The Heartwood Box: A Fairy Tale (27 page)

BOOK: The Heartwood Box: A Fairy Tale
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Da
mian opened the right-hand door
to reveal
a
wood
-paneled dining room that was reassuringly small and cozy
.
Though the
room was larger than her parent
s

dining room, the round table was smaller, seating only four comfortably
.
A dish hutch against the far wall held ordinary
B
lue
W
illow china that might be seen in any house in the village
.

Genevieve
breathed a sigh of
relief
.
The idea of being a great lady was so outlandish,
she
had never even contemplated it, but certain offhand remarks and frippery like that nightdress made it clear that Damian had vastly different assumptions about money than her family
.
She’d half feared she would be eating every meal in some enormous, majestic hall at a table that seated twenty
.

Next on the tour was the room opposite the dining
room
, which Damian
called the “study.” 
The walls here were plain stone
and covered with tapestries featuring
gruesome
scenes of
soldiers battling
demons
.
The room was dominated by a large, carved desk
.
Because one
must face
it
as one entered the room
, just being in there
made her feel like a guilty
schoolgirl
being called to task by a teacher
.
The room was obviously masculine
,
and she knew instinctively that this was not her domain
.
She was relieved to exit.

That left only the double-doors
.
Luckily, Damian seemed to have put down the crop
.
He looked a little nervous as he threw open both doors with a slight flourish
.
Genevieve stepped inside and was stunned
.
Too many details were bombarding her, but they all gave her the same message—hers
.

The room was in two parts—a sitting room
that
connected to a glassed in conservatory
.
The sitting room was plastered instead of stone, with nary a tapestry in sight
.
Two walls were covered with bookshelves
.
Plump chairs and sofas were set in front of an ordinary (to her) hearth, which unlike the others in the house was decorated with pretty delft-tiles instead of gigantic rusticated stones, and was three feet instead of seven-feet tall
.

Opposite the hearth, there was a deep bay window with a long, cushioned window
-
seat that could be curtained off—the perfect place to curl up with a book on a stormy day.

If she’d tried to imagine a perfect room, somehow it would look like this
.
Even the walls—they were painted moss green
.
In fact, it was precisely the shade of the quilt in her old bedroom
.
She’d always thought the color soothing but also mysterious—the color of some hidden nook in a
f
orest where she could hide or daydream
.

She noticed then the scent of fresh paint and looked at Damian in amazement
.

He seemed slightly abashed
.
“I’m sorry about the smell
.
It was only painted two days ago.”  He went to open the doors leading out to the conservatory
.
“Blame Donal
.
He noticed the spread on your bed, and I kid you not, after breakfast that morning said I must have the room painted this shade
.
The scoundrel actually cut a piece from your quilt so our men could match it
.
I’d thought to leave it empty so you could decorate it, but Donal overruled me
.
He
rode up here the night before the wedding and told the steward what furniture should be moved in
.
I did suggest the rug and the desk, but you can change them if you wish.”

She looked at the rug, and her heart leapt—she loved it
.
It was a plush Persian carpet, obviously quite old and large enough to fill almost the whole room
.
The mix of dark blues, oranges, and greens on a mostly red background perfectly compl
e
mented the green walls
.

The desk too was wonderful: it was an old apothecary’s table, crafted from a lovely rose-wood, filled with a multitude of little drawers—practical but somehow whimsical as well
.
And unlike the massive pieces in Damian’s room
,
which
were so heavy they must require
a dozen men
to lift, this desk looked light enough that she might have it moved to the conservatory without feel
ing hopelessly troublesome.

To her dismay, her eyes were tearing up—why must she do this! 

“Darling,” Damian said, taking he
r in his arms
.
“Why the tears
?
Y
ou won’t hurt my feelings or Donal’s if you wish to change it—not in the slightest
.
The cost would be trifling, and the work could be done in a day
.
Do you believe me when I say that my dearest wish is for you to make t
he room exactly how you like?”

Genevieve let out a shuddering breath and put her hand up to his mouth
.
“It’s perfect
,
Damian—so perfect
.
You can’t imagine…
.
Thank you so much
.
I
don’t want to change a thing.”

As usual she felt mortified for allo
wing herself to be so overset
.
How could she explain what the room meant to her
?
I
t barely made sense to her
.

