An Exclusive Preview of The Onyx Door: Book Three in the Luella Winthrop Trilogy
Warning: Spoilers lie ahead if you have not yet read The Silver Currant!
Chapter 1: Cold and Dark
“Luella, what’s wrong?”
Edward leaned against a tall coil of thick rope. He was wrapped in a patchy sheet of old canvas in a feeble attempt to ward off the incoming cold. His breath cast nearly invisible clouds of hot steam into the dark, a byproduct of dragging the large, unconscious body into the dock house.
Gerald’s body.
My fingers were practically frozen over a similar stretch of canvas, but I didn’t feel cold. I didn’t feel anything. Cyrus crawled out from under my makeshift blanket to shake the water from his fur for what must have been the fifth time since we got off the boat.
I stared at my fiancé, pathetically trying to forget the passionate and accusatory voices of the fae choir. They had struck me dumb, and I’d said nothing since Edward held me in the ferry’s engine room.
I could only sit and stare.
I had come back from the Netherdowns into the freezing Severn river. Cyrus had rescued me while Edward brawled with Gerald on the boat. I sang Hirythe’s song to test Edward. He failed miserably.
Even in Byron’s room with Jeremy nearby, I’d never heard such a strong confirmation: Edward had interfered with high magic.
Surely, there was an explanation.
After all, the song was wrong about my sister, and the song didn’t function as expected with Byron.
But I failed to conjure up any rationale to prolong this sentence. The song must be wrong about Edward because…
Because what?
I was so foolish. It had been directly in front of me the entire time. Everyone I trusted told me to test him. I had refused to test him. Why?
Deep down, did I know the man I had promised to marry, the man to whom I trusted my lasting devotion, had been lying to me?
Trust is as fragile as an eggshell.
What excuse could he have for keeping his involvement in high magic from me, knowing what I faced?
My only consolation was that at least I had kept secrets of my own, and I held small parts of myself he couldn’t claim. Had I opened up to him more fully… I shuddered to think of it, the consequences of giving a liar, a traitor, access into my heart.
I stared at him as if he were a violent kidnapper. I wanted to hate him. I wanted to lash out at him. Scream. But when I reached down for my anger, I came up empty. Even the magical illness that had infected me for so long had abandoned me.
I was on my own.
Gerald groaned on the floor between us.
“He’s stirring,” Edward noted.
“I know him,” I whispered. It wasn’t easy to admit even that much. My innate survival instincts wanted to keep my knowledge from him. Why reveal my hand to Edward? He had enchanted me. I wasn’t sure why, but if I divulged my discovery, there was no telling how he might react. He was a stranger to me, my fiancé.
He looked at me, brows knit.
“You do?”
“Yes. This is Gerald,” I said.
“The Gerald we were to meet in Reading?”
“The same. If you hadn’t been arrested, you’d have met him.”
“What the devil is he doing here? And why did he try to destroy the diary?” Edward coughed, releasing a puff of steam from his mouth. We needed to warm up in earnest soon, or the cold would be more than an inconvenience.
But where could we go? I was a fugitive. The Dawnhurst Police would soon discover that I was no longer in my cell, if they hadn’t already. They hunted me after Luke Thomas’ murder. Now, the night of my escape, they would discover Charlotte Thomas had disappeared as well.
I closed my eyes. That was another secret my instincts told me to keep from my enchanter. If Edward knew about his mother…
Cyrus let out a low menacing growl as Gerald started moving. Edward had tied his hands and legs with sturdy rope, but in a flash, Gerald lunged at Edward.
The Lord of Fernmount skittered backward as quickly as he was able and watched the big man trip over his tied feet, landing on the wooden dock house floor with a crash. Cyrus lowered onto his haunches beside me, hair bristling on his back but, he remained deathly silent.
“Release me!” Gerald cried, writhing on the ground as he tried to escape the ropes.
“You are in no position to make demands,” Edward replied, the canvas draping off his shoulders like a cape as he stood.
“You think some cords of rope can keep me from pulling your limbs off?” Gerald snarled and spit.
“I beat you on deck, and I’d be happy to beat you again.” Edward folded his arms. Once, Edward’s pugilist proficiency had been a comfort to me. I’d once seen him brawling with a constable several stone larger, but he wasn’t a clear victor in that case. Now, the idea that he bested Gerald made me tremble in fear. Still, now the adrenaline was spent from his veins, and, noting the fresh bruises on his side, I wondered if Edward could best Gerald again.
