Page 53 of Bane Bloom

This brought a confusing gush of heat, but also relief. My whole life I’d striven not to ever really need anyone. Certainly I loved Papa, and the money he made with his paintings supported us. And Nancy made my life easier. But my own drive, competence, and practicality made me feel safer than any person ever had. Until now.

Upstairs I peeled off my wet clothing and took a dress from the bureau. For the first time ever, I found myself wishing for something that wasn’t black. I’d brought a shawl Papa had given me, finer than the oft-mended one I’d been wearing, knit from woad-dyed wool. It was a pleasing powdery blue-gray, and Papa had suggested I wear it to offset my mourning garb when we attended church or a dinner party.

After running a brush through my wet hair and leaving it loose to dry, I wrapped the blue shawl around my shoulders and spent a few moments inspecting myself in the glass.

I was still taking in the things Thomas had said. Since coming here, I’d begun to see how much my mother’s abandonment had shaped me. Not just in tangible ways, like my black clothing, but in the choices I made. I’d begun to see how I’d stuffed away my anger and hurt, thinking it the best way to move past her abandonment, when in fact doing that had had the opposite effect.

“I see a woman who is in many ways stuck as a girl.”

And heaven knew what dark fate would have awaited me there in the lake had I swallowed that flower petal. With a jump of my heart, the wild man at the window returned to my thoughts. I struggled to accept that it had been Mr. Carroll.

I’d been upstairs for some time now, so I turned from the glass and started down again, afraid that Thomas might finish his task and leave the house despite his promise.

Dusk had come on, and he’d lit every candle in the dining room, including the chandelier, and the fire burned brightly. How grateful I was for the warmth and cheery glow of it all. Though the sitting room might have been more comfortable, I welcomed the distance from the glasshouse.

Thomas stood at the hearth, staring into the flames. He didn’t turn as I came down, and I called to him, “I’ll make coffee.”

He glanced at me, eyes a little distant, and gave a soft nod.

I’d rather have gone directly in to him, but at the last moment I realized I wasn’t sure how to be with him now. Clearly we’d moved beyond surliness and secrecy, and three times he’d inserted himself between me and the perils of this place, yet we were still far from at ease with one another.

Thomas had anticipated me and lit the cookstove, so I had a pot of coffee made in no time. From the last clock chime, I knew it was near suppertime, so I sliced more of Annie’s bread, along with a wheel of cheese I found on the cold stone, and carried everything out to the dining room. As I poured the coffee, I noticed a vase full of cowslips and wondered whether they were the ones I’d picked earlier.

I slid our cups to the other side of the table and went around to sit near Thomas, in the chair closest to the fire.

“Should you not change out of your wet clothes?” I asked him. My eyes lingered a moment on his abdomen, where his shirt had stuck, giving a view of the sun-bronzed flesh beneath.

“I’m all right.” He folded his arms and fixed his gaze on me, igniting a flame in my belly.

I cleared my throat and lifted my cup, burning my tongue on the first sip. As I reached for the milk, I asked, “Was that truly Mr. Carroll at your window earlier?”

“Aye.”

“What has happened to him? I mean, I understand that it had to do with the Bane Bloom. But is he mad, or . . . ?”

“He is a woodwose.”

I frowned. “I don’t think I know what that is.”

“A wild man of the forest. They’re creatures of ancient woodlands.”

“Are they dangerous?”

“Sometimes. Especially when they serve as guardians of a place.”

I recalled what Thomas had said about Mr. Carroll wanting to be caretaker of Pine Cottage. Fairy tricks indeed. “And that’s what he is.”

Thomas nodded. “He has lingered about the edges of the property, most of the time peaceably and out of sight in the bluebell wood, or among the willows alongside the beck. A woodwose is usually a shy creature. But at times he grows bold, and I chase him off.”

“Heavens,” I breathed. “Is there nothing that can be done for him?”

“If there is, it’s beyond my knowledge. It’s possible the spell might be undone with fairy magic, but I’d be afraid of making things worse.”

I shivered and pressed my hands to the sides of my cup, trying not to imagine what could be worse. He bent and tossed another log onto the fire.

My voice faltered as I said, “Thomas, I wish to thank you for what you did today. I wish to thank you for saving me from a similar fate.”

His eyes came to rest softly on my face. “Nay, lass. I told you the truth about the Elfbloom, and you made your choice. I understand the state you were in, and I know how hard it was to resist. It was my own fault that you ever came close to it.”