Just being in here was like suddenly discovering that she’d been trying to live without something vital, as if she were an ocean creature who’d been trapped in a small
fresh-water lake its whole life
and was suddenly thrust into the sea and finally understood that it couldn’t truly live without the cold, salty vastness
.

This room felt like it was
hers
—like she belonged there
.
She loved her parents so much, but the relentless cheer of their cottage often made her feel like an ill-omened interloper
.
She’d kept her own room empty to provide some relief from all the pink and yellow, but she realized now that the
sterile
white walls
offered no actual sustenance
.

“Donal picked the shade?” she asked shakily
.

How could he guess such a thing
?
His comment about being an oracle was no jest
.
But in a way she wasn’t surprised
.
With Damian, with Donal, even with Derek, within minutes she’d already felt like she knew them better than the people she’d known her whole life—like they all possessed some instinct that made them instantly reco
gnize each other as kindred.

She took a great breath
and shook her head sharply, trying to throw off this absurd mood before she made a complete scene
.
“As usual, I’m a watering-pot
.
I
think it’s making me thirsty.”

Damian let out a startled laugh
.
He pulled her in for a tight hug
.
“You dear girl…
Genevieve, you’ve no idea—what you bring to this house

.

She looked at
him
and to her surprise, he seemed almost as affected as she was
.
“But my bride is thirsty
.
Why don’t you explor
e while I fetch us something?”

She tried to offer a polite protest, though really she wanted to explore her “domain” according to the ways of the B
lacks
.
Damian pinched her chin
and left.

Genevieve stepped into the conservatory, which was large enough to hold a small dining table with four chairs, a double-width lounge chair that could
be lowered to create a day
bed
, two other
arm
chairs, and
assorted
small tables
.
All the furniture was wrought iron, with blue
-
and
-
white
-
striped cushions that looked brand new
.
There were potted date palms that provided some shade, along with orange and lemon trees that smelled heavenly
.

She wondered what it would be like to sleep the night in here—could one see the stars
?
Even better, the date palms told her the room must be heated somehow: how magical it would be to sit out here during the winter watching the snow swirl all around, but feeling
safely warm and comfortable
.

But t
oday was no stormy or snowy day, but a perfect June morning, gently warm with mild blue skies
.
Much as she adored her new
rooms,
the garden was calling to her
.

Chapter
Eighteen

 

Genevieve
quickly realized
the garden
was so big, it would take weeks if not months to discover all its beauties
.
But she spent the next twenty minutes contentedly wandering the paths, reveling in being in the sun, hearing the soothing buzz of the summer insects mixed with the soft breeze
.

She was no gardener to recognize all the different flowers, but at least one of the people who had planted this garden dearly loved herbs. At least seven different types of thyme were growing in unruly sweeps; there were beds full of basil, sage, tarragon, chives
with their whimsical purple buds
.
A
row of lavender ran the length of one of the walls; beds were enclosed with
tall
hedges of rosemary
.

B
est of all,
in the sunniest spot in the garden
was a huge bed just for her favorite, mint

and not just peppermint and spearmint
.
She saw apple, bergamot mint, and pennyroyal varieties as well
.

Everything grew in such abundance, she could pick a generous bouquet every day and feel no guilt at all
.
Genevieve immediately set about
picking a bouquet of lavender for their room
, and that was how Damian found her some minutes later
.

He’d brought a tray filled with jam tarts, biscuits, and a large Colby cheese, along with a pitcher of lemon-water, to which she could now add different types of mint
.
She practically clapped when she saw he’d brought a blanket—she’d never dreamt she’d love picnics so much
.

Damian spread it out in a
sunny
part of the lawn, and they both lay down, nibbling the food, teasing, but really just spending time together
.

Damian mostly talked, explaining how he and his brothers had been raised by Declan in the castle after their parents’ deaths
.
Genevieve sensed that though at the time it had been a horrible tragedy, grief had long since mellowed into a gentle sorrow
.
Their childhood had been a happy one
.
Though Declan had insisted they train very hard, he’d made sure there was plenty of time for sports, reading, riding, and in Donal’s case, endless pranks
.

Damian told hilarious stories of Donal’s ongoing war with Roderick, the castle’s irascible cook
.
It seemed she’d not been far off when she thought he looked like a child stealing tarts from a tea-tray
.
So far as his family could tell, Donal set himself the goal of causing mayhem in the kitchen at least once a day, though Roderick would thrash him unmercifully when he was caught
.
Declan had finally been forced to double the cook’s wages to keep him from departing
.

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