“Why not untie me and give it a go?”
“You set out on the boat for the sole purpose of throwing a book into the water. Why?” Edward asked.
Gerald grunted.
“What do you care?”
Edward breathed in and let out a slow, measured breath.
“Did you find it yourself or did someone give it to you?”
“Find what?” Gerald’s voice was low and dismissive. But I detected traces of sick amusement, as if he enjoyed toying with Edward, as if none of this had any real implication.
Edward let out a roar like a lion and grabbed a yard-long metal hook hanging on the wall. He stared at Gerald and hefted its weight in his hand.
“Let’s skip the bit where you feign ignorance. Why did you destroy it?”
Gerald leaned against a vertical wooden beam, a slight smirk creasing his face. I didn’t move, cloaking myself in darkness and stillness.
“Destroy what?” Gerald asked again. Edward reacted like a stick of dynamite. He lunged forward with the hook raised, ready to strike. I did not believe my eyes. This was not the Edward I thought I knew. Rage glinted wildly in his eyes. This was not right. My Edward would have never…
But even the sting of his discovered betrayal didn’t dull my protective instincts.
“Edward, no!” I shouted too late. Gerald swung up an arm, loose rope dangling from his wrist, and caught the hook in midair. He took advantage of Edward’s surprise and overpowered him, forcing his hands at his sides. He swiveled him around to face me. I stared in horror. Edward struggled against a firm and terrible hold, made more deadly by the metal hook now resting near his neck. Behind him, Gerald glared, wild with fury. I thought I knew these faces, but devils stared at me.
“Who’s there?” Gerald yelled. Cyrus started growling again, inching forward. I paused, wondering why Cyrus would posture so aggressively. Gerald was no stranger.
“Gerald,” I whimpered.
“Luella Winthrop?” Shock broke through his voice.
“Luella, run. Get out of here,” Edward said, before the point of the hook bit into his neck, shutting him up.
“Quiet, you,” Gerald said. “What are you doing here, Luella?”
“I should ask you the same,” I replied, shifting my way out of my little hiding place. Noticing my movements, Cyrus barked a warning.
“Don’t come near!” Gerald warned. “I’ll kill him!”
“You’ll do no such thing,” I countered. Cyrus matched me step for step as I closed the gap between Gerald and myself.
“Call off the dog!”
“What, Cyrus?” I asked. “He’s your friend. I’ve watched you give bones and scraps of meat to him. He’s not going to hurt you. No one is going to hurt anyone. Stop acting like a child.”
Gerald shook his head erratically, as if he was trying to shake water from his ear or a fly from his nose.
“Why did you take the diary?” I asked.
“Are you in league with the police, then?” Gerald tightened his grip on Edward.
“I’m running from them,” I said. “It’s no different from when we talked at Reading.”
“Reading?” he asked, a small glint in one eye. “Then what are you doing back here?”
“I was trying to work out a plan to clear my name. It went poorly. Why don’t you let Edward go?”
Gerald laughed nervously.
“If you’re running from the coppers, why are you running with one?” he asked, indicating Edward with a cruel twist of his arm.
“He’s no longer a police officer.”
“How do you know what he is?” Gerald yelled. I paused, trying to shed the feeling that he was right. Who was Edward? Why should Gerald let him go? I could run now and never turn back, leaving him behind.
But Bram still awaited trial for a crime he didn’t commit, a crime he might hang for. And whatever monster Edward might be, his mother didn’t deserve to be trapped in the Netherdowns as she was.
“He’s my fiancé,” I said steadily. Gerald peered at me like he was putting together a puzzle. The sound of the river lapped against the dock outside and beneath us. He shook his head again.
“Lies.”
“It’s not a lie,” I said. I held up my hand, a gold band shining in a shaft of moonlight. Seeing the band hurt anew. It was a lie, just another piece in Edward’s greater deception. It made my stomach churn that Edward would use a family heirloom so callously to deceive me. I swallowed back emotion. Don’t start now. “Why did you destroy the diary, Gerald?”
He struggled to form words, shaking his head again.
“I can’t tell you,” he said, finally.
“Why not?”
His eyes stretched wide.
“I don’t know!”
