Page 15 of The Dreaming Beauty
He shook his head, grateful for a source of conversation, even if it was out of the ordinary. “My childhood must not have been as exciting as yours. I did not grow up with bedtime stories.” His mother had given everything to prepare Simon for his future, and that meant Marcus sacrificing all sorts of things to support his brother. He wondered what it would have been like to grow up having a more normal childhood—one with lullabies in the nursery instead of reciting peerage names with Simon until he fell asleep. “I’m certain it is for the better since such wild tales would have given me nightmares.” Even more nightmares than he already had.
Miss White laughed, but Tansy observed him with curiosity in her eyes.
“I don’t know you well,” she said carefully, “but you don’t seem the type to be scared of anything, especially not a wee little fairy.”
“I should hope I’ve grown out of at least a few of my childish fears.” Marcus kneeled, reached to add a few more rocks from their pile to their growing circle, and whispered, “Though, sometimes young maidens who interrupt my sleep in the dead of night can be a touch frightening.”
Tansy bit her lip. “I still cannot fathom what happened.”
“It is already forgiven. I am just glad your health has returned. I haven’t had a single scare since.”
“If that’s the case, you should educate yourself on the best legends.” She seemed desperate to talk about anything but herself. “Unless, of course, you have a propensity to being afraid.”
He met Tansy’s eyes and caught the teasing glint. Ah, he liked a woman who could challenge him in a conversation. “I might. Will that be all right?”
There it was—the smile he’d wanted. “I suppose. We won’t tell, will we, Daisy?”
Miss White pushed a few messy brown curls back off her face. “We might, but only if you go blabbing that we’ve built a fairy circle.”
He saluted like a soldier to his commanding officer. “You can trust me. I am the best secret keeper there is. Now, tell me, how does this work? And where did you find so many white rocks?”
Miss White picked one up and rubbed it with dirty fingers so uncharacteristic of the ladies of Society. “I collected as many of these rocks as I could from our trip to the coast last summer, only there was no room to build a circle by our house in Yorkshire. My sisters promised I could finally do it when we came here, though they regretted it as soon as Thomas went to move my trunk.”
Tansy seemed so much older in her behavior than her aunt, especially by the nurturing way she smiled at Miss White. “Yes, and while a real fairy circle is made of mushrooms, white rocks will do in a pinch.”
Miss White nodded, absently pulling at her sleeve. “And when the full moon comes, if the fairies claim it, then humans beware.”
“Oh? More deaths?” Marcus asked, standing and dusting off his breeches.
“Mostly,” Miss White said. “You see, time slows in the fairy circle, and if the fairies are away, then a human can dance in it without dying. But even slowing time to be with one’s lover isn’t worth the risk. If you’re captured by the fairies, it’ll all be for naught.”
“Death?” Marcus asked.
“Certain death,” Miss White answered.
“I feel most educated. I thank you.” Marcus glanced at Tansy, who seemed to patiently humor her aunt but still offered him an apologetic smile.
“Enough stories for today, Daisy,” Tansy said. “I am sure Mr. Taylor came for an interview, not for tales of fairyland.” She began fidgeting with her hands, giving away her anxiety for what was coming. Was it him or his questions that brought on this unease?
“I am here for the purpose you speak of, but I can return another time if it is more convenient.”
Tansy shook her head and motioned to the house. “Shall we?”
He nodded, and she picked up a neglected bonnet next to the base of a tree. The two of them left Miss White, the willows, and the hedge behind.
“You were very good to listen just now.” Tansy untied her apron, folding it deftly in her hands.
“You were very good to help your aunt with her project.”
Tansy’s laugh was as light as the air. “Ever since I can remember, Daisy has collected fairy stories. They’ve been a great comfort to her over the years.”
“The stories?”
“Yes. There is nothing better when you’re lonely than a magical adventure that transports you to another world.”
This form of thinking was very different from his own. He collected facts and observations, formed new conclusions. “Then, you love the stories too?”
Tansy shrugged. “I did more so when I was younger. Now I love them because of the happiness they bring Daisy. I’d prefer friends who are real, but do not tell my aunt.”
