Suspicion (20 page)

Without thinking, I reach down to toss the branch aside. As my hand brushes the dirt, the fallen branches and dead plants disappear into thin air. Sebastian lets out a sharp breath.

“Sorry.” I laugh nervously. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

I feel a light pressure on my hand, and I realize with a shock that he’s taken hold of it.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s amazing.”

I gaze at him gratefully. He can’t know what a relief it is to see him witness the most secret part of me, and then look at me in awe rather than fear.

“Thanks.” I smile. “I have to admit, I’m starting to become a little more intrigued by what I can do.”

“You should be! By the way, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Rockford Manor’s gardens look so … alive.”

“Yeah, apparently my talents have seeped into the grounds since I’ve arrived,” I reply. “Max said the same thing to me last week. I think he suspects something.”

Sebastian’s eyes lock with mine.

“Can you trust him?”

“I think so,” I say slowly. “I mean, I’m not going to volunteer any information. But I think he’s okay.”

“Good.” Sebastian nods, and I feel strangely giddy about his protective stance.

We walk forward together, our shoes rustling against the overgrown weeds that litter our path. Every few minutes I reach down to touch the earth, and the obstacles in front of us disappear.

“What does it feel like when you do that?” Sebastian asks, watching me curiously.

“You can see for yourself if you want.” I take his hand as casually as I can manage and place it over mine. Together, we reach for one of the hedge walls. I hear his breathing grow heavier; I feel my own breath stop as our fingers interlace against the evergreen. And then the electric sensation sizzles through my fingertips, through my whole body, stronger than I’ve ever felt it. I hear Sebastian whoop in amazement, and I whirl around. The hedge walls have transformed from green to a vibrant violet. It is the most beautiful color I’ve ever seen.

Sebastian and I turn to face each other at the same time, and nearly collide in our swift movement. His hand reaches for my hip to steady me. Heat fills my cheeks. His touch awakens something in me, something even stronger than my Elemental power. I glance up at him and find his eyes locked on mine. We inch closer, and it feels like anything can happen—

A clap of thunder bursts overhead. We spring apart. The spell is broken.

“We’d better get out of here before the downpour starts,” Sebastian says, looking up at the sky. I nod, feeling slightly deflated.

He’s memorized the way back to the entrance, and I follow silently. We reach the opening into the outside world just as rain begins to fall. Sebastian takes off his jacket and places it around my shoulders.

“Thanks,” I tell him. “And thanks for going in there with me. You’re a real friend.”

He smiles briefly. Together we walk past the Maze, keeping our eyes away from the gated Shadow Garden, waiting with all its haunting memories just steps away. When we reach the back entrance of Rockford Manor, I invite him inside for tea and dessert.

“Thanks, but I should get back,” he says. “My car is parked outside the gate, so I’ll head out that way.”

“Okay. I’m sorry you have to walk another mile in the rain.” I shrug off his jacket and hand it back to him. “Why didn’t you just park in front of the house?”

“Oh, I …” He hesitates. “I guess I didn’t feel up to seeing the staff.”

“Of course,” I say hurriedly. “I understand.”

Going into the Maze with me is one thing, but entering the house where Lucia used to live, coming face to face with her maid and housekeeper and butler, explaining what he was doing there … I could see how that would be too painful, and I feel a stab of guilt.

Before we part ways, Sebastian says, “We can go back to the Maze whenever you’re ready. Just let me know.”

R
eturning to the manor’s front entrance, I see a pair of shutters open—shutters that have been closed ever since I moved in. The cold weight of fear sets in as I look up at the window. Someone is in Lucia’s bedroom.

Filled with trepidation, I make my way up the steps and into the house. I find Oscar in the Marble Hall, and I feel a rush of relief at the sight of him.

“Good evening, Your Grace,” he says with a bow.

“Hi, Oscar. Um, I don’t know how to say this, but …” I pause. “I think I saw someone in Lucia’s room. The window is open.”

Oscar grimaces.

“That will be Mrs. Mulgrave, I’m sure. I hope she didn’t give you a fright.”

“Mrs. Mulgrave?” I echo. “Why would she be in there?”

“She was awfully fond of Lady Lucia,” Oscar says, awkwardly. “Her mother died so young that Mrs. Mulgrave took on the maternal role, and certainly loved Lucia like her own. It comforts her to make up Lucia’s room every day, as if nothing has changed.”

I feel slightly sick.

“What do you mean? She goes in there and pretends Lucia is still alive?”

Oscar lowers his eyes.