“What do you mean you don’t know?” Edward cut in, bristling with annoyance. Gerald shook him.
“I meant what I said,” Gerald replied.
“You’re not yourself,” I continued, stretching a hand toward him. “You aren’t going to kill this man, and he’s certainly not going to kill you. You’re not in danger.”
“I am. I am in grave danger!”
“From who?”
“I can’t tell you!” Gerald looked like he was in physical pain. His face strained like someone was strangling him.
“That’s fine, then. Don’t strain yourself. Do you want to tell me?” I asked. He set his jaw firmly and nodded. Edward gaped at me from over Gerald’s large forearm.
“Why not let Edward go? You don’t have to tell us anything, and I promise he won’t try to hurt you.” I bit my lip. Edward had been about to hit him with a hook for naught but more information, but the fury had faded from his eyes. Then again, I no longer trusted I could his emotions.
Gerald paused and considered.
“Come now, Gerald. You may not be able to tell me something, but surely nothing compels you to hold my fiancé hostage.”
Gerald didn’t let go per se, but Edward must have sensed some loosening of his grip, for he climbed out carefully from the large man’s burly grasp and quickly sidled over beside me. Gerald did not lower the iron hook, however.
“Thank you,” I said. “We’re both grateful. Aren’t we Edward?” I shot my fiancé a stern look to quiet any incoming objection. He awkwardly turned back to his adversary.
“Yes, thank you, for letting me go from the life-threatening grip you had me in.”
“Would you like me to try it again?” Gerald retorted, salt in his voice. “Might I remind you, I committed no crime. I received a book with instructions to throw it in the river at its deepest point. You were the one who boarded my boat and attacked me.”
“I did not. You started—” Edward took a step forward, eliciting further defensive posturing with the gleaming hook. He backed up hurriedly, raising his hands in surrender.
“I was surprised to find an intruder on my boat.”
“Enough, both of you!” I cried. Cyrus hadn’t moved more than an inch. He still stood, teeth bared. “Who gave you the book? I assume you didn’t take it from Edward’s private chambers.”
Gerald’s eyes squinted as though in pain.
“What have I done?” he lamented. He stepped backward and bumped into a wood beam. It knocked a chain from a shelf with a loud, metallic racket.
Cyrus growled again. I bent beside the dog.
“Cyrus, down! Relax! It’s just Gerald.”
In a flash, words Hirythe once told me came swimming back to me.
I’d trust the diary with Cyrus before I would Bram.
Why should I calm or quiet this pointer? He had led Edward to the river and rescued me. Was it possible Cyrus was more than a garden variety canine?
I looked at my hand patting his neck and wondered.
“What are you doing?” Edward asked out of the side of his mouth.
I stood and walked toward Gerald until the tip of the iron hook touched my neck.
“Gerald never wanted to destroy the diary. Did you, Gerald?”
Gerald’s panicked eyes shot around the room. He was afraid of something. This large, powerful man acted like a spooked child. I recognized those eyes. I had seen them in the looking glass.
They were touched by magic.
It unfolded in my mind like the answer to a riddle. The only reason Gerald would destroy the diary is if he either feared it, which was unlikely, or if he’d been put up to it. If he’d been put up to it, he’d need either a good incentive or a harsh stick ready to strike. Given his current state, I had to think it was the latter.
Jeremy. Who else?
But I was afraid to talk about Jeremy in front of Edward. I was afraid to reveal any magical information in front of Edward. If he had enchanted me, was he in league with Jeremy? Why rescue me from the water or fight Gerald on the boat. Was it all for show?
Nothing made sense.
If this was a plan, I wanted to disrupt it.
“You can go, Gerald,” I said. “We won’t follow you.”
Gerald leveled his brows.
“Luella, we can’t let him go,” Edward hissed behind me.
“You’re lying,” Gerald said.
“What purpose would I have in trying to prevent your leaving? We’re friends.” I put a hand on the iron hook and lowered it.
“He’s seen you.” Edward stepped closer behind me, trying without purpose to whisper. “He’ll go to Cooper.”
“And tell him what? That I’m not in my prison cell? That I’m somewhere outside?” I folded my arms. “Telling Cooper that he saw me in a dock house somewhere in Dawnhurst won’t exactly have the hounds at our heels. We’ll be long gone by the time he can get an audience.”
“I’m not going to the police.” Gerald shook his head erratically.
