The Wraith and the Rose

by C. J. Brightley

  Finally, he said, “Thank you for telling me. Please do not tell anyone else, I beg you.” There was an odd roughness to his voice.

  “Are you in trouble?” she whispered, as if anyone were around to hear them.

  He gave a short huff of startled laughter and looked down at her with a strange warmth in his eyes, as if seeing her anew. When he smiled this time, it did reach his eyes, just a little. “The situation is under control,” he said. “I beg you, my love, do not speak of it to anyone.”

  She bit her lip. “If that is what you wish.”

  He swallowed, then nodded. “I thank you.”

  Lily said impulsively, “I do love the name Mrs. Overton, and I am proud of it, because I was delighted to marry you, but I do so like it when you call me Lily.”

  Theo nodded sharply. “It is neither the first nor the last of many mistakes you will have to forgive me for, I am sure,” he said, with a catch in his voice.

  “My mother told me, several years ago, that marriage is a long commitment to forgive each other out of love.”

  Theo said nothing, only ducked his head in another bow.

  They walked in silence for quite some time, until they reached, quite to Lily’s surprise, the expansive patio on which they had danced only the day before, to the accompaniment of music and cheerful congratulations.

  She looked up at Theo.

  He bowed to her, still terribly formal, his face pale and strained, and he held out one hand to her. “Would you honor me with a dance, Lily?”

  She could hear how her name almost stuck in his throat, the rough edges of emotion she could not identify.

  Lily curtsied to him, but it was not meant to be cold this time. “I would be delighted to,” she murmured.

  They danced with no music. His hand trembled in hers, and she bit her lip and tried to hold back tears. She could not ask why he looked at her as if he were drowning; she knew he would not say. She caught her breath and bit back a sob.

  They danced for much longer than one song, slow and melancholy and silent, and at last they stood facing each other.

  “Thank you, Lily,” Theo said.

  “Thank you, Theo.” Lily wanted to throw her arms around him, wanted him to kiss her until she could not breathe, but instead she waited for him to show her what he wanted.

  He shuddered again, then bowed, deep and long, and kissed her hand with trembling lips.

  The second morning after the wedding, Lily woke when the sunlight brightened her room to a white and gold glow. She dressed in one of her new dresses Mrs. Collingwood had made and went out to the shared sitting area. Theo was waiting, dressed in immaculate pale blue trousers and a matching vest over a crisp white shirt, with a tray of tea, fruit, and light pastries.

  “Good morning, my love.” Theo stood to greet her and bowed over her hand.

  “Are we to be this formal forever?” Lily’s voice was only a whisper.

  “I am sorry.” Theo invited her to sit beside him. He poured hot tea from the pot into their two delicate tea cups, painted with pink roses and accented with shining gold on the rim. “How might I please you, Lily?”

  Her lips trembled, and she wanted to weep. Why was he not delighted, as he always had been?

  “I just want you to be happy.” She looked at him with tears in her eyes. “I don’t know what happened, or what I did, to make you so… so unlike yourself.”

  His eyes flickered, and she thought for a moment he might weep himself. Then he smiled, and though it wasn’t quite like before, there was warmth in it too. “I… shall do my best to be so, my love.” He looked down at the tray. “I asked for a light breakfast this morning. Then, if it would please you, I thought we might go for a drive around the grounds, then return for a mid-morning tea.”

  Lily swallowed. “I would like that.”

  He clasped both her hands in his and bowed his head over them, as if he were praying, though he said nothing aloud.

  The meal was quiet, but perhaps a little less tense than before.

  When they had finished the last of their tea, she said, “I did have a gift for you.”

  He blinked at her, and said, “You didn’t…”

  “I wanted to,” she whispered. She stood and hurried to her room. From the trunk which still contained most of her belongings, she pulled the pen stand and pen that she had chosen for him, as well as the handkerchief she had embroidered.

  Her cheeks flushed pink when he accepted the gifts.

  “Thank you, Lily,” he said quietly. “These are lovely.”

