by Daria Vernon
Beth stifled a snort at the teasing and Allison squeaked a giggle.
Then Beth got serious.
“Sneak out with me.”
“What?”
“Sneak out with me. It’s a nice night and a full moon.”
Allison was quiet for a very long time. Then the rustling started again. Beth could hear the mattress shift.
“It’s going to be hard to find my mantle in the dark.”
Beth smiled. “I’ll help you.”
The Allison of a year ago would have never acceded to such a suggestion, but here was a new woman, one who had seen Europe and tasted her independence. Beth was eager to seize on these new proclivities and drag her cousin into a bit of rebellion. What sort of disreputable sister-figure would she be if she neglected her opportunity to corrupt the impressionable?
The two of them fumbled for minutes, seeking out various wraps and slippers in the dark. But soon enough they were hand in hand, crossing the dewy west lawn toward a grove of trees near a garden rotunda on the hill.
They threw a wool blanket onto the driest patch of grass they could find and lay down.
Allison sighed peacefully.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen it like this before,” she said, looking up at the stars.
“I have.”
“You say that like you’ve seen it more than once.”
In fact, Beth hadn’t realized she’d said anything at all. She’d meant to keep that in her head, locked up with her other secrets. It was possible that she was still loosened by the wine. Her body tightened with control.
“I missed you, Allison.”
“I missed you too.” Allison rolled to her side to cradle her friend’s cheek. “My adventure changed me. I feel a little less frightened of everything now.”
“I can tell.” Beth looked into her friend’s glittering eyes. “I’m very proud of you.”
“Tell me, did your adventure change you too?”
Adventure. Goodness, that sounded so much nicer than The Ordeal.
“It did,” said Beth. “I’m also much less afraid.”
Allison rolled away. “Psh. You were never afraid of anything. I don’t believe it.”
“You didn’t really even know me before my adventure.”
“No, it’s clear you’ve always had it. Is that not why we’ve snuck out? You’re seasoned at this, aren’t you? Is this what you did all the time at my age?”
Allison reached a hand over and tickled Beth’s ribs to make her talk.
“Stop!” shrieked Beth, muscling her cousin’s slender but surprisingly strong wrist away from her.
“I will not believe you if you tell me it was all born of the events of a few measly days spent outside of society’s purview, three years ago.” Allison lunged again.
“Fine. Fine!” Beth blocked the quick girl as best she could. Then Allison’s hands found an extra sinister location at her side.
Beth hushed Allison for her giggles, even as her own protestations came out in shrill reports—“Stop! I confess! I confess! I have always been a troublemaker.”
Their giggling died off as Allison’s agile fingers paused their torture. Then she sat up with her fingers dancing in the air above Beth like talons ready to swoop down.
“Interrogator’s next question—”
“Oh, God help me.”
“Were you not flirting with Stefano tonight?”
Before the girl could come down on her, Beth lunged instead, unleashing her fingers on Allison like a clutter of spiders.
“Mercy! Mercy! I plead mercy!”
Giggles tapered off into exhaustion. A truce. The two rolled apart to recover, each on their respective sides of the blanket.
“But were you flirting?” asked Allison.
“A bit, probably.”
“Do you like him?” Allison fiddled with a long piece of grass that she’d plucked. “He’s going back to Greece, you know.”
“I don’t really know him, but I know I liked smiling at him.”
The two grinned and exhaled in unison.
Beth knew exactly what Stefano’s smile had felt like. It had felt like a drop of water in the desert. It had raised the small hairs on her arms for the first time in three years, the first time since . . .
“Allison?”
“Yes?”
“May I tell you a secret?”
“You can tell me anything.” Allison leaned on an elbow and put a reassuring hand on Beth’s arm. “I know I’m young and often silly, but anything you tell me will be kept safe as a jewel in my heart.”
Beth’s arm shook beneath her cousin’s gentle touch. Was it the wine? The full moon? Could she really do this? Allison’s green eyes were wide. Reassuring. Welcoming.
“The man who brought me back to Greenthorne . . . was the same one who kept me from it.” Beth waited for a gasp of shock, but none came. So she turned her gaze upward and trusted the stars. “And I did not want to be parted from him.”
Then came the rest.
The whole clew of messy truths that Beth had nurtured within herself came unraveled. The night on the road. The forest. The folly. The maenad. Good Harry. Quiet Sol. Filthy, wretched Lionel and his stinking maw.
To unburden herself of the story was to liberate herself from the rubble of a building crumbled atop her, brick by brick. Beth’s chest lifted higher with each detail expelled. The escape. The wolves. The encampment.
Rhys.
The pact they’d made in the ravine. How she’d been compelled to trust him, even as the spirits of the woods called her to keep running, likely to her end. How his hand gripped hers so hard once she agreed to go with him. The relief she sensed in him that she’d not die in the woods. The relief she felt herself. The innate knowledge that he wouldn’t let go.