“He would say that.” Edward scoffed.
“You’re on the run again?” Gerald asked me. Inch by inch, his temperament was returning to the sarcastic friendship I’d enjoyed in the past. “Is it the same thing you told me about in Reading, at the Forbury Gardens?”
I nodded.
“It’s worse. They have Bram in custody now. He’s confessed to the crime, though I know he didn’t do it.” I clenched a fist as I left out the part where I asked Bram to confess on my behalf.
Gerald slumped back against a worktable. It protested under his weight.
“They have Bram for murder?”
“Not necessarily,” Edward replied. We both turned to him. “We’ve arrested him in connection to a supposed murder, yes, but a magistrate will have to determine whether there’s enough evidence to charge him.”
“So, his willing confession about killing your father won’t be enough evidence for a magistrate?” I asked flatly. Now, anything Edward had to say about Bram triggered a heightened sensitivity.
“I just wanted to be accurate,” Edward muttered. I turned back to Gerald.
“Where will you go?” Gerald asked me.
I shrugged. My mind still reeled from Edward’s betrayal. How was I supposed to focus on anything, let alone this conversation? “Back on the run.”
I could feel Edward holding back his response. Doubtless, he would want us to go back to Fernmount. There he could barricade us in the propriety of status and cross-jurisdictional difficulties.
But I wouldn’t abandon Bram to his prison just to be trapped in Edward’s mansion.
“What will you do?” I asked.
“Back to Reading, I suppose,” Gerald replied. “Try to find the rest of the fair workers.”
“You’d abandon Bram? He’s your friend.” Perhaps it was too much to hope that Gerald might become a fruitful ally. Really, I just wanted a chance to meet with him again out from under Edward’s watching eye. Perhaps if we were alone, I could prompt him to divulge what happened, how Jeremy had reached him, and what leverage he had.
“There’s not much I can do for him if he’s gone and confessed to murder,” he said. “The damned fool. Did he do that for you?”
I didn’t respond. Uncomfortable creaking and Cyrus’ growls filled the room.
Gerald stared at me derision tugging at the crow’s feet around his eyes. “You never appreciated him,” Gerald said. “Bram was a good man. It’s a shame he gave his heart away to a terrible woman.”
“I deserve that,” I said.
“Well, enjoy your wedding. Try not to let Bram’s fate bother you too much when you’re nice and situated.” Gerald lumbered over to the door.
“People can change, Gerald,” I called after him. “Especially with help.”
Gerald dropped the iron hook unceremoniously.
“What could you do to make up for all this?” Gerald laughed cheerlessly, shook his head, and disappeared into the night.
Chapter 2: Safehouse
The dock house felt all the more empty and cold without Gerald there. Edward, usually eager to speak his mind, brooded quietly in the dark.
Gerald’s parting words stung. He never had been afraid to tell me how he saw things without censure. I valued that honesty.
He was right, in any case. Everything was my fault, and this time, I couldn’t hide behind the comfort of ignorance. I schemed, connived, denied the truth in front of me in order to manipulate my life into what I wanted it to be.
As a result, the man who had sacrificed more on my behalf than all but my father stood behind bars, awaiting an unfair trial and an unjust verdict.
As tears fought their way to my eyes, my teeth chattered. The cold pressed on my body heavily like an icy blanket.
“Can’t we start a fire or something?” I asked, rubbing my hands together. “We’ll die from exposure here. My hands are numb.”
Edward looked at me, mouth twisted into a wounded grimace.
“How do you know Gerald so well?” he asked. I gaped. Really? Edward wanted to ask me about the extent of my relationship with the strange carnival and its workers now?
“What does that matter, Edward? I’m freezing to death.”
Cyrus trotted around and sat on my feet. Edward shook off his emotions, but not without evident effort.
“Right. We can’t start a fire. It’ll draw attention to us.”
“Don’t you have friends in the city or something?”
“My father had friends in the city. They’d ask questions. Too many questions. What about you? Don’t you know anyone that—”
He cut himself short.
“That what? Wouldn’t mind housing a criminal?”
He shrugged sheepishly.
“Well, yes.”
“Just because I’m not wealthy doesn’t mean I associate with thieves and robbers,” I said bitterly. This comment would not have incensed me a few days ago.
“I thought that—”
“You should know better. You served the city. You know its inhabitants. Has it taken so brief a time to look down from Fernmount, Lord Thomas?”