“I—I suppose so. I’ll admit it makes me uncomfortable, but I don’t want to be unkind. I believe she suffered the most of all of us when Lucia died.”

“No wonder she doesn’t like me,” I realize with a sinking feeling. “She hates the fact that I’m the one living here, instead of Lucia.”

“Please don’t think that,” Oscar says anxiously. “I’m certain she likes you.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to pretend,” I tell him. “At least now I understand.”

The following days are a strange blend of dreamy and chilling. Sebastian and I return to the Maze, and though we still can’t find our way to the center, I have a feeling I’m growing closer—both to the water-stone and to him. But when night falls, I’m plagued by nightmares that become progressively more vivid and threatening. The Lucia who comes to me in my dreams is angry and vengeful, and every time I wake from one of the nightmares, I vow to stay away from Sebastian—but my resolve only holds for the first few minutes upon waking up. We can only be friends, I know that, but I can’t give him up entirely.

As my feelings for Sebastian grow despite my efforts to stifle them, I find myself wondering about him and Lucia more often. What was their relationship like? Did he know about her problems, or did she keep them as well hidden from him as she did with me? Does he think about Lucia every time he looks at me? When those dark silences fall over him, is it because he’s missing Lucia and wishing he were with her instead? But of course, these are questions I’ll never bring myself to ask.

Two days before the Rockford Fireworks Concert, I get up early to make the trek to Windsor Great Park, where Sebastian is playing in a charity polo match and Theo and I are to be his guests. Gemma was practically giddy when I told her over the phone about the invitation. “That’s Prince Philip’s polo club! Don’t forget the royal curtsy Basil taught you.”

This time I have a better idea of what to wear, and I choose a casual white sundress with klutz-proof black flats. After getting dressed, I slip quietly out of the manor, holding my breath that I won’t run into Mrs. Mulgrave or Maisie. They are the last people I want knowing where I’m going, and luckily I make it outside without anyone but Oscar seeing me.

Alfie is already waiting in the Aston Martin when I step outside. I settle into the backseat, leaning my head against the window as we begin the hourlong drive into Windsor. We make our way south along the river Thames until we reach a town that looks even more ancient than Oxford, with cobbled streets and stone cottages. Alfie points out Windsor Castle as we drive past, and I crane my neck to take in its enormous, battlemented structure.

“Would you believe it’s more than nine hundred years old?” Alfie remarks.

“That is seriously old.” I whistle under my breath. “Is the Queen in there right now?”

“No, she’s summering at Sandringham. But Windsor is one of the homes closest to her heart.”

Alfie proceeds into Windsor Great Park, connected to the castle by a sublime three-mile path of greenery. We pass the gardens and lake before finally arriving at the vast Smith’s Lawn, home of the Guards Polo Club. Alfie insists on escorting me up to the Stanhope box to meet Theo, and while I’m slightly embarrassed, I don’t argue. This place is so huge, I can picture myself easily getting lost.

Alfie leads the way up the stands to the Stanhope box, and I keep my head down as flashbulbs go off in our direction. I should have expected them—Alfie’s uniform with the Rockford logo is a dead giveaway. But I relax once I see Theo’s dimpled grin.

“Hi there, Imogen!” he calls out, standing upon my arrival.

“Hey, Theo.” I give him a quick hug.

“I’ll leave you two to the game,” Alfie says with a bow. “It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Stanhope.”

After bidding Alfie goodbye, Theo and I settle into our box seats.

“It’s been a minute since I saw you last,” he says, stretching an arm across the back of my seat. “You’ve been spending your free time with my brother, I gather.”

I glance down self-consciously.

“I know. We—we’re taking the same summer class at Oxford.”

“It hasn’t started yet,” Theo reminds me. There’s a slight edge to his voice, but he flashes me a grin, as if saying,
Relax. This is just typical, easygoing banter.

“Right, but Sebastian is helping me get caught up,” I lie. “Since my curriculum in America was different.”

I’m not sure what prompts me to make up the story; it just slips out. Luckily Theo lets it go, and soon he is busily chatting about the opposing team, filling me in on their high-goal players.

The match begins. My stomach does a flip-flop over as Sebastian rides onto the field, more handsome than ever in his Oxford uniform. I hear wolf whistles and cheers coming from a group of girls in the stands beneath us, and I exchange an amused look with Theo.

“They’re called Stick Chicks,” he explains with a laugh. “Polo groupies.”

“Oh.” I glance back at the girls, suddenly noticing how perfect their bodies are, how glamorous they look in their curve-hugging ensembles. Sebastian could have his pick of any of them. It’s a depressing thought, even though I already know he’s off-limits.

