip and fly during the forest dance, but the same power and awe he put into the woodland dance seemed to transform to elegant grace upon the dance floor. Every extension of his arm, every bow, every brief touch of hands took her breath away. He truly was inhuman, as was she, she remembered. Admitting that even to herself seemed like a monumental accomplishment.
Engrossed in dancing with Mr. Thorn, she did not notice her husband storming up towards her or how the dancing stopped or that the music had faded away. He pulled her away from him, and Catherine flew back, nearly toppling over.
“Sir, what are you doing with my wife?” Edward said to Mr. Thorn.
She realized too late what a terrible mistake she had made. She had thought only to look for a distraction and had not considered how improper her actions might appear to Edward.
Mr. Thorn, in turn, folded his arms over his chest and replied, “I am dancing with her, as you should have been. It is a ball.”
Catherine gasped and covered her mouth. How could he say such a thing?
“Edward, nothing untoward happened. We were dancing,” Catherine attempted to interject, but Edward gave her a quelling look. She lowered her head as if chastised.
“You have no place to tell me how I should treat my wife. I should dismiss you from my service for your insolence,” Edward said to Mr. Thorn. The very idea of losing Mr. Thorn panicked Catherine, which surprised her. It had not occurred to her that she cared that much.
“I would like to see you do something decisive for once, Edward.”
Edward was turning purple with anger, and Catherine feared it would come to blows. However, a crash at the far end of the ballroom turned everyone’s attention. A great beast, humanoid in shape but covered in fur and with an elongated muzzle, crouched at the far end of the hall.
The guests screamed and ran for the doors. However, they were flung closed, trapping everyone inside with the creature. It howled, and Catherine flashed back to that night in the forest on her way home. She looked to Mr. Thorn for help, but he and Edward were still locked in a match of wills as if they did not see the lumbering beast.
“I shall duel you, for my wife’s honor,” Edward said.
Mr. Thorn laughed, throwing back his head. “You are brave to challenge me. I shall see your challenge, however, and teach you a lesson.”
“Mr. Thorn, look, do you not see we are in danger?” She threw an arm to gesture to the monster, which had begun chasing after the guests. Catherine shouted at the pair of them, whilst keeping one eye on the beast, who circled the room, corralling the guests. If one tried to escape, it roared, and they fell back, quivering in fear.
The two men continued to argue and posture. Catherine felt lost. How could she stop this creature?
“You have the power to stop the creature,” Lady Bastien whispered in her ear.
Catherine turned and faced her. Did
Lady Bastien also know something of these strange occurrences?
“What do you mean, me?” Catherine trembled with fear, surely the woman was joking.
“I know what you are, Catherine. I am the same, and I can help you like they cannot.” She motioned toward Mr. Thorn and Edward.
“How?” There was no time for explanations. Something had Edward and Mr. Thorn in its thrall, which meant she was the only one who could save their guests.
“You have the ability to command the beast. Just tell it what to do.”
Catherine considered calling the woman mad, how could she control such a monster? She had not had the ability before.
“You can trust me. I know it’s hard for you to believe. They forced you to suppress your powers because it was considered abnormal, but I am telling you, Catherine, you can control it.”
She grabbed Catherine by the shoulders and gently pushed her forward. She stumbled out from within the crowd. She faced the creature and squared her shoulders, drawing upon some previously unknown well of confidence. Her arms trembled despite her desire to still them.
“Leave these people and this place,” she whispered.
“You need more conviction. Command the creature!” Lady Bastien urged.
She took a deep breath and shouted, “I command you to leave this place at once and never return!”
The creature slumped its humanoid shoulders as if it were a chastised animal. It turned towards the broken window and fled out it.
Catherine fell to her knees, amazed that it had worked.
“Very good, you are a natural,” Lady Bastien said. “But when the creature’s spell is broken, no one but you or I will remember.”
“Why not?”
“That is for another day, child. Come to me, and I will explain everything.”
She had so many questions for her. To think Edward’s aunt knew all along, but before she could ask, the shouting of Edward and Mr. Thorn had intensified, and they were being subdued by their party guests. Mr. Thorn was led out, and Edward was gesturing emphatically. She caught Mr. Thorn’s eye, but he did not return her questioning gaze as he was led out.
When Catherine turned to ask Lady Bastien to explain the men’s odd behavior, she had disappeared.
Chapter Sixteen
Catherine called upon Lady Bastien straight away the following day. She lived up the hill from them, and it was a crisp morning walk to her home. The fog clung heavily to the ground like a thick coat. She had slipped out without a word to anyone. She did not even try to find Edward, for she feared another confrontation. She hoped Lady Bastien could shed some light upon the situation. Edward had been acting very peculiar as of late. His boorish behavior was unexpected and a bit frightening. Mr. Thorn’s actions had not gone without note either. She had tried to find him after the ball, which had ended after the fight without a word of the creature’s appearance.
The gate to Lady Bastien’s house was overgrown with ivy, and the fog obscured the building from view. Catherine entered through the garden gate, and the mist rolled back as she approached the front door, creating a clear pathway for her. She wondered if it was enchanted.
Before she reached the front door, a servant opened it for her from within.
“Her ladyship has been expecting you.”
Catherine faltered. There was something about the bent-over man that seemed familiar. She disregarded the feeling and followed him into the foyer. Since the night before, Catherine had been overwhelmed by the need to speak with Lady Bastien, as if all her problems could be solved by her. She felt an inexplicable draw to the woman that she could not put into words. It was the same feeling the forest gave her.
