by A. W. Exley
“Ah, my brother!” Lettie teased on seeing him. “We are soon to add a sister to our little family.” She took hold of Dawn’s hand and held it out for Grayson’s inspection.
“My congratulations. I’m sure Jasper doesn’t deserve you.” The doctor kissed Dawn’s cheek and shook Jasper’s hand.
Then the porter helped Hector carry the luggage from cart to waiting train, and the moment had arrived to say goodbye.
Lettie hugged Dawn. “I will do my best for your family, just as you have for mine. And remember, you promised no final decisions on the wedding until I return.”
“I promise. I could not do it without you,” Dawn said.
The two women kissed, then Lettie moved to her brother. He frowned and tried to keep a stern look on his face, but it melted when she threw her arms around his middle and pressed her cheek to his chest.
“I will miss you, but I need to get away from this place and be useful,” she said against the fine wool of his frock coat.
“I know,” he said as he stroked her hair. “But you cannot stop me from worrying. This is a dangerous mission, Lettie, not some game. Never forget that.”
She drew a deep breath and leaned back to meet his worried grey eyes. “I was there. What they did to Julian is etched in my mind and can never be forgotten. If the Soarers had some hand to play in the death of Dawn’s parents, then I shall discover it.”
He nodded, satisfied, and kissed her forehead.
“I also think you need some private time with Dawn. I wouldn’t be surprised if you ship Elijah off to Oxford or Cambridge so the two of you can be alone in the house.” Her smile returned and she winked at her nephew.
“Not more schooling,” Elijah muttered as Lettie hugged her nephew. She was disturbed to note that he was now taller than her by a few inches. When had that happened?
Hatton picked up her carpet bag and stopped before Hector.
Hector wiped a tear from his eye. “You will come back to me, won’t you?”
The two had never been parted in forty years. Now Hatton would travel across England, from Cumberland to County Durham. Although it was less than a hundred miles as the raven flies, from the look on his face it may as well have been a journey across the widest ocean.
Hatton rolled her eyes, and then yanked his head down by pulling on his tie. She placed a kiss on his lips. “Of course I will you, old fool. Who else would want me?”
He replaced his sad face with a more stern countenance. “You’re a fine-looking woman, Marjory Hatton. When those men all come sniffing round you in Whiterock and Sunderland, you make sure you tell them you’re spoken for.”
She laughed and swatted his arm. “Fool,” she muttered, but she wiped a tear from her eye as she stepped up into the carriage.
They took seats on the platform side of the car. Lettie knelt on the padded bench and leaned out the window, waving as the engine pulled away. Only when their yellow-and-red-painted station had disappeared among the trees did she drop into her seat.
Lettie thought she would grow bored of the journey, but she delighted in the changing landscape outside her window. With each stop she drank in new faces and sights. Being back in the world and seeing people bustling about their lives revived her senses. If she pressed her face to the open window, the countryside even smelt different. Sometimes rich with hay being cut, other times sweetly scented by flowers or the rougher odour of cows.
“You must think me foolish, to be so excited over a ride train.” Lettie settled into the leather seat.
Grayson read a book across from her, but glanced at her across the top of the page. “Not at all. I think it’s marvellous to see the sparkle in your eyes.”
When she needed a break from the view outside the window, she turned to the one inside. Lettie was intimately familiar with Marjory, since the two women had been constant companions throughout the long imprisonment. Dr Grayson Day seemed achingly familiar, as though she had known him all her life, and yet that was impossible. He was human, not yet thirty, and had only been her physician for a handful of years.
As Ava had shredded her mind, Lettie was dimly aware that Jasper had engaged a doctor to tend her in her worse moments. She tried to think when the old one had retired and Grayson appeared. Her mind couldn’t grasp the timeline; she only knew that from the first day there had been a gentle reassurance about the young doctor. He cared for her like a sister, and she held affection for him similar to her feelings for Jasper.
“I confess to knowing little about you, doctor, for all the years we have been acquainted. Where did Jasper find you?” She studied his face with its finely trimmed moustache and strong lines. It seemed he had always been a part of her life, as though they were born siblings.
He placed a slim silver marker in his book and closed the volume. “I was born in the village. My father was your original physician. As a young boy, I used to play with Elijah while Father tended to you. Jasper paid for my education and medical training, and when Father retired a few years ago, I took over your care.”
Perhaps that was why he seemed so familiar. If the young child had run around the estate with Elijah, she might have spied him from her turret window. “Do you have a wife or fiancée in the village to tend your home while you are absent?”
The moustache twitched and he looked away. “No. I am quite committed to my work.”
That sounded rather lonely. Lettie intended to fully enjoy her freedom in County Durham, and her plans involved male companionship. Perhaps she might take a lover. Or three, even! How long had it been since a man lavished attention on her naked form? So long that she wondered if her virginity might have re-established itself.
“Perhaps you could advertise, like Jasper did. I’m sure Hatton and I could write an advertisement for you to place in the papers.” Lettie teased the doctor, but Jasper had found his mate through an advertisement. They obviously worked in some instances.
There was a fleeting sadness in Grayson’s hazel eyes before he angled his face away from her. “No, thank you.”
