The Wraith and the Rose

by C. J. Brightley

  “Lord Willowvale.” Sir Jacob bowed again, Lady Hathaway curtsied, and Oliver and Lily followed suit.

  The fairy eyed them coldly, then abruptly said, “May I have this dance, Lilybeth?”

  Theo cleared his throat. “Miss Hathaway, if you please.”

  Lord Willowvale shot him a murderous look. “I am well aware of your human conventions, puppy, but it is no insult to call a person by their name.”

  Theo smiled sweetly. “Yet is it not the height of discourtesy to address a lady with unwelcome familiarity? Miss Hathaway would be far too kind to hold it against you, I am sure, if you asked forgiveness.”

  The fairy glared at him wrathfully, then turned his cold gaze upon Lily. Through clenched teeth, he growled, “Forgive me, Miss Hathaway. Would you do me the honor of this dance?”

  Lily bit her lip and glanced at her father, who gave her a slight, reassuring nod.

  “Yes, Lord Willowvale,” she managed.

  Theo’s eyes glinted, and he stepped back, letting Lord Willowvale bow politely over her hand.

  The fairy’s cold eyes met hers when he straightened. He led her to the dance floor with icy courtesy and placed his hand upon her waist. His eyes held hers for a moment, then he looked past her and around the room.

  She didn’t know whether he expected her to carry the conversation or if he preferred silence. The thought of making polite small talk with him was entirely too intimidating, so she kept her eyes upon his cravat and followed his lead without speaking. He was a skillful dancer, and she thought that if he would only smile, he might have many willing dance partners.

  “What do you know of the Wraith?” he said.

  “Nothing, Lord Willowvale.”

  “Nothing at all?” His interest sharpened. “That’s interesting, as everyone seems to have heard of him.”

  She swallowed. “I know what the rumors say, that’s all. I cannot know whether any of it is true.”

  He stepped away to let her follow the graceful turn of the dance, then stepped back closer. “What do you think of his actions?”

  “He’s a hero, of course.” The answer was simple. She looked up at him. “If you think that because I am the very least of the guests here I will betray him to you, you are sadly mistaken, my lord.”

  He gave her a faint, amused smile. “Your loyalty is lovely. One can only wish it were directed at someone more worthy. The Rose has cost my people more than you know.”

  “How so?”

  His smile turned cold again. “I am not at liberty to say. Suffice it to say that your national hero is an enemy of our people, and my cause is just.”

  She bit her lip. “Is it just to use human children for your own ends? How can you say that your cause is just, when the means are so abhorrent?”

  Lord Willowvale’s shoulders, if possible, grew even stiffer, and his eyes flashed dangerously. “When a human has the opportunity to be of service to a fairy, it should be grateful.”

  Lily raised her chin to meet his eyes. “Is that so?” Her voice shook a little. “Is that how you see us, as things to be used? I believe I’ve heard enough, Lord Willowvale.”

  The dance was nearly at an end. She began to pull away, but he held her a moment longer, his grip unyielding.

  He bent over her hand, as proper and courteous as any Valestrian lord. “You have heard without understanding, and you know as little of your own hero as you do of us.” He met her eyes as he straightened, and she trembled at his icy anger, but he said only, “Thank you for the dance, Miss Hathaway. I pray you enjoy your evening.” He stalked away.

  Before she had a chance to recover herself, Theo bowed before her.

  “Would you honor me with the next dance, Miss Hathaway?”

  She blinked at him, trying not to blush. “We’ve already danced twice, my lord. I think three would certainly be pushing the bounds of propriety.”

  His hazel eyes sparkled at her with irrepressible delight. “Indeed we have. I mean to have at least three more tonight, if you will so honor me.”

  Her mouth dropped open and she hurriedly covered the expression with one hand.

  He spoke again before she could reply. “Also, I’m no lord. You must call me Theo.”

  She blinked. Was that proper? “But sir—”

  “Just Theo!” His smile widened. “Please do say you will dance with me again.” He held her eyes as he bent to kiss her fingers again with exaggerated courtesy.

