Hazel's Promise (The Fey Quartet Book 2) (8 page)

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Authors: Emily Larkin

Tags: #Romance, #Medieval, #Historical, #Fiction

BOOK: Hazel's Promise (The Fey Quartet Book 2)
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Sudden tears stung her eyes. She blinked them back.

Tam kissed her temple, and released her. “Father has a library. He likes books. We often have someone read aloud in the evenings.”

Hazel tried to imagine it: the Lord Warder’s great hall, shutters closed against the night, a fire burning in the huge hearth, candles flickering, people leaning back in their seats, listening.
One of those people will be me, soon
. Dappleward Manor would be her home. It was . . . not daunting, exactly, but it was definitely disconcerting.

Hazel ran a fingertip over the words on the open page—each letter was beautifully formed—loop of
g
, bold stroke of
l
—then closed the book and wrapped it back up: fine linen, sturdy cotton, and oiled cloth. Tam was like this parcel. On the outside he was plain, unassuming Tam No-Name, but beneath the layers of Tam Peddler and Tam Goodkiss was hidden Wistan Dappleward. And when you opened Wistan Dappleward and looked inside him, there was the greatest treasure of all: Tam Trueheart.

Hazel tilted her head and looked at Tam. “It’s a very fine gift; your father will be pleased to have it.” She reached out and touched his face, ran her fingers lightly over his cheek, felt the prickle of his whiskers. “But the gift you’re giving me is even finer.
You
are a gift beyond price.”

To her amusement, Tam blushed.

Hazel laughed. “I love you, Tam Dappleward,” she said, leaning over to kiss him. “And I pledge myself to you
forever
.”

 

THANK YOU

Thanks for reading
Hazel’s Promise
. I hope you enjoyed it!

If you’d like to be notified whenever I release a new book, please sign up for my New Release Newsletter, at
www.emilylarkin.com/newsletter
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or
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.

This book is lendable through the Amazon lending program. Please share it with a friend.

Hazel’s Promise
is the second novella in the Fey Quartet. The other novellas in the quartet are
Maythorn’s Wish
,
Ivy’s Choice
,
and
Larkspur’s Quest
. I hope you enjoy them all!

The Fey Quartet novellas are the prequel to the Baleful Godmother series. The first six books in the Baleful Godmother series are
Unmasking Miss Appleby
,
Resisting Miss Merryweather
,
Trusting Miss Trentham
,
Claiming Mister Kemp
,
Ruining Miss Wrotham
,
and
Discovering Miss Dalrymple
.

If you’d like to read the first chapter of
Ivy’s Choice,
the next novella in the Fey Quartet, please turn the page.

 

CHAPTER ONE

IVY LIMPED THROUGH
the forest, leaning on her crutch. Her sister Hazel walked alongside her, a basket slung over one arm. Ahead, the derelict woodcutter’s cottage peeped through the trees, a lopsided building with crooked shutters and threadbare thatching. Ivy glimpsed her youngest sister, Larkspur, sitting on the mossy doorstep, two large red-brown hounds at her feet.

“I see her,” Hazel said.

As if she’d heard Hazel, Larkspur turned her head and looked into the forest, directly at them.

She can’t see us yet or hear our voices,
Ivy thought.
But she senses us.

“Go ahead,” Ivy said. “Don’t wait for me.”

Hazel nodded, and picked up her skirts and ran ahead, the basket bouncing and swinging on her arm. “Larkspur!”

The hounds surged to their feet, barking.

Ivy hobbled as fast as she could, awkwardly navigated the gnarled roots of an oak, and came out into the sunlit clearing.

Larkspur ran to meet her.

Ivy hugged her sister tightly, while the hounds frisked around them like puppies.

Larkspur drew back. Tears were bright in her eyes.

Ivy smoothed Larkspur’s pale hair away from her face. “How are you, love?” She didn’t need to say the words aloud; Larkspur could hear them just as clearly unspoken as spoken. “The cottage hasn’t fallen down around your ears yet?”

