“You’d better get cleaned up as well, then. Apparently we’ll be going to a ball.”
Chapter 24
Freshly scrubbed and dressed in their parents’ old finery, they stood and watched the carriage leave. Even the gait of the horses seemed angry as they charged away from the estate. Owen realized Ariana had taken his hand and he shook it off to half-heartedly galumph after the carriage. Did he hope Maria might look out the window or call for the carriage to stop because she’d made a mistake?
He stopped following when it rounded the curve, leaving nothing but a bit of dust that quickly settled. As if she’d never been there at all.
“She didn’t make a mistake,” he said to himself. If only, if only, if only… He didn’t know where to start his long list of regrets.
Ariana caught up with him and pulled him by the sleeve to the nearest rose garden. The front drive was littered with patches of red, yellow, pink, white, and every hue in between. He vaguely remembered the gardens being more neatly ordered and manicured, but his mother seemed to like them wild and they’d spread over the years. His father didn’t like flowers at all, merely tolerated them for the sake of the house. Owen had caught him scowling at an overflowing vase more than once in his life. The smells of the show-offy blooms nearly knocked him over, but Ariana breathed them in as if it gave her life.
“Let’s sit for a while, shall we?” she asked, voice laced with misery.
He felt a headache coming on from the suffocating blooms but sat beside her on an ancient wrought iron bench. They were silent for a long time, stunned by everything that had happened and anxious about what they had to do.
“I’m worried for my father,” he finally admitted. His own sorrows were too jumbled to voice. “Do you think he’ll be all right?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “But he got to speak to your sister again. That’s something.”
Something good or something bad, though? They all traipsed to the grave together once a year on Lucy’s birthday, but he knew his father went more often than that on his own. Owen always wondered how he stood up to the half-sister he never knew. Did his father wish he could trade them out?
He shook his head, shoving away his selfish thoughts. Those were his own worries and fears, and he was mostly sure they were unfounded.
“How awful though,” he said. “After all these years he must have had some kind of peace about losing her, and then she turns up again.”
“But not really,” Ariana said, seeming to understand. “Do you think he’s comforted that she’s one of them?”
He frowned at the way she said it, but he felt quite the same. More confused and frightened than ever by their existence. Lucy had meant well and wreaked havoc all the same. But she’d saved Maria. And Ariana. Or had that been him? Once again he wished he’d never found that horrible book, never knew what he was. That had been all Lucy’s well-meaning interference.
“Do you think that will happen to us?” he asked, not having any clue about his father’s state of mind and not wanting to speculate.
“God, I hope not. Do you think Maria will ever speak to me again?” Ariana changed the subject with a shudder.
He shrugged. “She might.” He doubted it, though. “She’ll never speak to me again, though.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. Then started to cry. A snivel at first but soon it was loud, snorting sobs that shook her shoulders. “I ruined everything. It’s no wonder people want me dead.” She wiped her face with both hands but the tears came like a flash flood. “I’m so - so… awful.” The last word lasted all of ten seconds as she wailed.
He couldn’t help it, he laughed. He was exhausted and all his compassion was gone. She punched him on the arm, hard enough to cut his laughter into a yelp of pain. He stood up and strode away from her, kicking at a thorny yellow rose that tried to catch his trousers.
“Bloody hell, Ariana.”
The dramatic sobs turned into a steady stream of crying that she tried to muffle with her overskirt. With her face covered and her petticoats showing she looked like the skinny girl who used to run through the forest with him, bossing him around and tormenting the wildlife. He couldn’t remember a time he hadn’t known her. He sat back down beside her and patted her shoulder.
“No one loves me,” she said, muffled by fabric.
“That’s idiotic,” he replied.
“My parents have to love me.”
“My parents don’t have to love you.”
“I think they only just pity me.”
“You’re being a bit pitiful right now. Really, stop this.” He stopped patting and tried to pull the skirt from her face. She looked a fright and he bit back the urge to tell her so.
“People love you,” she said.
“I got banished from my own family’s village and my betrothed not only couldn’t leave me fast enough, she wouldn’t glance in my direction before she went.”
She sighed and wiped her nose with a handkerchief she pulled out of her sleeve. “Lucy got you banished. And Maria never really loved you,” she said, holding up her hand to keep him from saying anything. “And that was because you never gave her a proper chance. She would have, though, if you’d been yourself. I’m sure of it.”
“That’s kind of you.”
“But I was being myself and still no one loved me. Which means I’m unloveable.” More tears flowed and she made no effort this time to check them. Her sodden handkerchief hung limply from her fingers.
He rubbed his aching head and looked around him at the beauty that had always surrounded him. The rainbow of fragrant roses, the verdant forest, his beloved animals, the fields. And the luxurious house that he’d grown to believe was truly his. The very best times he’d had here had always been with Ariana. Everything in London had been false, made worse by his prideful lies.
“I love you,” he said. He shook his head when that only made her cry harder. He wouldn’t stoop to trying to convince her. “Do you remember that rabbit that bit you when we were wee children?”
