Chapter Twenty-Six Wren
Chapter Twenty-Six
Wren
When a gift is not given, it is a sign that the person of age isn’t competent enough to handle the weight of magic.
—Aurilian History of Magical Objects, Chapter Four
I didn’t want to pretend. To smile and play the perfect lady on my outing with Everett. Hell, I’d completely forgotten about it until Sarah announced I had a visitor, her lips curling downward. I swore, that woman was always in a sour mood.
Then again, I wasn’t in the best mood either.
After last night, witnessing the photographic proof that my father was connected not only to blackmail but also to Lizzy and possibly Adrian not getting their gifts, I’d been left empty. And I had the niggling suspicion that those crimes were just the beginning of what we’d find.
When Father said goodbye to me this morning, I couldn’t meet his eyes.
“What’s wrong, little bird?” he’d asked, his mustache crinkling. He set his briefcase on a chair, his initials gleaming in gold on the foreign leather.
“Nothing, Father,” I replied, too afraid to say anything else that might give away my nerves.
His forehead creased. “You look pale. Have you been outside at all this week?”
I wanted to laugh in his face. He had no idea what I’d been up to.
“Yes,” I replied, my grin straining. I could feel my lips tremble. “I probably will spend today in the park as well. No need to worry.”
Laughable. It was laughable that he worried about me when my misery was his fault. I could no longer discern whether he truly cared or if it was an act.
“Good,” he replied. “I like that you’ve been keeping busy.” He leaned down, meeting me at eye level. “I just can’t wait until I get to brighten your spirits. Everyone’s spirits.” His stare drifted to Callie as she descended the stairs.
“What’s happening?” I asked, but he held up a hand, silencing me.
“It’s a surprise” was all Father said before he swept my sister out the door. She barely had enough time to blow me a kiss over her shoulder, confusion written all over her face at how eagerly Father ushered her to the waiting carriage.
Last night I’d stood outside her door, hand raised and ready to knock. I had let it fall, shuffling back to my room in defeat.
You’ll tell her when the time is right, I convinced myself. When I had irrefutable proof in my hands. Well, more proof that no one could dispute.
When Everett showed up, finely dressed and handsome as ever, I was half dazed, feeling insensitive because I planned to go out for a fun jaunt at his estate when there were people missing.
But my act had to be maintained. For now.
After gasping and begging him to wait five minutes, I quickly dressed in my riding breeches, black calf leather boots, and a snug-fitting shirt and belt.
For once, I didn’t add my typical embellishment, my lonely pink and yellow ribbons tucked in my drawer beside the book Damien had gifted me.
It had been a shock, his unexpected gift, even if he had stolen it.
Did it make me a horrid person that I was still touched by the gesture?
With a sigh, I took in my reflection. My clothes and expression were dark, like my mood.
Not that Everett wouldn’t be decent company, and maybe a distraction from the thief was welcome.
Walking downstairs, I found Everett in the parlor sipping the fancy western tea Sarah had brought out. The woman loved her damn tea.
“Morning!” I exclaimed, feigning cheery and bright-eyed. Based on his raised brows, I didn’t think my act had worked. He appeared more alarmed than anything.
“Sleep well?” he asked, setting down his cup. Like me, he was outfitted in riding gear. He was kind enough not to mention my earlier state, my hair sticking out and face red after I’d fallen asleep on the blue leather book of lore I’d been reading.
I forced a smile. “I did. Just feeling a little off this morning.”
“Well, I hope to change that,” he confessed with a grin, his handsome face illuminating the cold room.
Extending an arm, he waited for me to take it.
When I did, his smile lit up the entire room.
“I can’t wait for you to meet Mayberry. She’s my favorite horse, but today, I imagined that you could ride her.
Maybe get to know her in case you ever decide to ride again.
All I want is for you to be comfortable. ”
I caught his meaning. He expected more engagements like this one. The way he spoke with such assurance sent shivers down my arms until goose bumps rose.
Just get through today. Come nighttime, I had a date.
We headed for the door, Everett opening it for me and ushering me out into the fresh air. The streets were busy today, everyone parading about in their newest dresses or suits, the sky bright and blue and sunny. The perfect weather for a walk to the shops or a ride.
“Thank you for today, Everett,” I made myself say, trying to be polite. “And for sharing your horse. I’m sure she’s beautiful.”
