Arcana (22 page)
Authors: Jessica Leake
“Thank you, my lord,” I say, warmth spreading throughout my body.
“I’m quite serious,” he says. “It would be my pleasure.”
I smile. “Be assured I will call if I need you.”
He touches my cheek before knocking lightly on the door. It’s opened after a moment by a sleepy-eyed servant. It makes me grateful I didn’t give in to my urge to kiss him again—the servants would all know about it by morning.
“Good night, Miss Sinclair.”
“Good night, my lord.”
I rush up the stairs before the butler can become awake enough to notice my mussed hair and lips.
FIFTEEN
T
HE
next morning, I am so lost in the recesses of my own mind I can scarcely carry on an intelligent conversation. On the one hand, Lord Blackburn’s attack causes me to jump at every noise. Every time I think of his hands and mouth on me, my stomach threatens to empty itself. I want to believe Lord Thornewood’s threats will keep him at bay, but I cannot be sure. Especially since he has tasted my power. A shudder racks my body, and I rub my arms.
In the end, I always return to the same question: what am I to do? How can I guarantee he will never violate me in such a way again? Though my mother was the one with the gift of prophecy, I can still say with relative certainty he will not give up so easily.
But then my mind turns to thoughts of Lord Thornewood. Where before thoughts of him were intrusive, I find these thoughts very welcome indeed. I blush. Am I so brazen, then? That a shared kiss with a gentleman changes my opinion of him? But no, I know it isn’t the only thing. I think of the times he stood up for me against Eliza—even when I didn’t realize he was doing so.
I can’t stop touching my lips, and my cheeks seem to have a permanent blush as I remember how close we were. I could feel every inch of his body—a body that was much more muscular and hard than one would expect of an aristocrat.
Of course I cannot simply bury what happened with Lord Blackburn—much as I’d like to. Perhaps I should send for Robert? But no, I wouldn’t want to keep him from his studies. And I refuse to send a letter to my father begging him to let me come home; I’ve surprised myself in realizing I’m not ready to give up on London just yet, especially with Lord Thornewood and my relationship becoming so much more . . . intimate.
Intimate, and yet, he does not know the truth about me. Would he be so interested if he knew I was only half human? That Lord Blackburn had attacked me as much for my body as for my power?
I glance at the clock on the mantle. Another hour until I am to meet him in Hyde Park. I pick up my mother’s journal, almost too afraid to see what other warnings it may reveal. I open the book and watch as words appear on the creamy pages.
My dearest Katherine,
Though my gift of prophecy has certainly proved useful in many instances, it often only leaves me frustrated. I see so many lovely things for you in your future, but also great hardship. Because I can never know which future will come to pass, I am left only giving you vague warnings.
Long ago, when I was young and naive, I thought my gift gave me power over the future. During my first visit to this world, on the estate in which I stayed, I met a young farmhand. He was so kind to me, though I know he must have thought I was touched in the head. I knew very little of the ways of the world, you see, and even the cows he milked were strange to me.
My vision of his death came to me during my second visit with him. I can still remember the sweet smell of the hay we sat upon. I saw him thrashing in the middle of the pond, and, later, lying on the ground with soaking wet clothes. His face was gray. The vision brought tears to my eyes, for even in knowing him just a short time, I knew he was a beautiful soul. I asked him if he knew how to swim, and he told me he’d always been afraid of the water. I took it upon myself to teach him, and soon, he could dive to the very bottom effortlessly. We celebrated with a feast of freshly baked bread and cheese, talking and laughing well into the evening.
He nearly died the next day. I had succeeded in changing his future: he did not die by drowning. Instead, a sudden gust of wind caused him to fall from the roof of the barn he loved so much. He was barely breathing when I found him, and in my arrogance, I believed I was powerful enough to heal him without consequence. I was able to steal him from Death, but the cost was great for me. I lay unconscious and lifeless for several days; it was as if Death wanted to take me instead. When I finally recovered, I vowed I would never fall victim to my own arrogance again. I held true to this vow until I faced a vision I would do anything to prevent from coming true. The cost of this decision was, ultimately, my life.
So now you see, my darling Katherine, why this gift is also my greatest burden.
All my love,
Mama
I think of saving Robert from a terrible fall; would I not have done anything to save him? I cannot imagine what my mother must have gone through in seeing the futures of those around her, unable to change them. But what vision did she see that led her to endanger her own life?
I start to close the journal, but then I see it. Another rune. It’s been so long since one appeared, I almost gave up hope of seeing another. This one is by far the simplest, only a series of three parallel lines.
With a deep breath, I press my finger to the lines. Instantly, a map appears before me. No village names, no cities, no countries. Only a dark, meandering line, and the words: The Great North Road.
The vision of her realm, the rock formation, and The Great North Road. Mama has given me the keys to finding the entrance to her realm, I’m sure of it.
A loud rap on my door causes my whole body to jerk as if I’ve been stung. My grandmother’s voice calls out in an angry tone, “Katherine, open this door at once.”
My stomach sinks with the horrible realization I haven’t spoken to her since last night, when I left without her permission.
I open the door, and she bursts into my room. Her expression is so angry I wince. How could I think I’d escape her censure?
“So you
are
here,” she says, her voice as ominous as a black sky.