Larkspur shook her head. Her face was thin, her cheeks almost hollow, her skin translucently pale except for the dark shadows beneath her eyes.

This gift is killing her
. Ivy tried to smother the thought, but it was too late. Larkspur had heard it. Her lips twisted in silent agreement.

“Five more days and it will be undone,” Ivy said.

Larkspur didn’t argue. She’d stopped arguing a week ago, driven half-mad by everyone’s thoughts pushing into her head.

Ivy limped across to the doorstep and awkwardly sat, stretching out her stiff leg. Larkspur and Hazel sat, too. The hounds settled at their feet. This should have been a happy moment, sitting in the sunshine with her sisters, but it wasn’t; the silence between them was strained and anxious, tense with everything that lay unsaid between them.

“No one’s found you?” Ivy asked finally.

Larkspur shook her head.

I hate the thought of you sleeping here, alone.

“I’m not alone,” Larkspur said. “I have the dogs. It’s quite safe. You think I wouldn’t know if anyone were nearby? How can I
not
know?” There was a bitter note in her voice.

Ivy put an arm around her sister’s thin shoulders.
Don’t hate yourself, Larkspur. The Faerie tricked you. It’s not your fault
.

She glanced at Hazel. Hazel was silent and tight-lipped. Ivy didn’t need to have Larkspur’s gift to know that she was angry.

Larkspur bowed her head. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Hazel said flatly. “It’s that bale-tongued creature’s, and I’ll
kill
her if
I—

“Hazel,” Ivy said.

Hazel shut her mouth, but anger still blazed in her eyes. Larkspur would be able to hear it.
No wonder she’s going mad
.

“You think I’d rather be without my sister than my crutch?” Ivy shook Larkspur gently. “Silly. Of course I wouldn’t!”

“I wanted you to walk.” Larkspur’s voice broke on the last word. She began to cry.

Both hounds sat up, anxious.

Ivy tightened her arm around Larkspur’s shoulders. “I’m used to this leg of mine. I never thought I’d be able to walk properly.”

“You did think so for the last month,” Larkspur sobbed.

“And not for the past twenty-one years,” Ivy said firmly. “Stop crying, love. It’s upsetting the dogs.”

Larkspur drew in a shuddering breath and wiped her eyes with her sleeve.

The misery on her face tore at Ivy’s heart. “I love you,” she said. “And when my birthday comes I shall be
glad
to use my wish for you. It will give me more joy than anything else could.”

Larkspur’s lips twisted bitterly. She could read Ivy’s thoughts; she knew she wasn’t lying.

“Eat,” Hazel said abruptly. “I want to see you eat something.” Her voice was rough and her eyes suspiciously bright.
She’s trying not to cry.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Eat!” Hazel shoved the basket towards Larkspur, her face fierce.

Larkspur obediently rummaged in the basket. She pulled out a slice of rye bread and nibbled on it.

They sat in silence while Larkspur ate. Ivy tried to bury her worry, so Larkspur wouldn’t sense it. She focused on the little clearing, on the summer-green grass and the buttercups nodding their bright heads in the faint breeze, on the warble of birdsong. Such a beautiful, golden summer’s day. Not long to her birthday. Five days. Five days until she received her Faerie wish.

Larkspur’s wish had been a disaster.
But mine will wipe it out. All will be well again
.

Larkspur finished the piece of bread. She rubbed her fingers on her skirt. “When Mother and Ren return from Dapple Weir . . .” she said, and then fell silent.

Ivy exchanged a glance with Hazel.

“Please don’t tell her.”

“We can’t hide this from her,” Ivy said gently.

“She’ll be so upset.” Larkspur pressed her hands to her head, her fingertips whitening with the pressure. “I couldn’t bear it if she came to see me!”

“We shan’t bring her,” Hazel said hastily. “I promise.”

Ivy nodded.
I promise, too,
she said silently.

