Page 11 of Bride of the Fae Duke

‘It was,’ Walford grimly affirmed. ‘Then again, such things happen. Tragic but not extraordinary. No one considered it to be anything but bad luck. But then a count’s daughter named Colette became the second Lady Locke – brilliant woman, wrote very engaging theatre critiques – and she fell down the stairs in the middle of the night, after drinking just a glass too many at a late show. Followed within the year by our lovely songbird, Lady Jeanne, who drowned in the marshes during a summer stroll outside the city.’

It had become hard to stop shivering now.

‘We were all there, you see,’ Walford said softly, rubbing his temples. ‘When she drowned. That’s when I began to believe it must be a curse – because it wasnothinglike Jeanne to be that careless. One moment she was just behind us on the path, the next she was being sucked into the mire. I tried to reach her – they had to drag me out of the quicksand, too – but they were too late to help her. As if something was …targetingher.’

Divines help her. She didn’t want to hear any of this, didn’t want to know any of this – and yet she forced herself to sit and listen, to absorb every damning, deadly fact. She had to know. She wouldn’t survive this marriage without knowing.

‘Did Othrys—’ She caught herself just too late and quickly amended, ‘Did Lord Locke believe it was a curse then, too?’

‘He didn’t.’ A bleak sigh. ‘He’s stubborn, Othrys – very sensible, buttoosensible at times. And of course, he didn’t want to believe his mother could have cursed him, too.’

‘Of course,’ Nellie said weakly.

‘Yes.’ He gave her a thin smile. ‘But people had started whispering, and for a while, remarrying seemed out of the question. Then an old friend of his – Lady Alis – returned from her travels to Issi and the Dragon’s Bay cities. Thought it was all ridiculous and decided she’d just marry him, if no one else was willing to.’

Nellie only just suppressed a whimper.

‘She lasted five months,’ Walford grimly continued. ‘We found her dead in the stables. One of the horses had kicked her in the head.’

‘And did Lord Locke believe in the curse then?’ she whispered.

‘Yes. Mourned for over a year.’ Walford rubbed his hands over his face, leaving his skin almost as red as his hair. ‘Frankly, we all thought he’d never marry again, and I can’t say we weren’t glad for it. But the estate still needed an heir, so …’

Nellie swallowed. ‘So that’s when he married that half fae lady? Blanche?’

It was on that occasion that she’d first heard of Locke and his curse. Lady Blanche did not wield magic either, meaning the marriage was technically legal even under Princeps Cyril’s laws … but of course Lady Eyestone had loudly declared it a disgrace all the same, second in reprehensibility only to the duke of Arragher and that fullblood fae mongrel he called his wife. What was to come of the city, if all its most powerful men started courting magic now?

Her fears had been excessive, though. Like the four wives before, Blanche had died – a piece of fish gone bad, sending halfthe household to bed with cramping guts for days, yet killing only her.

‘Yes,’ Walford said softly. ‘I assume Othrys hoped the curse wouldn’t affect her since she was part fae as well. Needless to say, that was idle hope.’

‘And yet number six married him.’

‘Rosamund. Yes.’ He shook his head. ‘She approachedhimto get married. Impoverished widow with expensive taste and a good eye for opportunities – lovely company, don’t get me wrong, but love certainly wasn’t the first thing on her mind. I think that was a reassurance to him. Didn’t save her life in the end, though.’

‘Hung herself in the attic,’ Nellie muttered. That particular death had been the topic of the month among the Eyestone household last year. ‘For reasons no one could figure out.’

‘Exactly.’

‘And now …’ A watery laugh slipped over her lips as she glanced down at herself. ‘Now there’s me.’

Walford was quiet for a moment – and another moment, and another, until there was really no way left to interpret his silence as anything but the gravest of hesitations. When she looked up, he had closed his eyes, forehead resting in his hands as if to pray for strength.

‘Mr. Walford?’ she cautiously said.

He jolted as if he’d forgotten her presence, eyes flying open. ‘Yes. Yes, I’m sorry. I was just— Forgive me, I was just thinking …’

She waited, quietly, the way Mrs. Radcliffe had taught her to wait when she was being spoken to. It took another moment before the steward seemed to come to a decision, rubbed his face again, and started, ‘Lady Locke …’

There his resolve ran out. Once again, he hesitated.

‘Yes?’ she said, encouraging.

‘Please do not misunderstand me,’ he quickly added – as if there was anything she could have misunderstood from his meagre hints so far. ‘I truly meant it when I said this family is everything to me. I would kill for the duchy – well, not literally, but …’ A nervous laugh. ‘You see what I mean. And Othrys is a good man – he really is. But he’s also a very, very unlucky man, Lady Locke, and seeing young life after young life end right under my nose … well, that would drive anyone with a heart insane.’

Oh.

Oh.

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