“That she is. She’s known for her speed, and I think you’ll enjoy keeping up with her.
” He chuckled as he gracefully led me down the steps and to his waiting carriage.
His hand was warm and steady when he lifted me inside, and my lips tugged up as I settled myself.
Everett didn’t propose to loan me some mare months away from pasture, believing me some fragile creature.
I liked that he sensed I’d enjoy the speed and exhilaration.
He might not be the one who’d tie me down with a marriage contract, but I had a notion that he saw me much more clearly than most people.
I should at least try to see him in the same light.
If he showed me that I could trust him, then somewhere down the line he might be useful to expose the crimes of my father and his lackeys.
I had to recruit as many members of high society as possible.
The carriage took off, and Everett and I eased into a relaxed conversation.
The muscles of my shoulders gradually loosened as we discussed our plans for Solstice, which was still ages away.
We both agreed it to be the best time of year: the snow that coated Andalay and the lights that were strung up and painted everything in a magical glow.
When we arrived at his estate—an hour’s ride away—the time seemed to have flown.
I grinned as the carriage jerked to a halt, thinking of how Everett had asked all about me.
Not idle conversation, but questions about my hobbies.
What made me smile. What my ideal future looked like.
Whether I desired to travel, and if so, where?
I didn’t ask him nearly enough about himself, but he didn’t appear to mind, leaning in close to capture each of my answers. He made me feel seen. Heard.
“Welcome to my home,” he announced, helping me down the carriage steps.
I peered up, my mouth falling open in wonder as I took in the grand estate.
Four levels of imported stone greeted me, dark green ivy climbing up every inch.
Wide-open windows welcomed the sun inside, and the front door was entirely comprised of clear glass, as if visitors were always welcome.
I was about to compliment him when I noticed the gardenia bushes bordering the house.
“Those are Callie’s and my favorites. Well, aside from roses,” I said, dropping his arm and racing to the closest bush.
Cupping one of the sweet-smelling blooms in my hand, I inhaled, instantly pacified, steadier.
I wished Mother would let me plant them in our garden, but she refused, claiming they were too “overpowering.” I disagreed but hadn’t the energy to argue with her about flowers of all things.
“They were my late mother’s favorite as well.” Everett stood tall beside me, clearly proud. He glanced at the bush, a faint smile ghosting his lips. “She planted them everywhere on the estate.”
I’d heard that his mother died when he was younger, just a boy, really. I stood, brushing at my skirts nervously. “I wish I could’ve met her.”
“She was a spirited woman,” he said, motioning me toward the entrance. “Father liked to try to rein her in, though.” He spoke that last part with a hint of distaste.
I sensed that the rumors had been correct; Everett and his father didn’t get along.
Lord Arthur Sinclair evaded society, even when invited to every ball his son attended.
The man was a mystery, and I’d never seen him in person.
The Sinclairs were renowned for their wealth and their noble heritage, Everett’s father a duke.
Meaning that one day, Everett would inherit the title and all this land.
Hopefully, he would do better than his father.
The double doors opened, revealing two women with welcoming smiles.
“I’m so happy you’re home, Rett,” said the first one, an older woman with vivid snowy hair and a crooked smile. She tugged him inside, and shockingly, embraced him on the spot. Everett hugged her just as fiercely.
Rett? I lowered my chin, smiling at the nickname.
“Haven’t I told you not to call me that, Evelyn?
” he replied playfully. Pulling back, he took in the second woman.
She was younger, perhaps ten years older than me, with haunting blue eyes and blond hair tied in a strict bun.
“And wonderful to see you, Miss Ava. Hope your mother here hasn’t caused you too much trouble. ”
I stood there, watching the interaction with fascination. Most lords didn’t treat their staff kindly, let alone hug them. It spoke well of Everett’s nature.
Was I a fool for not truly considering him and his courtship? I had all these grand ideas, but could they actually become reality? Maybe Everett wouldn’t mind my traveling, maybe—
No. I stopped myself right there. Perhaps I stopped because Damien’s face invaded my thoughts, or maybe I daydreamed about a safer life given my father’s heinous dealings. It had to be the latter.
“Oh, this is Lady Wren Hayes!” Everett exclaimed, shaking his head. “Excuse my poor manners. She and I will be riding today.”