She stared at him in astonishment as if she couldn’t believe he would remind her of such a thing. “Yes,” she said feebly, rubbing at her arm where he knew there was a scar the rabbit had left behind. “Even the animals hate me. And I always loved them so.”
He took the handkerchief from her and wiped her nose to little avail. She snorted and shuddered and looked at him as if the world were about to end. Shouldn’t he be the one crying to her? The love of his life had left him only minutes before, and she truly despised him. He was the one who was truly despicable. He found that thinking about Maria hating him didn’t stab and tear the way he thought it would. Only apathy and a bone deep tiredness remained.
He deserved to be hated, if he was honest. Whether his intentions were good or not, the outcome had been all bad. Ariana’s intentions with her strange following had been good as well. She’d made a lot of people’s lives better in her own bossy, selfish way. She hadn’t deserved to be plotted against.
“You may have loved them,” he said, “but you didn’t care what they really needed. That rabbit, and the owlet, and that family of mice you trapped. I told you and I told you they weren’t fit to live in your cages. It didn’t matter how much food or warm blankets you gave them. You weren’t letting them live the way they were meant.”
She sniffed. “Are you saying I caged Nick?”
He nearly let out a growl when he heard her say the bastard’s name. The thought of Nicholas Kerr and how he’d wronged Ariana made him clench his fists with fresh rage. She didn’t really love him, she couldn’t have. He didn’t like thinking she was the sort who could be charmed by a handsome face, but it was better than thinking she’d actually loved that worthless clod.
“And why would Milo want to kill me? Why? I don’t know what I ever did to them.” She took a deep shuddering breath. “Why am I so thoroughly unlovable?”
He wished he could tell her she was being overly dramatic. But someone she tr
usted had tried to kill her. “People don’t kill other people because they don’t love them.”
“No, they do it because they hate them. That’s worse.”
“They do it for a lot of reasons. He was an evil man. Greed and love of power don’t mix well with evil.”
“He never seemed greedy or evil. He was kind and helpful. I don’t understand this at all. I only ever wanted any of them to be happy and comfortable and free to practice.”
He sighed and took her hand, not letting her squirm away. For being the cleverest person he knew, she was also the stupidest. Or perhaps just the most naive.
“You tried to cage a wild animal again, Ariana,” he said gently. “A beautiful, spacious cage but a cage all the same. And this time you put a whole load of them together and expected everything to be wonderful just because you gave them nice things and rich food.”
“No one was a prisoner there,” she said. “Most of the people who turned up had nothing. They should have been—”
“Grateful?” he asked sardonically. “Like all those rabbits and pigeons you tried to tame that ended up biting you or pecking you and escaping the first chance they got?”
She wiped her face with her sleeve and finally looked at him. “You make it sound so pathetic. I only wanted us to be together. A family. We were all the same.”
“You had the same abilities maybe, but they could have been rotten to the core. That Milo chap clearly was. Whatever reason he thought he had for trying to kill you, it wasn’t a good one and you aren’t to blame. And you aren’t unlovable.”
He thought he’d made a very good speech and expected her to smile and dry her tears, maybe hug him. Instead, she yanked her hand away and cried harder. He sat there gaping at her, completely lost as to what he’d said wrong. Finally, she turned to him with big, anguished eyes and shook her head.
“I’m sorry for ruining everything with you and Maria,” she sobbed.
Now he knew she was being overly dramatic. “What have you got to be sorry about?” he demanded. “You were trying to help with the healing spell. I’m the one who accidentally hit her with whatever it is that came out of me.”
“Not that. Not the spells. I’m- I’m the one who told everyone you weren’t rich. I’m awful.” She gripped her skirts and twisted them so angrily he thought she might rip the heavy fabric. “I’m the one who’s rotten. It wasn’t a slip of the tongue. I was in a hateful mood and jealous and turned ugly. Maybe I’ve always been ugly and it only came out at that moment. But I’m truly sorry, Owen. Truly, truly sorry.”
She continued to cry while he stared at her, turning over her confession in his mind. Trying to make sense of it. If no one in London had found out the truth about his situation in life, everything would be different.
No, that wasn’t right. Not at all. Did he expect to keep Maria and her family and indeed the whole of society under a spell for the rest of their lives? It all would have gone to hell eventually, with or without Ariana’s cruel meddling. And it was cruel. A betrayal like none he’d ever experienced. But ultimately, he was the one at fault.
“I’m a bit angry right now,” he said honestly. Her shoulders rocked with fresh sobs and she nodded. “But I’m glad you’re alive. I’m glad we’re together again.” He paused and mulled his next words carefully, digging deep into his heart. “It was a bratty, despicable thing to do, but my hands weren’t clean either. You couldn’t have exposed my lies if I hadn’t lied in the first place.”
“You forgive me?” she asked, trying to catch her breath and stop the river of tears.
He sighed. “I always forgive you. For everything you’ve ever done and everything you’ll do—”
“I won’t,” she butted in. “I won’t be awful anymore, I promise.”
“Of course you will. But I don’t care.”
“It’s nice that you accept that I’m unlovable.”
He took her shoulders and shook her the tiniest bit, trying to convey his feelings in one stern look. “You’re not unlovable, Ri. Not to me. Say it again and I’ll make you sorry for it.”
