“Ah. Well. Things are not always how they appear. You should really talk to Lord Seton before doing anything rash.” The shears continued to snip.
Dawn turned to allow Marjory to clear around her face. The nurse dropped knotted locks into a bucket at her feet. It looked as though she had cleared an ancient bird’s nest from a chimney. Dawn’s once-glossy chocolate lengths were matted and tangled in foliage.
She bit her lip to keep the blush from rising up her neck as she remembered the twisted act she witnessed. “Despite the forms they took, it was rather obvious what I saw. I do not require further explanation about their actions.”
Marjory let out a sigh and worry lines framed the sides of her mouth. “I have lived here most of my life, and if I know one thing, it’s that Lord Seton is a good man. He always does right by people, and he dislikes that horrid woman as much as anyone.”
What the two had been doing last night didn’t look like dislike but quite the opposite. The gargoyle had seemed to fight and struggle, but what did Dawn know of Elemental mating habits? No, if Jasper was doing right by Ava, then Dawn was the cast off, to be scraped aside and discarded like meat gone rancid on a forgotten plate. “I don’t want to hear any more.”
The nurse made a few more cuts around Dawn’s face and then sat back to appraise her work. “There, all done. Short hair suits you. You might even spark a trend. I wish there was a mirror in here so you can see.”
Dawn waved her hand. “I don’t want to see. I would like to go back to sleep now, thank you.”
“Of course, love. I’m going to stay here. I’ll be just outside the door if you need me. I’ll go shoo those men out so you have some peace and quiet.” Marjory rose and looked on the brink of saying something more, perhaps to extoll the virtues of her employer. Her chest drew in and her eyes narrowed.
Dawn staved off the nurse’s parting comment by pulling up the blankets and rolling over to face the wall. Her entire body hurt, inside and out. There was nothing more to say or to be said. Once the door closed behind Marjory, Dawn let more tears free to wash away a little of the agony.
She slept, eventually, and only awoke to a pressing call of nature, thankfully not that of Gaia or a treacherous plant. Her legs shook as she stood and pain flowed over her skin. Step by step she made it to the door and found Marjory sitting by the fire, knitting in her lap.
She looked up and set the colourful piece aside. “Are you all right, love? Need a hand?”
Dawn gestured to the water closet next door. “No, thank you. I can manage.”
Within the small room she did her business and then ran cold water from the tap to dash over her face. A stranger looked back at her from the mirror. One with short hair that curled around her ears and haunted eyes that had seen more than her mind and heart could bear.
She found Marjory in the kitchen, boiling water and spooning loose tea into a pot. “I’ll make us a cup of tea. That always revives the spirits. Do you feel up to a visitor?”
Dawn scowled. She wondered how long she could avoid Jasper. No, Lord Seton. She would no longer be receptive to his quiet advances and presumed she would have to pack her bags and await the next train out of the small village. She glanced to her wrist. A clean bandage was wrapped around the original cut, but a smudge of black crept out from one side. No matter where she ran, she would take Ava’s poison with her.
The kettle sang and Marjory wrapped a tea towel around her hand to lift it off the range. “Lady Letitia would like to come sit with you.”
Dawn heaved a sigh and pulled out a dining room chair. Her body was grateful to take the weight off the cut soles of her feet. Would Lettie push her brother’s position or mutter something insane about how Soarers killed Dawn’s parents? Perhaps this was how those who lived for centuries found their entertainment, by torturing the lesser mortals around them. Let them have their cruel torments. She was numb to them now.
“Very well. If she wishes it.” Outside, the light faded, and Dawn wondered if she had slept away one day or more. Since the train only came to Alysblud once a week, she needed to determine when the next one was due.
“Master Elijah is worried too, and that old goat Hector and all your lads. I don’t think all the people who care for you will fit in this little cottage.” Marjory placed the teapot on the table and two mugs.
Dawn laid her palms flat on the table. Faint red scratches had replaced the green marks from the Cor-vitis. Was it gone for good, lost in her dash from the maze? How easily one life was erased and replaced with another.
Marjory poured tea and added milk before passing the mug to Dawn. “I don’t know what was said between you and the earl, but you have the look of someone planning to pack their bag and bolt.”
“How can I stay?” Dawn stared at her tea. Of course she had to leave. She couldn’t continue at the estate knowing Lord Seton was entwined with Ava. Her problem was she had nowhere to go. There was no one who wanted her. No one who needed her. Her sand ran through the hourglass, and little time remained for her.
Marjory reached out and took Dawn’s hand. “Running isn’t always the answer, you know. And putting aside what you think you did or didn’t see, we need you – the family and the wider community. Oh we have moments of levity and we all pull together, but living under her rule is a constant strain, like living on a battlefield waiting for the cannon to fire. And perhaps I am selfish, but a small part of me hopes that removing the evil cow will give Lady Letitia some peace and I can spend my twilight years nagging Hector.”
Dawn clasped her hands around the mug and stared at the tea. She desperately wanted to run until her legs gave out, but could she turn her back and leave these people to their fate, whatever it might be? Life wasn’t fair. Why didn’t she deserve a happy ending to her story?
“You don’t have to answer or decide right away. I’m just giving you something to ponder.”
The nurse took her hand back and rose to fetch something from the kitchen bench.
Dawn stared at her right hand and tried to remember the pattern of knots and swirls the plant had woven at Lord Seton’s touch. The mysterious lines had faded already. Perhaps they had disappeared when her infatuation died.
Another memory tugged at her, the tear in Lettie’s eye as she whispered that Ava had stolen her seed. It was a silly plant anyway, what did it matter if Lettie had a seed or not? A person’s ability to love wasn’t determined by some invisible sweet pea. No plant could dictate who she cared about, and in only a few short weeks she had come to care for this community.
The ache in her chest returned along with her own whispered words. We cannot let fear stop us from doing what is right.
Did it matter if Jasper chose her or colluded with Ava, when the rest of the family and wider estate needed her? Perhaps she should accept that life had never fated her for happiness, and the best she could offer was to be useful to others.
Marjory returned to her seat and slid a plate of biscuits toward Dawn. “She’s a horrible woman with what she has done to this entire family. If I had things my way, I would march into that maze with a pair of hedge trimmers and lop her off at the knees.”
Was there a chance she had misunderstood what she saw? Her heart stuttered at the idea. What she would give for the tiniest strand of hope that he reciprocated her feelings. But if Jasper had affection for Dawn, how could he do such things with Ava?