I spat the words, expecting my anger to feed itself, the magical illness within me to exacerbate, but nothing happened. The magic inside me was gone. I never thought that finally being rid of the ailment would leave some type of void, yet when I reached for that ever present anger to give me power, I came up empty. It was gone.
Edward sighed.
“You’re angry with me because I let Gerald destroy the diary,” he said. “I understand. After all we went through to get it, I should have been more vigilant.”
It wasn’t Edward’s fault Jeremy stole the diary. It was mine. But Edward’s attempt at remorse did not inspire any sympathy. This was an act. The grey eyes that reflected the moonlight coming through the window were cold and calculating. They filled me now with fear. He was a shell of the dream I allowed myself to believe.
That I still relied on him, that he had leverage over my situation, filled me with dread. My only tool now was the secrecy of my discovery, and I wanted to prolong that advantage as long as possible, even if that meant play acting.
I swallowed.
“I’m sorry, Edward. That was uncalled for. After all you’ve done for me, I should be grateful. I don’t blame you for the diary. It’s just so cold. I’m not myself.”
“There’s no need to apologize.” He crossed the gap between us and pulled me into his arms. I let him, trying not to jump or wince. I was playing a game of chess. Both of us were setting up our gambits, lining our defenses. Heaven help me when it would all inevitably unravel “If there’s no place you can think of, we may have to risk returning to my family’s for the night. In any event, we’ll need to track down Rebecca and Doug to warn them about what happened. They may need to go into hiding as well.”
Returning to his family’s tenement was out of the question. It would be the first place Cooper would look. Doug’s pub would be second. Rebecca’s flat third. If only I had more friends.
Then it hit me.
“Come to think of it, I may know someone.”
If Mrs. Crow was startled by a wet, shivering trio on her doorstep in the middle of the night, she didn’t show it. She opened the door with a tallow candle in one hand and an old table leg turned club in the other. It was a side of her I’d never seen before, but one that naturally fit the story of her life. Widows are, more often than not, frail or ferocious.
When she recognized my face and the haggard fear on it, she ushered the three of us in without a word.
It wasn’t until she had locked the door firmly behind her and set her candle on the table that she wrapped her arms around me and wept.
“I never thought I’d see you again, my dear. Oh, but you’re freezing. Come sit near the stove. I’ve spent it for the night, but it’ll have some heat still until I can get it started again.” She hurried me over to a chair. I took it gratefully and put my hands near the stove’s metal to catch any residual warmth. Edward bowed his head.
“I owe you my most sincere gratitude, miss,” he said. Mrs. Crow sized him up before looking at me askance.
“Now, what’s a proper man like this doing with you in the middle of the night?”
“It’s a long story,” I said, shivering. “Cyrus, come here.” The pointer bounded over and sat between me and the stove. Mrs. Crow fumbled with kindling and pulled a log from a sad reserve of firewood in the corner.
“A beautiful dog,” she said as she worked.
“I owe him my life,” I replied. That much was true. If I could trust anything, I knew Cyrus to be a loyal and benevolent Burgos Pointer.
Edward pulled a kitchen chair beside me and sat down.
“We’ll need to do something about those clothes, or lack of them,” Mrs. Crow said after she had ignited a small flame. Edward had ripped off the skirts that weighed me down in the river, down to my corset cover and petticoat. I still clutched the canvas I’d stolen from the dock house, but I was not what you’d call presentable.
“Please, don’t trouble yourself too much,” I said. “Edward can go and retrieve something for me.”
“Don’t worry,” my old neighbour replied. “I think I may have something your size. A remnant of my youth.”
I nodded. “Thank you.” Flamelike pins started pricking the tips of my fingers, a merry sign that I may yet save them from frostbite.
“As for you, Mr.—?”
She paused to allow Edward a chance to fill in his name on her behalf. He stuttered and looked to me.
“Oh, it’s all right,” I said. “I trust her with my life. You can trust her with yours.”
“Thomas,” he replied. “Mr. Thomas.”
“Well, Mr. Thomas, I may have something for you as well. It’ll be a bit old-fashioned, if you don’t mind,” Mrs. Crow went on without missing a beat. She must have been referring to some remnants of her late husband’s wardrobe. I winced. The cherished keepsakes of Mrs. Crow’s late husband on the shoulders of this man…
“Old-fashioned is quite fine. Thank you,” he said, rubbing his hands together.