She let out one last sob and leaned over, wiping her face on her skirts again. Her mother’s gown was going to be a sodden mess if she didn’t dry up soon. Thankfully, she tipped her face to the side and smiled tremulously up at him. “I love you too, Owen.”
He blushed and rolled his eyes. He supposed that nearly being murdered made one mushy and maudlin. She kept looking at him, all of a sudden very intense. There was something in her eyes he couldn’t read.
She reached up and put a hand on each side of his face, leaned in, and kissed him softly on the mouth. She lingered there for a moment as his mind went blank and his heart raced. She finally pulled away and gave him a questioning look.
“What in bloody hell was that?” he demanded. His lips tingled and his stomach felt like all the butterflies in the garden had taken up residence there.
Her face turned purple. “I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t say you had to be sorry. I was just taken aback.”
“Was it awful?”
“No, but why? What were you thinking?” He touched his lower lip, not wanting to erase the feeling that was left behind by her kiss, but wanting to keep it there. It hadn’t been awful at all. Far from it. After everything he’d been through the last few weeks he didn’t think he could be so shocked as he was right then.
She shrugged. “I wanted to see what it would be like. And I didn’t want the only person I ever kissed to be…” He didn’t think she could have turned a darker shade of embarrassment but she did. “Oh, forget I said that. No, don’t. I want you to know that I never— nothing untoward happened between Nick and I. I’m still—”
“Bloody hell,” he interrupted, unable to stop swearing at her actions and announcements. “Stop right there. I don’t care to know. In fact, I don’t care at all.”
“Oh. Well, then,” she said in a tiny voice, looking stricken.
He realized how it must have sounded, especially after what she’d just done. Was the kiss a confession of some kind? Or had it been as she said and she only wanted to erase that other man’s touch? He hated that thought with a burning fire.
“I only meant it doesn’t matter,” he explained. “Not that I don’t care.” The stricken look increased and he groaned. “I mean it doesn’t matter to me. You’re still you no matter what you’ve done or haven’t done or will do or won’t do. Didn’t we just discuss all this a few minutes ago?”
“Do you think you’d want to do it again?” she asked, making his head spin.
“You’re awfully forward since you’ve been living on your own in the future,” he said.
Before she could answer, Aunt Tilly hurried up to the edge of the rose garden and waved at them.
“Looks like we have to go.” Ariana stood up, clearly happy to end the conversation before she could dig herself in any deeper.
He grabbed her hand quickly before she charged up toward the house. “Wait. About that last question.” Her eyes widened and he grinned. “I’ll surprise you.” He let go of her hand and hurried ahead of her so she could be embarrassed in peace.
Chapter 25
Ariana hugged her mother another time before pushing her out the door. She refused to think it was the last time she’d hug her. Owen was getting similarly fussed over. Uncle Kostya kept thinking of bits of advice and Aunt Serena couldn’t seem to let go of him. Two of her little dogs circled his feet as if even they were afraid for him.
“We should go,” Ariana said.
It felt odd to say it. They wouldn’t be going anywhere, not really. But while they’d be in the same room as they started, if it worked they’d be far out of reach.
“Yes, she’s right,” her mother said, sounding anything but convinced.
Ariana could see the war she was waging in her mind. She didn’t want to let her go, but was helpless otherwise. For some reason this strengthened Ariana’s spine. She would not let her mother down.
Aunt Serena scooped up the dogs and they all made their way down the winding stairs. They had decided the best place to keep hidden from the past inhabitants would be one of the underused attics. It was stuffy and dusty and Owen couldn’t stand to his full height due to the slant of the roof above them, but empty save for a broken chair. It was just too difficult to get anything up all the stairs required to get in there and it would have been terribly cruel to use it as servants’ quarters. It was perfect for their plan.
They waited until they couldn’t hear their parents’ footsteps anymore and then Ariana got out the small velvet bag she kept her special herbs in. It was embroidered with her initials, a gift from her mother on her tenth birthday. She smoothed the skirt of the old gown, fluffing the part that was still a bit damp from crying into it.
“You’re stalling,” Owen said.
“Is it that obvious?”
“But why? You’ve done it dozens of times, right?”
She swallowed as her stomach did one of its many turns of the last hour while they prepared. And she still felt a little awkward around him since her brazen and wholly unplanned kiss. She tossed that aside. It was Owen, and they had a job to do. Her stomach flipped again.
“But this time it’s so serious. I can’t make a mistake. It’s not like being late for a luncheon. My father might kill someone.” She whispered those last words, still unable to believe it about him.
He sighed and patted her arm, then his expression grew serious. “Listen, I don’t feel any different after what Lucy did—”
“Why should you? You weren’t possessed.” Ariana didn’t understand where this line of conversation was going but she was so anxious with everything that was on the line that she didn’t mind the distraction.
He goggled at her. “Didn’t you hear her at the cemetery? She gave me her powers.”
Ariana blinked rapidly, trying to remember. The whole thing had happened so fast and she’d mostly been worried about Maria collapsing. But Lucy had said something along those lines, hadn’t she?
Belmary House 6 Page 21
