Page 12 of Bride of the Fae Duke

‘So if you ever regret this choice,’ he continued, and now he was almost whispering, throwing haunted looks at the closed door, ‘if you ever decide you would rather get out of here …pleaselet me know. I would be able to help you. I could find a quiet, safe place for you – for you and your sister.’

A way out.

Away from this cursed house and the dead garden and the racks of whispering dresses. Could it truly be? For a moment, a single mortifying moment, she almost fell to her knees before his desk and begged him to get her to safety, back to someone’s servants’ quarters or a little one-room weaver’s house for all she cared …

Then the hard hand of reality whacked her.

Because if she flednow– before the marriage had even been consummated – no doubt Locke would simply annul the whole thing. Which meant she’d lose her future again, Anne’s money, too, and how could she ever justify that except in the gravest, most imminent danger?

And if it trulywasa curse haunting this household – if she’d been wrong, all these years, to assume the rumoured powers of the fae were nothing but children’s tales – then she might even stand a chance at survival in the end.

Whatever happened, Locke wouldn’t fall madly in love with some lowly housemaid before the month was over.Noneof his previous wives, even the ones he’d married of his own accord, had died within the first three months. So she would be safe for a while. She had time to make sure the marriage contract was fully and clearly fulfilled, to study the duke’s behaviour, to determine if there was any danger of sudden, deadly romance.

Andifthat were the case, then and only then would she get the hell out of there.

‘Thank you,’ she managed, and despite the newfound clarity of her thoughts, her throat felt tight as if someone had wrapped their hands around it. ‘Thank you so much, Mr. Walford, that is very kind of you. I don’t think I should leave just yet, but I’ll keep it in mind. I will let you know if I need help.’

He nodded, still smiling ever so apologetically. ‘Of course, Lady Locke. I’ll leave that decision in your hands.’

No doubt in his voice, no sudden shadows on his face … and yet, as she rose to her feet, she couldn’t help thinking she saw a flash of resignation in his eyes.

Chapter 5

Bythetimeafternoonblurred into evening, Nellie had unpacked her bags and made her plans, so ready for the unpleasant but inevitable next step it almost felt like impatience.

Her new husband did not show up for dinner, and so she ate with Anne alone, the two of them seated at the head of a table built to accommodate two dozen guests. The dining room gave the impression it hadn’t been touched by a breathing soul in years, with the brand new candles in the candelabras, the pristine white-and-blue earthenware, and not a fleck of ash in the fireplace; even the servants seemed a little skittish as they served the soup and the grilled lamb, as if the ghosts of their former mistresses could soar from beneath the long rows of empty chairs any moment.

And perhaps they could? If Nellie had to accept the existence of magic, she had no idea where the insanity might end.

Even that thought didn’t bother her as much as it would have in the past. She had the facts straight now. She had a plan. And if everything went to hell, she held the key to her own escape – ormore accurately, Walford did – which meant she did not depend on Locke to get out of here alive.

So she was not a prisoner of this place.

Just a grim but mostly willing guest, biding her time.

She ate in moderate amounts, careful not to overstuff herself in preparation for the physical exertion that might follow later that night. Next to her, Anne barely ate half of the meat a footman had cut into bite-sized pieces for her, staring gloomily at her plate in between courses. During dessert, not even the excellent raspberry pudding could entice her appetite back to life.

‘You do realise,’ Nellie said, and now that the shock and uncertainty of the morning had ebbed away, the light firmness of her voice was fully genuine, ‘that this place willsurelykill you if you refuse to eat?’

Anne glared at her, looking about to burst into tears any moment, and took one more bite of pudding before she dropped her spoon again.

They’d work on that tomorrow, Nellie decided. One plan at a time.

After they retreated upstairs, she helped her sister undress, braided her hair for the night, and read her fairytales until Anne’s eyes started to fall shut. Then she blew out the candles and tiptoed back into her own bedroom, where the previous ladies’ dresses had been removed and only her own meagre wardrobe now occupied the shelves.

She picked her yellow summer dress, not because it was the most flattering – it was not – but because it was easiest to get out of.

Then, having changed clothes, she waited.

Time ticked by far too slowly. She wasn’t used to having nothing to do: usually she had toomuchto do, and even knowing the idleness would end, her hands were restless, itching forsomething to clean or organise. This house wasn’t comfortable enough by far to happily do nothing in it, either – she’d have to work on that.

Not today, though.

One plan at a time.

Except that right at this moment, even tonight’s plan wasn’t exactly making much progress, while she lounged here on her bed and glared impatiently at the door.

The temple bells struck ten outside, and she decided she’d had enough. Perhaps Lord Locke had a preference for midnight trysts or some such nonsense – but Nellie knew she’d wake at her usual time of half past six tomorrow, midnight tryst or no, and then she’d have to get out of bed to help Anne get dressed. As long as she went ahead and found her husband now, surely they could be done soon enough to allow her six hours of sleep?

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