“I thank you kindly.”
They crossed the room, and Catherine’s boots clicked on the parquet floors. The echoing sound left her with an uneasy feeling. Though the house was well tended, it felt empty and without warmth. The servant took Catherine’s coat, and she shivered, only accentuating her unease.
“The parlor is this way, madame.” He motioned with his arm to a room adjacent to the foyer.
Catherine nodded and followed him. He opened the parlor doors for her, and inside, a fire crackled in a fireplace. Catherine stepped into a well-appointed room. A pianoforte was placed in a far corner, the guard pulled back as if Lady Bastien had only just finished playing, and three long couches faced an august fireplace.
Lady Bastien wore a dark gray gown and stood to greet her.
“Catherine, my darling creature, welcome.”
Her familiarity was unexpected. They had only just met the night before. Lady Bastien took her by the hand in a warm gesture and showed Catherine to her seat. Lady Bastien’s hands were cold as winter.
“Lady Bastien, thank you for allowing me to visit your home,” she said as she took a seat across from Lady Bastien. Catherine folded her hands in her lap and considered how to approach such an unusual subject.
“Think nothing of it. I have been meaning to have you around for quite some time.” Then turning to her servant, she said, “Henry, bring some Darjeeling and pastries for our guests.”
“Yes, my lady.” He bowed with an arm across his chest and backed out of the room.
“That is my favorite tea,” Catherine remarked.
Lady Bastien smiled. “I know.”
Catherine felt a tingling along her scalp. “How do you know so much about me? We’ve only just met.”
“Why, Edward, of course, he simply raves about you.” She smiled, and Catherine eased back a bit in her chair. He had? Though she knew it was a spell, Catherine was secretly pleased to have him talk about her to his relative, as a proper husband would.
“Does he?” Catherine said, her eyes lowered to the ground. She did not want Lady Bastien to think her prideful.
“You are a sweet girl, Catherine.”
“Thank you,” she said, her voice lowered further. She had never been good at accepting praise, and besides, there were more pressing matters to which they needed to attend. She glanced up at Lady Bastien, who was watching her with a smile on her lips. Catherine took a deep breath and said, “Last night at the ball, you saved us from the creature. Why does no one else in the village remember anything? What is wrong with Edward?”
The words came tumbling out, and Catherine was surprised by the force of her conviction. She clamped a hand over her mouth and looked back to the polished wood floors.
Lady Bastien laughed. It was a sensual husky sound that was nearly unseemly. “Straight to business, then.”
Catherine felt dizzy with excitement or maybe it was the stifling heat of the room. She was drawn in an inexplicable way to her.
“Will you tell me?” Catherine could not keep a pleading tone from creeping into her voice.
“To answer your first question, only those with magic or those who are willing to accept its existence can see it. If they refuse to believe, their eyes are shut to it, just as yours once were.”
Catherine let her eyes drift downward, but Lady Bastien took her chin between thumb and forefinger and lifted her gaze. “But it was your power that stopped the monster. You are a very special individual.”
She shook her head. “I am nothing, even Edward’s love for me is false, a manufactured infatuation that I sense is failing, and even though I should want it to fail, I wish desperately to keep him.” Her pitiful lament was uncalled for, and Catherine colored, realizing she had said too much.
“What makes you think Edward’s love for you is not real?” Lady Bastien asked with a tilt of her head, which diffused some of the sharp cunning in her eyes, but not all.
“Mr. Thorn informed me. He used a spell to trick Edward into bringing me here. He says I am a princess, the daughter of the Thorn King, though I have never met the man.”
Lady Bastien stood and paced away from Catherine. The motion startled her, and she watched as her hostess paced. “This is very dangerous, if Mr. Thorn is meddling in your affairs.”
“What do you me
an?” Catherine said in alarm. Mr. Thorn had been kind to her, in his own teasing way. He used you as well, a nagging voice at the back of her mind reminded her. He put a spell on Edward to bring you here, and he never told you. In a whisper Catherine asked, “Am I in danger?”
“I believe so.” Lady Bastien turned and stood above Catherine. She rested her hands upon the younger woman’s shoulders. “Mr. Thorn is a dangerous man. I think he means to use you in his designs to take over the kingdom of the thorns.”
“How could I help with such a task?” Catherine asked, and she pressed a hand to her chest.
Lady Bastien took a seat beside Catherine and laid her hands in her lap. “There is a story that I heard as a girl. Many years ago, the Thorn King grew lonely in his forest kingdom of endless dancing and revelry, and he ventured beyond the gateway into the human world. There he fell in love with a human girl who lived at the edge of the forest. He took her away and made her his wife, and together they ruled over his kingdom.
“However, his new bride missed her family and wished to visit once more. She was great with child, and though the king worried for her health, he agreed to let her go across the gateway. Unbeknownst to the pair, the king’s general grew restless with his position and desired the throne itself. He hatched a plot to take the throne. He followed the queen into the human world, and once she was out of the protection of the forest, he slew her in secret.
“When the king discovered the death of his human wife, he became despondent and withdrew into himself. Nothing grew, and the dancing and revelry stopped. His people begged him to reconsider and begin the dance again, but he refused. Eventually, he stopped moving and became one with the forest, a giant oak tree forever trapped in his endless sleep of sorrow.”
“What happened to the general?” Catherine asked, fearing the answer.
“He never returned to the kingdom. When he killed an innocent human, the gateway closed for him, never to allow him to return, not fully. He must live along the border of the worlds.”
Those Who Dwell in the Thorns Page 10