Larkspur lowered her hands. Her face was wan and miserable. “I wis
h—
” She stiffened, and lifted her head, and stared intently at the forest. “There’s a man coming.”

Hazel stood hurriedly. “Someone we know?”

“I don’t think so.”

Ivy reached for her crutch and levered herself to her feet. “Whoever he is, we know he’s not an outlaw.”

Hazel cast her a grim look. “You think every man in the vale is trustworthy?”

“No. But I don’t think there’s a man in Dapple Vale foolish enough to go up against Bess and Bartlemay.”

Both hounds were on their feet, ears pricked and alert.

“Maybe,” Hazel said. “Maybe not.” She ducked into the cottage and emerged with a thick wooden stave in her hand.

“Something terrible has happened to him.” Larkspur pressed her hands to her temples as if trying to push the man’s thoughts out. “He’s mad with panic.”

“Is he dangerous?” Hazel demanded.

Ivy heard the crackle of someone blundering through the undergrowth. Bess took a stiff-legged step forward, her hackles up, a low growl rumbling in her chest.

“He’s terrified.” Larkspur’s eyes were squeezed shut, her face set in a grimace.

“Then he needs our help,” Ivy said. “Bess, Bartlemay—down!”

The hounds obeyed her, but their hackles didn’t lower, nor did their growling abate.

The snap and crack of breaking twigs came closer. Ivy saw a dark shape lurch between the tree trunks. She gripped her crutch tightly.
There’s nothing to be afraid of,
she told herself firmly.
Whoever this man is, he needs our help.

But the creature that burst into the clearing wasn’t a man. It was a deer.

Ivy stared at the animal. It was a young roebuck, chest heaving, eyes showing their whites, staggering, clearly close to collapse.

Hazel lowered her stave. “That is
not
a man.”

“It is!” Larkspur was weeping, clutching her head. “It’s a man inside.
It’s a man
.”

 

 

 

Like to read the rest?

Ivy’s Choice
is available
online
.

 

 

EMILY LARKIN GREW
up in a house full of books—her mother was a librarian and her father a novelist—so perhaps it’s not surprising that she became a writer.

Emily has studied a number of subjects, including geology and geophysics, canine behavior, and ancient Greek. Her varied career includes stints as a field assistant in Antarctica and a waitress on the Isle of Skye, as well as five vintages in New Zealand’s wine industry.

She loves to travel and has lived in Sweden, backpacked in Europe and North America, and traveled overland in the Middle East, China, and North Africa. She enjoys climbing hills, yoga workouts, watching reruns of
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
and
Firefly,
and reading.

Emily writes historical romances as Emily Larkin and fantasy novels as Emily Gee. Her websites are
www.emilylarkin.com
and
www.emilygee.com
.

Never miss a new Emily Larkin book! Sign up for the New Release Newsletter at
www.emilylarkin.com/newsletter
.

 

 

OTHER WORKS by EMILY LARKIN

THE BALEFUL GODMOTHER SERIES

 

THE FEY QUARTET (SERIES PREQUEL)

Maythorn’s Wish

Hazel’s Promise

Ivy’s Choice

Larkspur’s Quest

 

ORIGINAL SERIES

Unmasking Miss Appleby

Resisting Miss Merryweather

Trusting Miss Trentham

Claiming Mister Kemp

Ruining Miss Wrotham

Discovering Miss Dalrymple

 

OTHER HISTORICAL ROMANCES

 

The Countess’s Groom

The Spinster’s Secret

 

FANTASY NOVELS (WRITTEN AS EMILY GEE)

 

Thief With No Shadow

The Laurentine Spy

 

THE CURSED KINGDOMS TRILOGY

The Sentinel Mage
~
The Fire Prince
~
The Blood Curse

 

 

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

A NUMBER OF
people helped to make this book what it is. Foremost among them is my sterling developmental editor, Laura Cifelli Stibich, who made this story immeasurably better.

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