  He offered her his arm; they descended the stairs and he took her to the front steps, where a bright little two-seat phaeton was ready for them. The horses were beautifully matched bays, and Theo stopped to stroke their noses and introduce Lily to them. He helped her up, then jumped in himself.

  The drive was quiet; Lily admired the extensive grounds, and admired Theo’s skillful hands as he drove. By the time they returned, she was getting a little hungry, and Theo had apparently planned for this too, for tea and cold meats and fruit and fancy cheeses she had never before tasted were waiting in a nearby alcove in the garden. Theo’s eyes scarcely left her, and whenever she looked at him, he smiled a little. It was not the effervescent joy she had always seen in him, but there was something familiar in it, and it reassured her.

  That morning set a routine for the next two weeks. She would wake to the sunlight, dress, and have breakfast with Theo. He invited her to enjoy the library, and she spent many afternoons in it, reading by the windows that looked out upon the formal garden to the north of the manor.

  He asked if there was anything she might like to do, and she answered that she enjoyed playing the piano. He immediately led her to the music room and let her know that she was welcome to play the beautiful piano therein.

  “Shall I play something for you now?” she asked with a smile.

  “If you wish.”

  Lily chose the most romantic music she knew, a delicate, sweet little portion of a larger movement in a concerto. She had never played it so well.

  When she looked up, Theo said quietly, “Thank you, my love. That was beautiful.”

  In the evening, they would eat either in a pretty little dining room on the west wing of the house, just the two of them, or in a larger dining room with Sir Theodore and Lady Overton. The meals were quiet and a little melancholy, marred as they were by the great, unknown hurt between them, but after that first breakfast, they were also careful and kind. Lily, though she felt wronged, appreciated the Overtons’ kindness all the more, for all of them, herself included, made an effort to speak of pleasant things.

  The third day after the wedding, Lady Overton asked her at dinner, “Theo told me you had been reading. Have you found a book you particularly enjoy?”

  Lily told them that Theo had invited her to read anything she liked, and she had found a history of Valestria that was educational, though rather dry. Theo was quiet, as he had been since the wedding, but he managed a wistful smile at this.

  The next morning, she found a well-worn book entitled The Pirate King of Wakelin on the low table in the shared space beside a fresh bunch of pink roses from pale shell-pink for innocent first love to a deep reddish-purple for passionate adoration. A few white sprigs of honeysuckle peeked out, signifying sweetness and the bond of love.

  That gesture, only four days after the wedding and the subsequent hurt, was immensely reassuring to Lily. She spent much of the day devouring the book, which was not only immensely entertaining, but shed new light on Theo’s character. She wasn’t entirely sure how to interpret what she’d learned, but it was decidedly different than the history book she had been attempting to slog through. There was a great deal of sword-fighting and several grand speeches, and a triumphant victory of the most heroic sort at the end. The most delightful part of the whole book was imagining Theo as a bright-eyed child, devouring this story, and others, full of gallantry and derring-do.

  “May I ask my fam
ily to tea soon?” Lily asked one morning about a week after the wedding.

  Theo blinked. “Of course. Please invite them whenever you wish. This is your home.”

  She swallowed, then nodded. “Thank you.”

  That very afternoon she sent a note to her family by way of Anselm, who gave it to one of the stable boys, inviting them to tea the following day, if they were free. Only a few hours later she received the reply stating that Oliver was committed to an afternoon lawn tennis tournament with several new friends, but her parents would be delighted to see her.

  The next morning she had breakfast with Theo again. He said, “Please convey my regrets to your parents; I have a commitment this afternoon that I must honor.”

  “I will, though I am sure they would have been delighted to see you.”

  “I am sorry I cannot be there.” He gave her a sweet, though slightly melancholy smile. “I do hope you have a lovely time.”

  “May I ask what your commitment is?” Lily ventured tentatively.

  He swallowed and looked down at the tea pot. “It is a private matter, my love. I will be honored to tell you, if it is ever possible.”