It was a long day with two changes of train before they finally pulled into Sunderland just as dusk descended. Their journey was made quicker thanks to the new Sunderland station that had only been opened the year before, in 1879. As they stepped down from the carriage, an older man stood on the platform. While he looked to be in his sixties with greying hair and a lined face, he had the height, broad shoulders, and bulk of a gargoyle hiding under his skin. His face lit up when he saw Lettie descend.
“Lady Letitia!” he called and removed the hat from his head.
“Samuel.” Lettie took his offered hand and he kissed her knuckles. “It has been far too long since I visited last. And you know you must call me Lettie.”
“It has been at least fifty years, I believe, since you were last here, and you are as beautiful as ever.” He waved to the porter and pointed to a waiting carriage, indicating for him to move their luggage from one conveyance to another.
“This is Doctor Grayson Day, my brother. Grayson, this is Samuel Thorne, our uncle.” Lettie gestured from one man to the other.
The Warder winked and shook hands with the doctor. “Of course, your brother. I didn’t recognise you, you have grown so.” Then his cheerful gaze turned to Hatton. “And who is this divine specimen of womanhood?”
Lettie nudged Hatton forward. “This is Marjory Hatton, my companion and chaperone.”
He took Hatton’s hand and lingered over his kiss to her knuckles. “Enchanté, madame Hatton.”
Hatton drew in a deep breath. “I’m sure the pleasure is all mine, Lord Thorne.”
Samuel laughed, a deep rumbling noise of rocks tumbling down a cliff. “I’m no lord. Just plain old Samuel if you don’t mind.”
“Samuel,” Hatton repeated. Rolling the sound around her tongue.
Lettie narrowed her gaze at the two. The old gargoyle better not entertain ideas of poaching Hector’s woman. She planned to see the two hitched when she returned
to Alysblud, and she didn’t want too many old dogs fighting over Hatton. On the other hand, a flirtation might be exactly what was needed to galvanise Hector into proposing.
“This way,” Samuel said and led the tired party to a large travelling carriage.
Lettie thought she remembered him having it last time she visited, which meant the vehicle was terribly old-fashioned. She smiled to think that as fashion changed, it affected not just how people dressed, but also their modes of transport.
Trains were new and frightening things back in 1840. Many people didn’t trust the engines not to explode. Rail tracks were only just beginning to appear in the countryside to link towns and cities. Now, the screaming metal engines were chugging to every distant corner, not just in England, but across the world. Whatever would people invent next?
“Whiterock is just two miles from Sunderland. Close enough to reap the benefits of the town, but far enough away to afford us some privacy. Until progress reaches us, that is.” Samuel tapped on the roof, and the driver cracked the reins. The carriage jolted as the horses leaned into the harness and the wheels began to roll.
Samuel Thorne occupied a modest home to the northwest of the bustling town. It was inland, far enough away from the noise and smoke of the busy shipbuilding yards by the port, but an easy drive back into town. Or an energetic walk if one felt so inclined.
“That’s Ocram and Lawson.” Samuel pointed out the window to a looming warehouse perched on the coastline. Slipways ran down to the water. “The Ocrams live over there.”
He pointed out the other side of the carriage to a house set on the tallest hill in the area. With tall turrets and spires, it looked like a fairy-tale castle. Or one where the evil queen dwelt.
“Soarers do like to perch on high ground,” Lettie said as she watched the gothic mansion roll past. Every window seemed lit, and it blazed with light as night fell. When you housed salamanders who could ignite anything, it probably saved on candles.
The carriage took a left hand fork in the road and headed toward a low range of hills. The Warder estate nestled with its back to a hillock. It was a far more modest home than the one occupied by the Soarers. The two-storey building was a gentle, middle-class manor made of solid stone and a shingle roof. The driveway curved in a semi-circle, and the carriage stopped by the front door. There was no portico to shelter under in bad weather, not that Lettie ever objected to being out in the rain.
A servant of similar vintage to Samuel rushed down the path and opened the carriage door. Then he swung out the steps.
Lettie smiled her thanks as she followed Samuel inside, where she found that here, at least, nothing had changed. The interior showed the evidence of having only a bachelor in residence for at least the last hundred years. It was clean, but shabby. The decor was ancient. The dark, panelled walls and whitewashed ceilings reminded Lettie of late Tudor times. Books covered every surface, many still open at a particular page and waiting to be picked up again.
“I’m sure you are all tired. I will show you to your rooms, and then I have arranged a quiet supper.” Samuel gestured for them to follow him upstairs.
The new brother and sister were given bedrooms at opposite ends of a corridor. Marjory had a smaller room located between the two. Even when she slumbered, she would be chaperone, keeping them apart. Luggage was hauled up the stairs and deposited with the correct person.
“I would like to go out to the caverns tomorrow, please,” Lettie said as her trunks were placed at the end of the bed.
“Of course. I will need to open the passage for you. Would you also like me to accompany you inside?” Samuel guarded a secret cavern that contained an underground lake.
Lettie shook her head. “No. I need to go alone.”
“Very well. Come down for supper whenever you are ready.” Samuel closed the door as he left her room.