Then there was the feeling of being escorted up the stairs of that ruin for the very first time. The distraction of Rhys’ body against hers as a needle pierced in and out of her skin at his hand. Threatening him with a hot poker. The long dull hours going mad with the maenad. Spilling confessions that she could now spill to the living eyes across from her—Allison’s eyes—glowing with reverent attention.
Beth’s tale traveled back to the forest encampment, and she thought the reliving of it might split her open. She tried to put into words for Allison what it was like to feel such rapturous desperation for another person. Being touched, being—she held back from saying it aloud—being loved.
Allison drew nearer, spellbound by how this highwayman had taken Beth right there in the cold and rotting leaves.
“And your very first time too,” she whispered breathlessly.
Beth flung a mischievous smile meaningfully at her friend. The girl darted upright with both hands to her mouth, breathing a disbelieving no between her fingers.
Beth went yet further back in time, to share the sweet tale of Dyckson and the ensuing scandal that followed her for years. A scandal that Allison had been too young to know of.
At last, the stories ran out.
“Do you think I’ve been stupid?” Beth sought honesty yet dreaded it all the same.
Allison took her hand and pulled it into her lap before stroking Beth’s hair. “You’ve described your story with not a drip of regret in your voice. Your eyes were dancing the whole time. You needn’t have any permission of mine to feel in love.”
Beth opened her mouth to protest—she’d never said a thing about love—but her voice was choked off by some mysterious hand that knew better.
Beth tightened her eyes. “We didn’t have our goodbyes and I don’t know where he is now.”
The only thing that kept her from crumbling was the feeling of Allison’s hands rubbing her arms and sides and the tenderness that the girl’s voice possessed so naturally. “Well,” she said softly, �
�didn’t your father say you were unconscious when Rhys returned with you?”
Beth knew it. It didn’t lessen the depths of the loss in her chest.
“I thought foolishly, and for a long time, that he might return.”
“I understand why it hurts.”
Beth sucked in her breath and rolled away. Allison didn’t let go of her hand.
“He’s fading now. I didn’t want him to for a long time, but he is, and it’s for the better. I scarcely know his face now.” She closed her eyes as if to test her words. She sniffed against the threat of tears and exhaled. “It’s the rest of it that’s hard now. It’s the fact that I know what I’m capable of, and I feel so wasted at Greenthorne. Boredom is killing me, dear cousin.”
“Is that why you envied my tour?”
“How did you guess that?”
“Oh come, there was a reason you didn’t engage with my stories at dinner.”
“Yes, and we established that that reason was the presence of your fair-looking brother.” Allison’s expression remained serious, in spite of Beth’s evasions. “Fine. Yes. I am bored and jealous.”
“Which is ridiculous Beth, because I tell you, that as a novel, your tale would sell many more copies.”
“It most truly would.” Beth laughed, then sobered. “I want to be clear that it’s not a resentment of any sort. Your tour just made my longing the most potent it’s been since—”
“What was that?”
The hissing tone of Allison’s voice brought Beth upright. Allison’s hand tightened on hers. The moon was higher. The night, darker.
“What?” Beth whispered.
Allison put a finger to her lips. Beth listened. A light wind whistled through the nearby hedges. Then Beth heard it too—
tap tap tap
Allison pulled Beth up to her feet before she herself had any real purchase on the ground. The two of them tripped and staggered, leaving the blanket behind on the slick grass. They broke into a blind run.
As they fled down the hill, Beth looked over her shoulder and could swear she saw an upright shadow stalk from one column of the rotunda to another.
Keep moving.
Soon the two were back on the steps of the manor, panting and casting wary glances up the hill that they’d just fled down.
Beth’s eyes and ears were still attuned to the threat. Yet Allison seemed to be trying to laugh through her gasps of air. Allison put a hand on Beth’s shoulder as she recovered. “You know . . .” Allison still could not get her gulps of air quite under control. “. . . one time, I was at the seaside at night with my family. We’d all been putting our feet in the water. It was so dark that you could not see where the water met the sky. You could only see its frothy white edges. I watched it for too long . . .”
Beth only wished to go inside, but Allison slumped against the door to continue her story.
“My fear turned those shapes into a sea beast, and I bolted from the water. Just the sight of me sent a half a dozen others running too. When people asked what I saw, I had to own that it was nothing.” Allison flopped a hand onto Beth’s shoulder with a grin. “Beth, I am certain that I have just now done the same thing.”
Beth offered her cousin a wan smile but cast another worried glance up the hill. Perhaps Allison was right, perhaps the night had gotten the better of their senses.
Allison took Beth’s hands in hers.
“At least I had a wolf-killer to protect me.” She was teasing. She’d not particularly accepted that part of the story. She was too educated to believe that wolves could still be anywhere in England.
Beth’s fear dissipated enough to think back on their conversation. “Allison, I think I’m going to go somewhere. Like you did. It’s been long enough.”
Allison’s lips spread into a wide smile.
“I support that with ever fiber of my being.”
Beth reached for the door, but Allison stopped her to add—
“You could always stop in Greece to see a certain someone.”
Beth’s eyebrows flicked mischievously in response.
