Chapter 15
Chapter fifteen
“I asked Nevan if Mrs. Ryan might come back, like a ghost from my books. He told me to stop being so stupid.” – from the diary of Oren Byrne, age eight.
“Imust’ve misheard. She saw her husband’s ghost?” I asked. It wasn’t possible. Though… something was happening—Iris and Aidan had both said as much. But a ghost?
Kiera gripped my arm. “I know. I didn’t believe her either, but I went myself, and I saw John, clear as day. He was covered in burns and all of the skin was missing on one of his arms. I could see through him, Oren. He was there and not. It was horrifying.”
It wasn’t that I didn’t believe her, and yet, I’d never seen nor heard of an accurate telling of a ghost. The stories were just that, stories.
Lord Rhett, the First Lord of Sídhetír, was said to have used a necromancer to shackle all of the openings between the fae realm and the human one into a single gate—the Gate of the Realms that was tied to Aidan and all of Sídhetír.
Necromancy was a purely human magic, but there hadn’t been one in… I didn’t even know how many years.
“Please, Oren,” she begged. “You must believe me. He was there. John was there.”
“I believe you.” I truly did. Kiera wouldn’t lie to me, but I wasn’t sure what she expected me to do about a ghost. I wasn’t Aidan.
I couldn’t command the forces of Sídhetír to bend to my will, though I wasn’t certain he could actually banish a ghost. Were they actually a part of our world? I didn’t know.
I supposed the vicar could pray the soul to heaven.
I almost laughed at the thought of asking him.
The old vicar would probably scoff at me, then ask Eilis Duffy, the skeletal caretaker of the vicarage, to chase me off, and he would be all too happy to comply.
He’d never liked me, Aidan, Nevan or Neil since the incident when we got drunk on sacramental wine.
How was I to banish a ghost and did he even need exorcising? It seemed simpler to leave Mr. Hillridge be.
“Will you go look?” she asked.
I hadn’t been to the Hillridges’ farm since the incident, and I had no desire to go now, but I nodded. “Yes.”
She pecked my cheek. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” I replied.
With one final smile, Miss Quirke left, weaving through the crowd to where her mother stood, looking pleased as punch.
I swallowed a swear. That woman was relentless.
She and Mother wouldn’t stop until Miss Quirke and I were wed, which wouldn’t happen.
I would fight tooth and nail to have what I wanted, and I was convinced so would Miss Quirke.
Besides, Aidan would never force me to wed, though I wanted to be someone who didn’t need his elder brother to protect him.
I wasn’t as fragile as I looked or my family acted.
I turned toward my family and barely noticed the teasing grins Nevan, Neil, and Georgie were casting me. My gaze latched onto Lord Abnus. His expression was darker than I’d ever seen. His features were sharper and harder than usual, and a cloud of cold encased him while frost dotted his skin.
My heart pounded as I came toward them, stopping in front of Lord Abnus, eyes only for him.
“Are you ready to return to the manor?” Lord Abnus asked.
“Yes,” I replied.
Neil raised an eyebrow, while Nevan snorted, covering his mouth to smother a laugh.
Georgie swung onto their horse. “Come on. I want to make sure my girls are not driving Frances to distraction. Phineas is no doubt assisting, but I’m sure Sevrin is in the stable with that horse he cannot woo.”
“Without question,” Neil replied. He and Nevan mounted without waiting for Lord Abnus or I.
When I approached my horse, Lord Abnus’s hands rested on my waist, and I shivered. He bent closer, his breath caressing my ear, and whispered, “Allow me to assist you.”
I nodded, cheeks flushed and my throat strangled with emotion. His grip tightened, and he lifted me with ease. I gasped, unable to help myself. When I was seated, I glanced at him, panting. “That was very kind, Lord Abnus.”
“Not at all, Mr. Byrne. It was quite selfish.”
He didn’t elaborate, and I didn’t ask, pulse throbbing in my ears.
We all gathered at the table for dinner.