She was given her regular bedroom that looked east. From her small balcony, she could see the ocean in the distance like a silver ribbon stretched out along the horizon. While the undine within her delighted in having such an expanse of water so close, it didn’t settle her nerves as much as a lake or a river. Her natural affinity was to fresh water, not salt.
Lettie dismissed the maid who hovered wanting to help. She preferred to unpack her clothing herself. The process of folding and sorting soothed her mind. She was miles from Ravenswing Manor, Ava was defeated, and at long last they would begin the journey to avenge Julian.
Yet still something niggled in her mind. A tiny worm that squirmed and fought to escape its burrow. Try as she might, she couldn’t put her finger on what bothered her. It would come. The cleansing waters would wash away the last traces of Ava’s poison, and she would be finally be free.
And alone.
5
The next morning, it took Lettie a few moments to adjust to different faces around the breakfast table. For years she had seen only Marjory, Elijah, and Jasper. Now there was the worn face of Samuel and the younger, and more handsome, countenance of Grayson.
“Did you sleep well?” Samuel asked as she took a seat.
“Yes, thank you.” Events had exhausted her more than she realised, and despite the change in surroundings, Lettie slept soundly.
How long had it been since she went to bed and slept? For years her nights had been dominated by the drilling in her head, and the only way to find relief had been to scream. As though her voice were a pressure valve, the pain only diminished when she cried out as loud as she could. Ava had commanded her vines with a swipe of her hand, so perhaps she had listened out in the garden and only let go of her puppet in Lettie’s head when she had inflicted enough torment for one night.
Samuel seemed particularly solicitous of Marjory, who giggled like a young woman and fluffed her napkin at the old Warder. Grayson smiled behind his moustache and tea cup, but Lettie frowned. She was all for a harmless flirtation, and she certainly hoped to engage upon a few herself while in Sunderland, but Marjory needed to remember who held her heart.
“Do you think Hector is coping without you, Marjory?” Lettie asked as she selected a piece of toast.
“It won’t hurt the old dog to have a few cold nights on his own.” Marjory’s chin tilted upward.
“What’s this? Not a husband scanning the horizon for your return, I hope?” Samuel winked at Marjory.
“Husband? Certainly not. Just someone who needs to learn he is not the only option available to me now.” Marjory cast a glance at Samuel that was worthy of any coquette.
Lettie would most definitely have to watch that particular situation before it got out of hand.
“Shall we head out to the cavern after breakfast?” she asked of Samuel, steering the subject away from the nurse’s romantic entanglements.
“If you wish,” he replied.
“What is this cavern you plan to visit?” Grayson asked. A faint frown pulled between his brows as though he had to dispense some brotherly approval over the excursion.
Lettie buttered her toast and then reached for the jar of jam. “It is a secret that Samuel guards. This area has an underground lake. We call it Gaia’s Sorrow, and it is said to contain all her tears collected over the centuries.”
“That’s beautiful,” Marjory whispered.
Lettie flashed her a smile. The cavern was beautiful, but only a select few would ever see it. “I believe swimming there will remove the last of Ava’s hold on me. The waters are known for their restorative powers.”
“Is it safe? Perhaps I should accompany you?” Grayson seemed to be embracing his role of pretend brother by asking the sort of questions Jasper would in the same situation.
Lettie rolled her eyes as she ate her toast. Brothers could be insufferably overprotective at times. “I am an undine. It’s not like I am at risk of drowning. I will also be swimming nude. Perhaps that is slightly more of a sister than a brother should see?”
The moustache quivered behind the cup, and the doctor’s eyes widened. “I cannot
help but worry after being your physician for so many years. But I can see that would not be appropriate. I shall entrust you to Samuel’s care and hope the swim restores you, Lady Letitia.”
Lettie bit down on toast to cover her smile. There was a delicious pleasure in teasing a handsome man. Was he now imagining her naked and gliding through her element with decidedly unbrotherly thoughts? Could a doctor even view her naked form with a male gaze, or would his training override such desires, and he would see only a patient who needed healing? “There is something else we must discuss. You are supposed to be my brother, so you cannot continue to call me Lady Letitia. You will have to address me as Lettie.”
“You are quite right, Lettie.” Grayson nearly stumbled over her name and the last syllable seemed to get caught in his moustache. “If there is a gig I could borrow, Nurse Hatton and I could take a drive to survey the shipyards and familiarise ourselves with the lie of the land, as it were.”
Samuel waved to his man, standing by the doorway. “Of course. I’ll have it harnessed for you.”
After breakfast, Grayson helped Marjory into a little gig and they set off.
Samuel’s man appeared from around the side of the large barn carrying two dead weasels by their long necks. He held up their sleek bodies. “Found two more this morning.”
“Damn seekers,” Samuel muttered as he finished saddling the horses.
“We rarely find any in Alysblud. The Hamiltons think us not worth the effort. The Ocrams must believe you are hiding something to keep sending them here,” Lettie said.
Just as the Warders had their servants, the watchers, so too did Soarers have creatures to do their bidding. Weasels, stoats, rats, and mice were their seekers of secrets, scurrying into dark corners to overhear private conversations.