But then I see him scanning the crowd, searching for someone. Our eyes meet and his lips turn up in a smile. I grin back, color flooding my cheeks. I can feel Theo watching me and I know I should play it cooler, but I can’t seem to stifle my smile—not even after the game has begun.

Theo suggests we toast Sebastian’s winning match at the Old Ticket Hall, a bar and live music venue nearby. Sebastian manages to extricate himself from the admiring Stick Chicks and disappears into the locker room, returning in dark denim jeans and a button-down shirt under a black vest. Watching him, I can’t help wishing he weren’t so ridiculously good-looking. If only he’d grow a crazy unibrow, or do
something
to take the edge off my attraction.

The three of us jump into a cab, and after a quick drive we arrive at the Old Ticket Hall, located on a quaint street, with revelers spilling out the doors. Sebastian leads the way inside, miraculously finding us the one remaining booth. I slide in beside him, with Theo following me.

“What are you drinking?” Sebastian asks.

“Well, considering the drinking age is a lot older in my part of the world, I don’t have much experience with booze,” I admit. “How about you pick something out for me?”

“We’ll make it a Pilsner, then,” Sebastian decides. “That’s a good starter beer.”

When our drinks arrive, I raise my glass.

“To another win for Oxford,” I say, smiling at both of them. “And to old friends.”

We clink beer mugs, and I take my first sip. The Pilsner tastes bitterer than I expected, and I can’t help making a face.

“Water, please!” I call out to a passing waitress as Sebastian and Theo burst out laughing.

“Don’t give up on Pilsner just yet,” Theo says with a gentle nudge. “It’ll taste better once you get used to it.”

“Ugh. Okay, let me try again.” I take another swig, which tastes just as gross as the first. But by my fourth sip, it tastes almost … sweet.

“It’s got a cookie flavor!” I exclaim, slamming my mug down onto the table like I’ve seen people do in the movies.

“Whoa, someone’s already tipsy,” Sebastian chuckles. “Good thing I only ordered a half pint.”

Half an hour later, my mug is nearly drained and I’m positively giddy. The conversation flows easily, and I keep bursting into fits of laughter over Sebastian and Theo’s dry British humor.

When I hear the sound of a jazz band starting their instruments, I sit up excitedly.

“Come on. Let’s go to the dance floor!”

Theo wrinkles his nose.

“But it’s jazz night.”

“Music is
music,
” I tell him seriously, as if saying something deeply profound. I grab each of their hands and pull them to their feet. “Let’s go, let’s go!”

The musicians in the trio give us grateful smiles as we approach the stage. We seem to be their only audience—all the other clubgoers are steadfastly ignoring the music, continuing to talk and laugh loudly among themselves.

“Who wants to dance?” I ask tipsily.

Theo steps back, smiling awkwardly. “I’m not much of a dancer.”

“You, then.” I grab Sebastian’s hand.

“How does one dance to jazz, anyway?” he wonders.

“Like this.”

I place his arms around my waist and wrap mine around his neck. His touch only escalates my exhilaration, and it takes all my self-control to not blurt out my feelings then and there, as we dance to the rhythmic lull of a saxophone, piano, and guitar.

“I never knew until now that I actually like jazz,” I murmur in Sebastian’s ear. He grins down at me.

As the trio amps up their song, getting into a more swinging section of the piece, we kick our amateur moves up a notch. Sebastian twirls me around, even dipping me at one point, and we draw closer together, flushed and laughing.

The song ends, and the saxophonist puts down his instrument, picking up an accordion instead.

“Ooh. Wonder what he’s up to with that?” I nudge Sebastian in the ribs.

The guitarist leans into the microphone and begins to sing slowly.

“The falling leaves drift by the window,

The autumn leaves of red and gold.

I see your lips, the summer kisses,

The sunburned hands I used to hold.”

The singer’s raspy, haunting voice tugs at my chest. Sebastian’s arms return to my waist, and I lean against him as we sway to the music. The accordion joins in on the chorus, and it is so beautiful, so heart-wrenching, I feel transported to another time and place.

“Since you went away, the days grow long,

And soon I’ll hear old winter’s song.

But I miss you most of all, my darling,

When autumn leaves start to fall.”

My eyes meet Sebastian’s, and I know we’re both thinking the same thing. This song could be about
us,
about the summer we said goodbye. He leans in closer, and my heart skips a beat. Is he … going to kiss me? But then I see him looking somewhere beyond me, his jaw tensing.