I hadn’t had any chance to update my family on what Miss Quirke had told me, because when we returned, I’d become busy with my nieces.
I hadn’t even had a moment to speak with Lord Abnus like I’d wanted to.
Now, we weren’t seated next to each other, which was beyond infuriating.
He was seated next to Georgie, because they’d snagged his arm and escorted him to dinner before I’d had the chance.
Damn them.
Dinner dragged slowly, and anytime I attempted to bring up Miss Quirke a new round of teasing would begin, and Lord Abnus looked particularly staid or murderous, depending on what was said, so I gave up. I would tell them tomorrow.
First I wanted to research necromancy and see what options our library had to offer.
I doubted much was in the Sídhetír Memoirs, especially as I didn’t have access to the first one detailing the formation of the gate, unless Aidan had changed the tradition.
We hadn’t discussed it, nor would I have expected him to.
The dusty volumes hadn’t interested me when I was the supposed heir, and now that I wasn’t, I possessed even less reason to read them.
No reason to, really. I was nothing, and so the memoirs were nothing to me.
The clank of silverware and the mutter of voices continued on and on as I played with my food, thinking of the various spots in the library I could search.
If nothing could be found, then perhaps I could apply to Father for access to the first memoir, even though I truly didn’t want to read it.
I peeked at Father, who sat next to Mother, to assess his mood.
They were entirely engrossed in whatever they were speaking about.
A slight flush was on my mother’s cheeks, which made me think I didn’t want to know the subject, and Father looked as happy as she did, his eyes running over her face.
The two of them had been connecting in a way that I’d never witnessed before. I’d wait until tomorrow to speak with Father about what Miss Quirke told me about—it would have to be addressed, and he would know what to do—and whether I could read the first memoir.
When Father stood, it signaled I could leave. The family, with Lord Abnus captive, headed toward the parlor, and I peeled off to go to the library. I could do without the teasing glances and a moment alone with books.
As I passed by a window looking over the garden, I paused. The same woman from a few days ago was standing in the moonlight, barefoot in the snow. It was odd, not to mention against propriety conventions for her to be in her thin nightgown. How was she not freezing?
She seemed so familiar, and yet I couldn’t place her. Where had I seen her?
I shook off the feeling and strode outside. “It’s you.”
The young woman didn’t bother to turn around as she continued to stare at the sky. “Are you sure it hasn’t changed, Mr. Byrne?”
Blinking, I glanced at the moon. Yes, it had grown smaller, waning, but it was all the same as always. How would it have changed? “Yes,” I replied. It felt as if she’d returned right to our previous conversation.
“Then why does it feel so different?”
“How is it different?”
She finally looked at me. “I used to feel peace, being small under the heavens, and now, I feel… nothing.”
I couldn't formulate a response to that.
Before I had to, our physician, Ilene Maher, appeared from around the corner of the manor. She didn’t normally stay within the manor’s walls, but with the looming danger, Aidan had asked her to stay.
“Oh, my dear,” she said, tutting over the young woman who’d turned back to stare at the night sky. Mrs. Maher glanced in my direction as she began to lead the young woman away, saying, “My apologies, Mr. Byrne. She has been so very sick lately.”
Ah, that made sense. I replied, “It’s not a problem.”
I watched them turn the corner before, I assumed, heading into the manor.
The library awaited. In my normal nook, I would warm up with a cup of tea as I strategized.
The library in Byrne Manor was relatively large, but I was uncertain if there would be much on necromancy or magic within its catalog.
I had a few cousins with magic, but none who’d lived here before.
I saw no reason for there to be much in the way of magical theory books, at least current ones.
When I turned the bookshelf to my nook, a smile pulled at my lips. Lord Abnus was sitting in his usual chair. He looked up. “Mr. Byrne.”
“Lord Abnus,” I replied.
I raced to my seat next to him, grinning. I’d wanted to speak to him alone since the Miss Quirke incident—I hadn’t had the opportunity—but he’d sought me out.