“As for you…” She looked at Cyrus before opening a cupboard and pulling out a stale biscuit. “We should get you dry as well. I’ve a towel somewhere in here. Come, then.”
Cyrus looked at me as if to ask permission. I nodded towards her, and he eagerly followed Mrs. Crow from the room. I turned to Edward.
“I don’t mean to rush you finding warmth, but one of us must go find Rebecca and Doug.”
“You can’t be seen. In a few days, I’ll have a carriage take you to Fernmount by night.”
“We can discuss that later, but first, our friends need safety.” I put a hand on his shoulder and looked into his eyes. “Please. Once Cooper learns I’m on the run again, he’ll apprehend them for questioning, if not for more. I won’t have anyone else in a cell because of me.”
He took my hand and kissed it. His whiskers scratched my cold skin, and a sick nausea rose in my throat. His touch frightened me, and I took my hand back quickly. A brief flash of his eyes hinted that he noticed.
“I’ll change my clothes and go. Stay here until I’m back.”
As if I had anywhere else to go…
He left the room to inquire about his new outfit, leaving me alone to stare into the flames. As they licked at the small log in the stove, memory of Hirythe’s study plagued me. If I closed my eyes, I could all but see Charlotte’s portrait hanging above me.
What had I done?
It was strange sitting in Mrs. Crow’s kitchen. It looked so similar to the one across the hall, the flat my sister and I had rented for so long. Mr. Stringham would have undoubtedly found new tenants already. I was sure they’d have adjusted everything to fit their own tastes. Now it was just a door across the hall from Mrs. Crow’s flat. The past is always a locked door.
Except in the Netherdowns.
I wrung my stiff hands. The diary was gone, resting at the bottom of the Severn, as waterlogged as the copy of Dr. Rupert’s Uncantation, the spell I’d considered using on Bram to disconnect us, to kill him, perhaps, at Edward’s suggestion…
Now, Jeremy was inside his old comrades’ memory, hell bent on destroying it, and I could not assist them. There was a single page left of the diary, and it was sitting in a prison cell on the outskirts of the city.
I could not retrieve it without getting arrested again.
There was an idea. Turn myself in. Cooper’s officers would arrest me, and if I was lucky, they’d put me back in the same cell, with the page still there. I could use it to go back into the Netherdowns and stop Jeremy somehow. Then, I’d manage to find a cure for Charlotte. Of course, we’d all exit the Netherdowns back into my prison cell, assuming the police didn’t burn the page in a rubbish bin.
I shook my head. The word “if” multiplied like country rabbits.
Even if I managed to stop Jeremy, Bram was still arrested. Every pathway led me there in the end. I had ruined Bram. He would either hang, Jeremy would destroy his memory, or both.
Mrs. Crow sat down beside me and rubbed my back.
“Now, now, dear. Let’s just get you warm.” She tucked a threadbare blanket around my shoulders, fussing a bit to get it laying just right.
Edward emerged from her room wearing a long coat and a loose collar. He kissed me on the head, sending a shiver of revulsion down my spine. Then, he instructed Mrs. Crow not to answer the door under any circumstance and stole into the night. She locked the door behind him.
As soon as he left, a heavy weight lifted from me. My whole body started quivering as the anxiety rushed out and my pretenses gave way.
Mrs. Crow stoked the stove gently.
“You probably have no small number of questions,” I started. She waved a hand.
“As far as I’m concerned, you’re innocent. And if you’re not innocent, the gentleman likely deserved it.” I blew out a large sigh of relief, but her shoulders sagged. “I told you wrong those months ago. I never should have suggested seeking out Byron for help.”
I coughed. That was becoming a ready theme for my life. Never ask Byron for help. Recognizing the irony helped to calm my nerves.
“You’ve more than made up for it. Despite everything, listening to you pretend to be a desperate lover in front of the police will remain one of my fondest memories.”
“You’re too young to talk about memories like that,” she replied. “You have your entire life ahead of you.”
My entire life seemed so far away, a shore miles from a shipwrecked sailor.
“I’ve ruined everything,” I said.
“It can’t be all bad,” she replied. She scratched Cyrus’ head. He looked very comfortable beside her, a change from his posturing toward Gerald. “What’s this here?”