The two carefully opened the heavy door together and snuck back inside. Allison, claiming hunger from their little scare, crept off to seek a morsel.
Beth whisked up the staircase, feeling reseated as the ruler of her own kingdom. A new future lay before her—adventures of her own creation. She couldn’t wait to set it all in motion.
As she danced and spun down the hallway, her mantle whirled out wide and caught the dustsheet covering some decoration. It slipped off and she was confronted, mid-twirl, by the statue of a nymph in her path.
Upright and pitcher-less, but not unlike the maenad, her stony eyes took stock of Beth.
Don’t look at me like that. It’s over.
“Perhaps the wolves escaped from some rich fool’s illicit menagerie,” offered Allison.
“Are you still caught up on that?”
“It’s just that I want to believe you.”
Beth nudged Allison’s side playfully, and their parasols tapped overhead. Lady Weldon invited her to shop with them in Bartswell, and Beth had seized on it. It was the perfect opportunity to speak with Mr. Bunce. She’d set her mind on the Continent and was desperate to make the arrangements.
Allison looked back over her shoulder, realizing her parents were no longer following. Beth turned too.
Lord and Lady Weldon stood under a tree laughing together while Lord Weldon straightened a bow on his tall wife’s gown.
“They look happy,” said Beth.
“You know that’s the real reason for my trip, don’t you?”
Beth shot a glance at her, confused.
“Mama wanted to make Father miss us. Make him work less and lure him back to us.”
“I daresay it worked.” She admired the happy couple, wondering just how far Lord Weldon had strayed.
A cart was driving up the street beyond where the cheerful pair fussed over one another in the shade. Beth’s eyes squinted. A man, dingy, large, and bald, caught her notice. She only saw his face for a moment, before the cart turned a corner, but—
Her stomach twisted. He looked like a dead man. Like Sol. Beth didn’t notice she was swaying until Allison’s arm went rigid to steady her.
“What is it, Beth?”
“Sorry, I’m fine. I only thought I saw a ghost.”
Allison groaned. “See you say things like that and it makes me believe you less and less about the wolf.”
“Not a real ghost. Oh, never mind it. It’s just my mind playing tricks like ours did last night.”
Lord and Lady Weldon caught up to them.
“Are you ladies ready to go try on some baubles?” asked Lady Weldon.
“Actually,” Beth demurred, “I’ll be parting ways for a spell. I must make some arrangements at the office of Mr. Bunce.”
Lady Weldon’s narrow face drew down in confusion. “I don’t understand. Who is Mr. Bunce?”
“You’ve met him, Mama. He works for Mr. Clarke,” said Allison.
“Well then, surely Mr. Clarke as your guardian can help you with . . . whatever it is.” She moved her fan rapidly through the air as if shoeing flies.
Allison looked ready to step in with more assistance, but Beth had it well in hand this time.
“I am an unmarried woman in my thirties with my own wealth. If I’ve not yet come into my own guardianship in the eyes of others, then I never shall, but I must do as I need. I’ll meet you at the haberdasher’s.” Beth spun on her heel.
Lady Weldon’s deliberately loud whisper trailed off behind her. “What a dangerous embrace of spinsterhood.”
Oh, I will not only embrace it, Aunt, I will make love to it.
Chapter 17
Beth perched on the edge of the bed in her guest room at the Weldon’s with
a letter in her lap. As she read the note, she could hear carriages rolling into the gravel drive outside and the musicians testing out their strings somewhere downstairs. She was already pinned up into her zone-front gown, a light blue changeable silk that glittered silver when it caught the light just so. Embroidered swags of dripping wisteria adorned its voluminous skirt.
A short ruffle teased out from the edge of her daring neckline and brushed against the delicate skin where her breasts lifted against it. She was all the more aware of the strained sensation as her breath became faster. She fussed with the pendant of Aunt Dahlia’s necklace as she read:
Miss Bethany Clarke,
I have secured your passage on an elegant yacht destined for Belgium. Your point of entry will be Bruges. I will have a carriage arranged to take you to Kingston upon Hull on the 8th, May. I pray this won’t seem too hasty as it’s on the nearer end of your suggested departure, but I know the sailing party well and they will be delighted to have you. I am interviewing for companions to have in your employ. All will be handled. Please send any questions.
And for God’s sake, tell your father so that I don’t have to be the bearer of such news. Spare me that.
Yours, Most Respectfully,
Mr. Bunce, Esq.
Beth could hardly hold the paper still as excitement surged into her fingertips. It was happening. She would finally exercise all the freedom that had been pent up inside her for three steady years. She was going to leave and spread her brand of trouble among unsuspecting strangers on the Continent. She’d own any scandal that came her way, collecting dints in her reputation instead of seashells like every other dull soul.
After all she had survived, there was no fear left in her of the unknown.
Even her discomfort with the ball congregating downstairs was dissipating. She’d join it now in a much more buoyant mood. On this news, she’d be absolutely gliding through the night.
A rap on the door to Allison’s adjoining room snapped away her attention. She tucked the letter under her pillow, wanting to savor it as her powerful secret for the duration of the evening.