“Hello,” I said, then wanted to smack myself. What an idiotic way to start a conversation.
The corner of his lips quirked. “Hello. I’d hoped you would come here. I wished to see you.”
A flush swept over me. Lord Abnus gently brushed the back of his finger over my cheek, and I shuddered.
The feel of skin to skin contact was enough to send a wave of longing through me.
I wanted to close the distance between us and mold my lips to his, but I didn’t.
He had made no moves toward me after the incident in the hunting shed.
“As much as I longed to see you, the hour is quite late and you should be in bed.”
I opened my mouth to say I might go to bed if he joined me, but I had the sense to swallow my words.
Lord Abnus was unlikely to accept, and truthfully, I wasn’t sure if I wanted him in my bed yet.
Well, that was a lie. I did. I wanted him badly, but I wanted more than a fuck.
I wanted forever, not momentary pleasure.
Though, if I was honest with myself, I would accept anything if he asked. I was weak like that.
Lord Abnus stared at me, waiting for me to respond, and finally, I closed my mouth like a sensible person. He brushed my cheek once again, and I grinned. He was touching me so much more. Perhaps a product of his jealousy?
“If you are not to sleep, shall we order tea?” he asked.
I nodded and stood to order a tray from a footman.
The cook, knowing me, wouldn’t be upset.
There were many a night that I called for tea this late.
I couldn’t seem to help myself. I always needed a warm cup as I read a book—the two went hand in hand.
When I returned, Lord Abnus was exactly where I left him.
The looming issue fluttered away from my thoughts under his purple gaze.
“Are you well, a ghrá?” he asked. “You didn’t catch a chill today?”
“No,” I answered with a chuckle, warming at the endearment. “You’re quite obsessed with me getting a chill, aren’t you?”
“Humans don’t handle the cold as well as us dark fae do.”
If we did, that would be surprising. “You’re correct.”
The tea arrived, and I made Lord Abnus a cup, just as he liked.
He smiled, enough for me to see and long for a beaming one, when I handed him the delicate porcelain cup.
Our fingers brushed, and I shivered, making the cup rattle.
He dragged his fingers over mine, his claws grazing my skin deliciously, as he drew away.
“Very kind of you to remember how I drink my tea,” he said.
Cheeks on fire and stomach in my throat, I nodded and shakily sorted my own cup of tea out. I placed a couple of teacakes on a plate, taking a bite of one.
Lord Abnus stared at me, expression bland. I met his gaze, pleased. Eventually, he commented, “You and Miss Quirke appear rather close.”
His earlier expression and the frosty chill that had been directed to Miss Quirke resurfaced in my thoughts and made me smile. I shouldn’t like the fact he was jealous, but I did. I loved it.
While jealousy was attractive, not to mention flattering, it wasn’t sustainable for the relationship that I craved, nor did I want to upset Lord Abnus.
I cared too much about him, whether this amounted to anything or not.
Being honest, I told him, “Miss Quirke and I have been friends since childhood.”
“Hmm.”
I shifted to the edge of my seat. “We are nothing more.”
“No?” he asked.
“No,” I replied with a shake of my head. “We courted because she was once the leading candidate to be my wife, but no more. Miss Quirke no more wants to wed me than I her. Our mothers merely wish us to be together.”
“They will not force you, right?”
“I don’t think so.” The memory of Cethin saying he would force me to wed Lord Abnus returned in full force. I wouldn’t mind that in a way, but I wanted him to choose me.
“Good.”
I blushed from his warm expression.
He set the teacup down and stood. “You need sleep.”
I did, but I wanted to spend more time with him.
Lord Abnus paused at the edge of the bookshelf, looking back at me as if he was waiting for something. When nothing happened, he walked away. My breath rushed out and I sagged back into the chair, chest heaving.
I’d wanted to invite him into bed with me, but I’d lost my nerve at the last moment. Maybe, just maybe, he would have said yes. I sighed. I finished my cup of tea, found a couple of old and very dusty magical theory books, then headed upstairs.