  She hesitated a moment more, and he stepped a little closer to murmur, “Yes, it is an expression of intent, and I mean it. You can always jilt me later. It won’t reflect badly on you.”

  She swallowed, then gave a tiny nod.

  He led her into the dance with a quick step, and they spun and turned and passed each other with little conversation. She knew the steps, though not as well as he did, and felt herself flushing with effort and embarrassment as she missed several steps. Then she was out of the rhythm and missed a turn.

  Theo murmured, “One, two, three, step, turn,” caught her hand and brought her back into the rhythm. Then he was away, turning with a new partner, and she stared at Lord Somebody for three steps, then Theo was back, beaming at her.

  When the dance ended, she said breathlessly, “I’d like a rest, sir.”

  “Just Theo, Miss Hathaway,” he murmured softly. “May I introduce you to my parents?”

  She blinked up at him, feeling off-balance. The evening had quickly gone far beyond Oliver’s promised night of sedate dancing and, apparently, a chance for eligible young lords to see the beauty of his beloved younger sister. The evening was meant to be safe and predictable, though more formal than she was accustomed to.

  “If you wish,” she said.

  He led her to a couple who were conversing quietly near one corner.

  “Mother, Father, this is Miss Lilybeth Hathaway, Sir Jacob Hathaway’s daughter. Miss Hathaway, these are my parents, Sir Theodore Overton the Third, Baronet, and Lady Helena Overton.”

  Both of them smiled at her kindly, and she realized that Theo’s sparkling friendliness was an entirely natural result of being born to these two people. Lady Overton had a warm smile and hazel eyes like Theo’s. Her strawberry blonde hair was shot through with gray, and it was all caught up in the braids and curls so popular this season. Sir Theodore’s face had the same delicately chiseled lines as his son’s, and he had a few more freckles across his nose and cheeks than his son did. His hair was a similar auburn shade, and his eyes had a little more brown. Both of them had the lines of smiles around their eyes.

  Lily curtsied as gracefully as she could, feeling far out of her depth.

  “It is lovely to meet you, my dear.” Sir Theodore bowed over her hand, and though she knew it was the proper courtesy, it seemed somehow even more absurd when the man bowing to her was her father’s age.

  Lady Overton inquired after her family, her home, and her interests. Sir Theodore listened in quiet approval. Theo disappeared for several minutes, but Sir Theodore and Lady Overton made her feel so comfortable that her momentary panic faded quickly.

  When Theo reappeared at her side, his father asked, “May I have this dance?”

  She blinked at him and glanced at Theo, then nodded.

  The older man smiled kindly at her as the dance began, and she tried to relax. “Has my son completely overwhelmed you with his affection yet?” he said at last.

  “It’s a little startling,” she admitted.

  Sir Theodore chuckled under his breath but said nothing else.

  When the dance finished, Theo bowed over her hand again.

  “Would you honor me with this dance, Miss Hathaway?”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Please.” His smile was warm and sweet, and she thought despairingly that he could have charmed anyone in the room. Maybe he had charmed everyone in the room already, and she was only the latest in a long list of conquests.

  When the dance ended, Theo asked, “Would you care for some refresh
ment?”

  “Yes, please. I’m a little thirsty.”

  He snagged a flute of sparkling wine from a passing footman and handed it to her. “What do you love about your home, Miss Hathaway?”

  She glanced up at him, wondering if he was being condescending. There was nothing but innocent interest in his expression, so she said, “I love our garden. It was old before I was born, but it became overgrown while my father was away when I was young. Since he has been back, and I’ve been older, I have grown to enjoy working it.”

  “I imagine it’s beautiful. Will you tell me more about it?” He drew her a little farther from the guests who had begun yet another quick dance.

  “I planted a great number of roses a few years ago, so now there is a little rose garden. Jasper—he’s my father’s manservant, I suppose you could say—made several benches which now sit among the roses. He also helped me plant some delphiniums and hollyhocks and cottage pinks all along the south side, with lilies and primroses and ladies’ mantle and lavender.” She did love the garden, and she was proud of what she had done with it, though it was hardly a lady’s work to get her hands dirty. Yet the expectant look in his eyes was disarming, and she found herself continuing, “Father has promised me three new peonies for my birthday. I have several varieties already, but they are such beauties I would love some more for the cutting garden.”