“Lord Thornewood was kind enough to bring me home.” I’m not sure if this would help or hurt my case since she’d either think it was wonderful—or scandalous.
“I’m not sure how you managed that,” she says snidely, “since every effort I’ve made to throw you into the path of a suitor has been ruined. Lord Blackburn was said to be quite put-out at the end of the night.” She paces about the room. “And how do you think I felt when I discovered my granddaughter wasn’t even there anymore? Humiliated doesn’t begin to describe it.”
True to character, she wasn’t worried or concerned for my safety or possible whereabouts. Her only concern was for herself.
“I’m very sorry for inconveniencing you,” I say, my tone stiff. “As for Lord Blackburn, I care not a whit for his state of mind.”
“Hateful girl! How could you say such a thing? A gentleman—a
baron
, no less—has shown great interest in you and may have even offered for your hand in marriage.”
I fight down the panic at the thought of marrying such a man. “I’ll not have him.”
My grandmother draws herself up and raises her hand as if to slap me, but she stops herself at the last second. I flinch despite myself.
“Lord Thornewood has also shown interest in me,” I say, inwardly cringing as I dangle Lord Thornewood’s noble status before my grandmother as though he means no more to me than bait on a hook. “Surely you can agree that an earl is a far better catch.”
Her eyes narrow. “Has he proposed?”
“Well, no—”
“Then do not speak to me about his superior title until he has.” She turns on her heel and leaves in a huff, but stops at the entrance to my room. “I trust you know you won’t be allowed to leave this house until I say otherwise.”
“Grandmama, please,” I say, swallowing my pride. “I sincerely apologize for leaving without your knowing last night. It was—wrong of me.” I don’t bother with an explanation. I can’t bring myself to tell her of what transpired between Lord Blackburn and me. In truth, I’m afraid of her reaction.
She pauses. “Why should I forgive you? You’ve made a terrible mess of things, and now I am left to clean it up.”
“Because no one but Lord Thornewood knows I went home unchaperoned. And because he asked me to meet him at Hyde Park this morning. I still have a chance to redeem myself.”
She tilts her head, considering. Several moments pass before she says, “Your apology is accepted but I cannot chaperone you today. I have business I must attend to.”
She turns as if to leave, and I have to think fast. “Lucy can come with me—she’s been desperate for some fresh air.”
Her pause seems to take years. “I suppose that would be alright.” Her gaze falls sharply on my dress. “The green velvet riding habit would be a better choice.”
She leaves, and I rush to Lucy’s room.
“Luce,” I say, and her eyes meet mine in the mirror. Her lady’s maid gives me a smile and a bob of her head as she continues to style my sister’s hair. “You must come with me to Hyde Park.”
“Must I?” she teases.
“Lord Thornewood has asked me to meet him there this morning, but Grandmama refuses to chaperone me.”
“And she will allow me to substitute?”
“Yes—I told her how badly you wanted to get out of the house. You know how she lives to make you happy.”
“Of course I’ll come. But can we take the phaeton?”
I nod. “It’s of no consequence to me, but it’s been ages since I’ve driven.”
Her smile is sly. “I’m sure you’ll be able to control the horses.”
“Hm,” I say, my mind already miles away at the park, “we’ll see. I’m going to go ask the grooms to pull it ’round.” Nervous energy quickens my pace as I think of laying eyes on Lord Thornewood again.
“Thank you for accompanying me, Luce,” I say as I carefully guide the horses through London’s narrow streets. “In truth, I have ulterior motives.”
Lucy smiles teasingly. “Of course. You needed someone to come with you to meet Lord Thornewood.”
“Well, yes, but I also discovered another rune.”
She lets out a little sound of excitement. “Another? What did this one look like?”
“Three parallel lines, one on top of the other. It showed me a vision of The Great North Road on a map.”
“I know this one, too! It means ‘the way.’”
“I believe Mama wants me to know how to enter her realm,” I say. I sneak a glance at Lucy. It was harder than I thought to admit that aloud.
“It does seem like it,” she says slowly. “Oh, but Wren, we must be careful. If Mama could never return, how do you think they’d react if one of us went through?”
My shoulders drop a bit. “You’re right, of course. It’s just . . .” I let my words fall away, since it’s so difficult to express this
need
I have to see our mother’s realm.
Lucy puts her hand on mine. “I feel it, too, you know. That longing. But then I think of Papa, or you and Robert, or what Mama always said, and it disappears. We can never miss what we’ve never had, right?”
“Then why show me at all?”
Lucy has no answer for me, and I didn’t expect her to.
When we arrive at the park, it’s as crowded as ever. I keep the horses close to the edge of the road so others can pass without jostling us. I steer toward the little copse of trees near the river, scanning for signs of Lord Thornewood.
“Are you ready to tell me why you’re so excited to meet Lord Thornewood? I thought you didn’t care for him.”
I give her a sly smile. “Well, perhaps things have changed.”
She grins like a five-year-old who’s been handed a new toy. “I knew it. Have you finally admitted to yourself you care for him?”
“You could say that.” My mind drifts to the night before, to our kiss, and the feel of his body pressed against mine.
“You didn’t tell me I’d be burdensome when you invited me.”
I shake free of my thoughts and glance at my sister. “You will
never
be a burden. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather spend the day with—Lord Thornewood included.”