The truth was painfully simple. “Because I can’t. I’m bound by law to help anyone in need, regardless of the personal cost.”
His eyes bore into mine. Seconds ticked on the mantel clock, ten or ten hundred, I had lost all track of time under his gaze. “Think hard about the cost,” he said at last, “for your life is not the only one in danger. If you die, you’ll be killing the both of us.”
My heart thumped into my throat. His tone, his eyes, everything testified that he spoke the truth.
But it didn’t have to be like this, a life or death decision. In all my panic, I had forgotten about the altar on Julian’s estate. I only needed to reach it in the next few days, cross over to the Otherworld and then everything would be back to normal. Though I would never leave without first telling Henry. He deserved better than that—he deserved the truth, no matter what promises I had made earlier.
“There’s another way—” A knock sounded on the door, cutting off my next words and bringing Henry to his feet.
The young footman who had taken to flirting with my maid came into the room. He held a basket, the top covered with a cloth. “Pardon me, Miss Kilbrid, this just arrived for you.”
“Who is it from?” I asked.
“I’ve no idea, miss. Someone left it on the porch and ran away before I could answer the door.” He handed me the basket.
I looked at it, dumbfounded.
Thank you,” Henry said. “That will be all.”
“Yes, my lord.” The footman bowed and left the room.
“Well, are you going to look inside?” Henry asked. “Or are you attempting to decipher the contents through the cloth?” He kept his voice even, but I could still hear the deep-seated anger beneath his words.
I pulled the cloth aside and stared into the basket, relief flooding through me. A bundle of dried herbs and a flint were nestled on top of a white linen sheath. There was also a note. Breaking the wax seal, I read the words written in elegant black letters.
All Hallows by the Tower
Brigid Buadach
I handed the note to Henry. “Do you know where this is?”
“It’s a church just off Tower Hill,” he said, looking up from the parchment. “What’s in the basket?”
I brought the herb bundle to my nose and took a deep breath, pulling in the familiar scent of cowslip, angelica, and goat’s rue. “Everything I need to cross over.”
“Who sent it?” he asked. “I thought you didn’t know of any other descendants in London.”
Julian, I thought, wonderful, devoted Julian.
“I’ve not the slightest idea. Someone must have recognized my surname and prepared the basket.” The fibs glided effortlessly from my tongue.
“How do you know it isn’t a trick?”
Because it’s from Julian.
“The note says Brigid Buadach and only a true leath’dhia would know what was needed to cross over.” As evidence, I held up the herbs with one hand, while using the other to pull the flint and sheath from the basket. Something fell from the linen folds, clinking loudly before landing with a heavy thud on the carpet.
Henry bent over and picked up two iron keys tied together by a leather band. From what I could tell, one of the keys was larger than the other. He turned them around in his hand several times, then tucked them into his pocket. “What time shall we go?” he asked, either convinced by the keys or just resigned to my stubbornness.
“Midnight,” I said. “It’s safer to go when people are abed.”
The front door opened, followed by footsteps across the stone entryway. I tucked everything back into the basket just as Nora came into the room. Her face was flushed and she hurriedly glanced around.
“Is my mother awake?”
“I don’t think so, but I’ve not been upstairs to check yet.”
Nora shot us a relieved looked. “Oh, she wouldn’t be sulking in her chamber if she suspected we had snuck out tonight. She would be downstairs in plain sight, girded for battle.”
“Where’s James?” Henry asked. “Did he take a chair home?”
“He’s out front in the carriage. I told him to wait for you there just in case my mother was in a rage.” Nora raised a hand to stifle a yawn. “I best get out of this gown before she wakes up. It would be bad luck, indeed, to be found out at the very end. Good night, you two. I for one will have very pleasant dreams tonight.” She left the room, taking the only semblance of good mood along with her.
Henry grabbed his greatcoat from a nearby chair. “I will return at twelve sharp.”
“Don’t go,” I said. “We’ve still so much to talk about.”