  She reached out to touch his hand, wanting to comfort him, though she didn’t understand why he might need to be comforted. “I understand.”

  He glanced up at her through his coppery lashes, then down at her hand. He bent to kiss her fingers and murmured, “Thank you, my love.”

  Shortly afterward he departed on his horse, looking tall and elegant and entirely untroubled by the distance between them.

  Her parents arrived not long after by way of a hired carriage. Anselm met Lily at the door as she hurried to greet them. As he opened the door for her, he said, “I will be delighted to take them home when your visit is completed, Mrs. Overton.”

  “Thank you, Anselm,” she replied.

  When her father helped her mother down from the carriage, Anselm repeated this offer to her father, who accepted and sent the driver back to town.

  “Anselm, would you mind showing us where we might have tea together?”

  “Not at all, Mrs. Overton.” He showed them to a sunny little sitting room that looked over a sheltered little patio and a bank of pink roses. “I will return with tea in a moment.” He let the door close quietly behind him.

  Lady Hathaway had already perceived that Lily was not quite as deliriously happy as everyone had expected her to be after such a beautiful wedding to a man obviously madly in love with her.

  “How are you, my darling?” she asked quietly. “You seem troubled.”

  Lily hesitated, then said, “I am not entirely sure, Mother.”

  At this moment Anselm returned with tea. He set out the tray and poured everyone’s first cup of a sweet-scented jasmine tea which paired perfectly with the accompanying petite flaky pastries topped with whipped cream and raspberries. Lily waited until Anselm bowed and departed, giving them a little privacy.

  “Did something happen?” asked her mother when they were alone.

  Lily took a sip of tea, considering her words. “Theo is desperately unhappy about something, and I think he believes it was my fault. But I do not know what it was, and he will not tell me.”

  Sir Jacob asked, “Has he been unkind to you?”

  “No, Father.” Lily blinked back unexpected tears, thinking of that first night, when they ought to have been so happy, and then putting the memory aside. “But it is so unlike him to be melancholy, and I do not know how to help him, or myself, find the happiness we both expected.”

  Sir Jacob gazed at her, and she knew he saw the tears in her eyes and the trembling of her lip. He put his hand over hers reassuringly.

  She brushed at her eyes and said, “I don’t even want to speak of it now. I’m sorry. I oughtn’t to have said anything.”

  Her father said quietly, “You don’t owe us an explanation, Lily. But we love you, and we want you to be happy.”

  “I am. I ought to be. He’s been so kind to me, even after… whatever happened.” She brushed tears from her eyes. “He sent his regrets, by the way. He was disappointed that he could not be here to see you.”

  She showed them around the gardens and to the library, then, after more tea and talk of the garden, they allowed themselves to be taken back to the city by Anselm. Lily wondered what Sir Theodore and Lady Overton would think she had told them, but at dinner that evening, both they and Theo merely asked if she had had a pleasant visit.

  Chapter 24

  The Children’s Home

  Every day, Theo met her for breakfast in their shared sitting room. He was always up before Lily, beautifully dressed and elegant, though several times he eschewed the formality of jacket and cravat.

  The shadow of grief over him seemed to fade. Lily was not sure whether it was truly receding, or whether he was becoming more able to feign something like his customary cheerfulness. The act was not entirely convincing; he was still quieter and more melancholy than she had imagined possible before the wedding, but he smiled sweetly at her and asked about her family, what books she was reading, and when he might take her on another carriage ride.

  One afternoon, Theo was returning from an errand in Ardmond on Pepper, a dapple gray mare with a nice smooth gait and a proud head. When he turned from the main road onto the long curving driveway to the Overton manor, he felt a faint unease in the magic of the land, and slowed. It was nearly impossible to sense the presence of human or Fair Folk in the human world; even in the Fair Lands it was challenging. So Theo slowed Pepper to a sedate walk and looked around as he passed between the birch trees.

  There, coming from the rear of the house around the western side, was Lord Ash Willowvale.