  Then her father was at her side, to Theo’s apparent consternation.

  “It’s my turn, I believe,” said Sir Jacob to Theo, politely but firmly.

  “Of course,” Theo murmured. He took her empty glass and bowed to them both.

  Her father’s presence was comforting, and for a moment, Lily just rested in his silence.

  “Young Overton seems entranced,” he said at last, with a hint of a smile.

  Her cheeks heated, and she looked down at the toes of her slippers. “He does seem so,” she murmured. “I’m a little afraid he’s impulsive, and I’ll only be interesting for one night.”

  Her father’s arm tightened around her almost imperceptibly. “He does not have a history of pursuing young ladies and then losing interest.”

  She looked up at him. “You inquired?”

  Her father chuckled softly. “A rich young lord dances with my daughter four times in one evening and introduces her to his parents? Of course I inquired about him. The worst thing anyone would say about him was that he’s a bit of a simpleton. His friends are loyal. His elders find him charming and respectful. Eligible young ladies wish he’d flirt more.”

  Lily blinked. “Oh.” She added, “He said he wanted at least two more dances tonight.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  Lily tried unsuccessfully not to giggle.

  Her father muttered, “Shall I tell him no, or do you want to do it?”

  “You are welcome to. I don’t know that I could refuse him if he smiled at me.”

  Her father looked at her sharply. “It’s that bad already? Heaven help us. It’s not just the money, is it?”

  Lily shook her head. “He asked about home and listened when I talked about the peonies.”

  He shook his head and sighed.

  The hour was late, and even the most dedicated dancers among the guests had begun to slow. Somewhat to Lily’s surprise, Theo was not waiting for them when the dance finished.

  “He’s with the prince,” her father said. “Though I wonder that I am telling you at all. He’s had more than enough of your attention tonight.”

  She glanced up at him quickly to see a rueful sort of humor in his eyes.

  Theo had bent to listen to Prince Selwyn, who was murmuring seriously into his ear. The taller man nodded once, then continued to listen, looking over the room with a faint, thoughtful smile on his face. Finally he answered the prince and turned away.

  Theo looked over the guests until he caught sight of them and approached them with an open, delighted smile.

  Sir Jacob Hathaway’s cautious expression softened. “No,” he said preemptively. “It is late, and we’re leaving.”

  Theo’s smile faded. He caught Lily’s hand and bowed over it, kissing her fingers lightly, then not quite letting go. “Must you depart so soon?”

  “Yes,” Sir Jacob said firmly.

  Theo smiled again, warm and sweet and kind. He bowed deeply to her father. “Before you leave, may I introduce you to my parents?”

  Sir Jacob blinked. “I… Yes, of course.”

  Theo led them first to where Lady Hathaway stood, and asked, “May I introduce you to my parents before you depart? It was a pleasure to meet you this evening, and I would hate to deprive my parents of the honor of your acquaintance.”

  Lily wondered whether he meant to be sarcastic, but there was nothing of impertinence in his expression. He looked open and sincere, all bright optimism and hope.

  Lady Hathaway smiled and agreed. Theo led the whole group toward his parents, catching Oliver along the way.

  He made the introductions with perfect courtesy, and while the elders made polite conversation, he caught Lily’s eye and one corner of his mouth lifted in a conspiratorial smile.

  He bowed over her hand again before saying, “Goodnight, Miss Hathaway,” so softly that heat rose in her cheeks.

  They departed for home in a haze of exhaustion, grateful for the brisk night air and sudden quiet, broken only by the sound of the horses’ hooves on the road and the creak of the coach.

  Chapter 2

  An Expression of Interest

  When Lily wandered down to breakfast late the next morning, her mother said, “Young Mr. Overton has already left his card.”

  Lily blinked.

  From his seat at the table, Sir Jacob said, “That seems precipitous.”