She leaned forward to inspect the dog more closely and pulled the fur back behind an ear. A nasty looking cut lay beneath.
“Poor Cyrus,” I said. “I haven’t inspected him since we were reunited.”
“This doesn’t appear self-inflicted,” Mrs. Crow said. “Someone must have beat him.”
It might have been Gerald. It would explain why the dog had been so aggressive toward him.
“I can’t even protect a dog,” I said, rubbing my forehead.
“Come now. It’s not all your fault.”
“It is. I was meant to keep him safe. I was meant to keep Anna safe. I was meant to be a good friend, a good daughter. Mrs. Crow, I’ve made the most terrible mistakes.”
The small fire had thawed my frozen eyes, and tears leaked from them.
“We all make mistakes, Luella.”
“Not like mine. I’ve played with people’s lives and with powers that were so far beyond me. I was arrogant and foolish and intentionally blind. I’ve hurt so many people I care about.”
“Perhaps you can turn it around,” she said.
“It’s hopeless. I have nothing to work with.” I caught myself before babbling on about magic. I did not want to risk Mrs. Crow thinking I’d gone crazy. “There’s something wrong with me.”
We sat without speaking for a minute. The fire crackled like a third party to the conversation.
“Do you see that portrait on the wall?” she said, motioning with her head toward the likeness of her late husband. I struggled to lift my head up. “About a month before we married, I was despondent. The entire world caved in on me. We’d been courting for about two months at the time, and I my emotions got the better of me. He was so charming, his energy was so infectious, that I reluctantly opened up my heart to him.”
I looked at her curiously. She stared at the portrait on the wall and mechanically continued petting Bram’s dog.
“Why were you despondent?” I asked. She took a deep breath.
“Because about a year before, in a moment of terrible weakness and foolishness, I had lain with another man.”
My mouth fell open. A feeling of awkwardness chased out all of my dread.
“I—Mrs. Crow—”
“He proposed, and I was scared, so confused that I said yes. Immediately after, I feared he’d find me out. I tried to put off the wedding, but I failed to come up with any valid excuses. The date came hurtling toward us, and my shame would be discovered by the person who mattered most in the world.”
“What did you do?” I asked.
“I worked the courage up to tell him. It was the most frightening day of my life. Now that I knew what love was, how could I risk letting it go? I sat him down and as stoically as I could manage, explained what had happened.”
She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes.
“I’ll never forget the pain on his face. It was terrible and so human. He cried in front of me, and I couldn’t do anything but sit there. Sit there and suffer. What’s worse, feeling pain or causing pain? When he composed himself, he looked at me and took my hand.”
Cyrus rested his head on her knee.
“He said, ‘We are not the choices of our past, not even the sum of them. We are tomorrow and today.’”
The words brought a fortifying smile to her face as though she tasted sweet syrup.
“We had hard times. Neither of us forgot about the road behind, but we lived that credo together to the best of our ability.”
I abandoned my stolen canvas wrap, feeling warm enough now to attempt drying my clothes. Once, I imagined Edward could be as honorable as Mr. Crow. Now, I doubted that belief.
“I mean no disrespect,” I said. “I’m happy that your husband was such a forgiving and saintly man, but I don’t have that luxury. My relationship with Edward was built on a lie.”
“I’m not talking about Edward.” Mrs. Crow turned impatiently. “Luella, enough is enough. I don’t know the details of your situation, but you are defined by more than your relationship with Edward, or another man, or your sister. You are tomorrow and today. You’re a writer. You’re a powerful woman with more strength in her than you’re willing to let out. You’ve made choices, as we all have. You can’t erase those consequences, but don’t imagine for a second that the eldest daughter of Jerry and Emma Winthrop can’t conquer whatever it is you’re facing.”
A kettle started singing. I gaped at her as she crossed the small kitchen to pour some tea.
“Bram is in prison,” I said. She didn’t know who Bram was, but it hardly seemed to matter at this point.
“Does he deserve to be there?” she asked, handing me the teacup. I shook my head. “Then get him out.”
“Edward betrayed me,” I muttered. She scooped a spoonful of sugar into my cup.
“Then leave him.”
My mouth dangled open.
“They’re hunting me for the death of his father.” She poured a small portion of milk in after.
“Prove them wrong. But first, get changed before you catch pneumonia.”