  Theo narrowed his eyes. What was the fairy doing at his house? In his garden?

  The fairy strode to the edge of the lawn, where he had left a horse tied to a maple tree. He untied it and mounted with admirable grace, then trotted up the drive.

  The moment he spotted Theo was clear; his sharp expression tightened, and his lips twisted in disdain.

  Theo bowed with exaggerated courtesy when Lord Willowvale was nearly past him. The fairy returned the faintest sketch of a bow but said nothing. Theo walked the grounds, trying to feel if the magic was different, but he could discern nothing.

  He spoke to Anselm later and asked how long Lily had spoken with Lord Willowvale.

  “I was not aware that she had,” said Anselm. “When do you mean?”

  “I saw him this afternoon in the garden. Did he not come to the house?”

  “He did not. I did not know he came, nor did your parents, as far as I am aware. Mrs. Overton spent much of the afternoon in the garden, but I did not see them together. I believed her to be reading.”

  Theo grew a little more pale, but said nothing.

  He asked Juniper whether he had seen Lord Willowvale, and the young fairy said that he had not. He had spent the afternoon in his suite engrossed in a book. His window had been open to let in the breeze, but Juniper himself had been out of sight on a low window seat.

  The very next morning Theo took Lily on a stroll through the garden. He offered his arm with his usual devoted courtesy and smiled when she accepted it. He matched his stride to hers and led her through the last of the late-blooming roses, where he pointed out lush blooms for her to smell.

  “What do you do, when you leave for the day?” she asked. She closed her eyes and smelled the white rose he had indicated.

  “I have business for my father, as well as my own pursuits,” he said. “Most of it is quite boring.”

  Lily glanced at him. He wore a faint, pensive smile that seemed so unlike the effervescent joy she had thought an essential part of him.

  She said tentatively, “I was wondering if I might be able to go back to the children’s home. It has been over a month since I was there, and I did so enjoy my time there.”

  Some odd tension passed over his face so quickly she wondered later whether she had imagined it. Then he
said, “I would be honored to take you myself, if you would like me to. My obligations today do not require me until late this afternoon.”

  “I would like that very much.” She smiled sweetly at him, hoping he would smile, which he did.

  They walked back to the manor, and at the door Theo said, “Please excuse me a moment. I will have the phaeton readied.”

  Soon they were on their way. Theo, now dressed for going out with jacket and cravat, was as elegant as usual. Lily had chosen a new green dress that coordinated nicely with his attire, yet she felt somehow shabby in comparison. He wore sophistication so naturally, as if it were part of him, and she was not yet entirely accustomed to it.

  Nonetheless, she felt a swell of delight as the phaeton set off. Theo drove them himself, and she admired his skillful, easy control of the horses and the strength and elegance of his hands. She snuck a furtive, admiring glance at his profile. Everything she saw pleased her: his straight, narrow nose, his refined jaw, the elegant angles of his cheekbones, and his delicate lips always ready to smile. Always, until now.

  “What are you thinking, my love?” he asked, glancing at her in turn.

  Heat rushed to her cheeks and she murmured, “I was… well, I was thinking how much I like sitting next to you.”

  He shifted the reins to one hand and took her hand in his to kiss it. “There is no place I would rather be than beside you, my love,” he murmured. There was the faintest catch in his voice.

  “What is wrong?” she whispered. “Why are you not happy with me? I thought… I thought you would be.”

  His jaw which she had so admired tensed almost imperceptibly; if she had not been looking so closely, she would have missed it.

  He said lightly, “I am happy with you, my love.” He caught up her hand again and kissed it, as if to prove his words true.

  Lily said nothing else, for she was afraid that if she did, she would weep in earnest. She did not want his false happiness; she wanted his trust and his delight, or if not his genuine delight, at least honest grief and the opportunity to repent of what she had done. She almost tried to carefully extract her hand from his, unable to bear the thought of pretend affection, but she could not quite convince herself to pull away from him first.