  Oliver had followed Lily down the stairs and put his hands on her shoulders to move her out of the doorway. “Maybe he’s just decisive. Who wouldn’t be entranced by Lily?” He smiled at her affectionately.

  “Flatterer.” She cut a thick piece of the bread her mother had baked the day before and spread honey butter over it generously. “I barely saw you last night. How was it for you, Oliver?”

  Her brother shrugged. “All right. I danced with most of the girls once. Lord Selby was a little disappointed he didn’t manage to claim a second dance with you.” He eyed her curiously. “Did you really like Overton that much?”

  She blushed and focused on her bread for a moment, hoping the heat would fade from her cheeks. “He has very nice manners,” she said eventually.

  Oliver studied her face and smiled when she blushed more deeply. But he said nothing else.

  “What did you think of Lord Willowvale?” asked her mother.

  Sir Jacob grimaced. “He’s as sharp as they come. The Wraith had better watch his back.”

  “Who do you think it is, Father?” asked Oliver. “I had always assumed he must be some rich lord, but last night puts paid to that.”

  “I don’t see why the Wraith must be rich,” mused Lily. “There is nothing of heroism that requires wealth.”

  “No, but the disguises cost money. There’s some minor magical talent running through many of the families we saw last night. Does the Wraith use magic?”

  Sir Jacob said, “I haven’t heard of it, but there’s much we don’t know. Surely he must know a little, or he wouldn’t be able to traverse the Fair Lands at all.”

  “What if the Wraith isn’t even human? What if he’s one of the Fair Folk himself?” asked Lily.

  Oliver blinked. “That’s an interesting thought.”

  Sir Jacob said more seriously, “The Arichtan ambassador has grown more friendly since the Fair Folk seem to count the Wraith as one of us. Whether it’s gratitude or self-interest, he’s has been much more helpful lately.”

  “How?” Lily asked.

  “He has been freely sharing how many children are missing with everyone he sees, in hopes that the Wraith will find out and help some of them. The gentlemen were all talking about it last night.”
Sir Jacob frowned at his coffee thoughtfully. “Apparently some of the victims’ families are quite wealthy and have offered substantial rewards for their return. Others are penniless, farm children or orphans.”

  “Does the Wraith rescue them all, or only some of them?” asked Oliver.

  Sir Jacob replied, “Any that he can, as far as we can tell.” He looked up. “I wish I could help the man. He’s doing God’s work, and whoever he is, he’s running grave risks.”

  Lily kept listening, but her thoughts whirled around her. The mysterious Wraith had caught her imagination, as he had that of everyone in Valestria. She was trying to imagine what he might be like when her father’s next words caught her attention.

  “There are twenty-three children missing now.” The grief and sympathy in his voice brought tears to her eyes, and her sympathetic heart filled with compassion.

  “What can we do for them?” she whispered.

  Oliver said, “I heard the prince has established a home for the orphan children the Wraith has freed. Aricht doesn’t want them, so we might as well keep them. He’s going to educate them in trades or something.”

  Lily’s heart caught at the plight of these poor children. Orphaned, unwanted, stolen, rescued, and abandoned by their own countrymen, they would find a home of sorts here in Valestria. “Maybe that is how we can help. May we visit the home?”

  “I don’t believe it’s open to visitors; the children have been through so much. But it might be worth a try.”

  “I could teach them embroidery and gardening. We could start a garden there, if they have even a little plot of land.” She smiled. “I wonder if we might even catch a glimpse of the Wraith.”

  Oliver scoffed. “I doubt it. I wouldn’t imagine he’s even involved. If I were him, I’d keep well clear of any ongoing connection to the poor children.”

  “We should not underestimate his heroism!” shot back Lily. “It is not unreasonable that he would want to help them even after they are back in the human realm. We should all be so ready to help our fellow men.”

  Oliver’s eyes widened. “I’m not casting aspersions on the man! I’m as ready to help as anyone. I’ll go with you, if you want to visit the home.” He frowned thoughtfully. “Though what use we can be is a little beyond me.”