Page 54 of Bane Bloom

“How could it be your fault?”

He bent to pick up his cup. Such a delicate thing in his hands. “Pine Cottage was left in my care. I was warned by my mother to keep its secrets, and I have done so, using every trick I could. Those secrets left both you and Carroll exposed.”

“What do you mean by ‘every trick’?”

Frowning, he glanced into the hearth. “What small glamours I know.”

Glamours. Arthur Bane had made a reference to fairy glamours in his entry for bluebells. “Is that why I can only sometimes see the Elfbloom?”

He shook his head. “That is a trick of the plant itself. But I am the reason you would suddenly feel groggy or confused. And the reason Mr. Carroll often forgot what task it was that had taken him into the glasshouse.”

Thomas had carried on his family legacy in more ways than one, it seemed. “Your mother had magic, didn’t she?”

One of his brows lifted. “Mrs. Foss told you she was a witch.”

“She told me it’s what the villagers believed,” I said. “She was only answering my questions.”

He swallowed the rest of his coffee and set down the cup. “Aye, my mother used wortcunning. She learned apothecary cures from my grandfather and magical charms from the old books and relics he’d found in the house. Though by the time of his death, they had worked together so closely that I don’t think there was much difference in what they practiced.”

The reply I intended to make to this stuck in my throat and caused my heart to race. But I knew that it was time.

I set my cup next to his, and I took a deep breath.

“I know some of this already,” I confessed. “Thomas . . .” I waited until he’d met my gaze. “I discovered your mother’s diary in a drawer beneath the reading bench in the sitting room. I read a few pages of it. I was hoping to better understand what was going on at Pine Cottage, but I wish now that I hadn’t.”

I held my breath and watched him, a sinking feeling in my chest. For a long moment, he stood expressionless.

Finally he straightened, resting a hand on the mantel. “And what have you learned from it?”

Heat stung my cheeks, and I looked down. “Most of what you’ve just told me. Plus the fact that your grandmother drowned in the lake, and your grandfather and mother tried to bring her back. I had theorized that the Bane Bloom—the Elfbloom—might be a result of those efforts.”

When it seemed he wouldn’t reply, I said, “I’m sincerely sorry, Thomas. I don’t blame you if you can’t forgive me. I know how private you—”

“Nay.” Slowly, I lifted my gaze. He was still staring into the hearth. “My mother gave me the diary as soon as I was old enough to read and understand it. I kept it for many years, but when she died, I made up my mind to burn it in case it might fall into the hands of the apothecaries—as indeed it has. But from that day, I never saw it again.”

“You mean to say you lost it?”

“I mean to say it disappeared. I’m very clear about where I left it. But in some ways, my mother is still here, and I think she must not have liked the idea of me burning it.”

“Are you suggesting that—that it was taken by her ghost?”

“It’s not the only time such a thing has happened. I searched everywhere for it, including the drawer where you say you found it.”

I fell silent, letting this sink in. I had thought it strange that the drawer seemed to have opened on its own, though it was quite sticky. Had Prudence wanted me to find it? For what reason?

The logs in the fireplace shifted, sending up sparks. I took hold of a lock of my hair, coiling it around my finger—a nervous habit I’d long ago broken myself of.

Thomas’s eyes came at last to my face. “Are you warm enough?”

My heart fluttered. It seemed a miracle that he wasn’t angry. “Thank you, I am.”

I thought about how he’d waded into the lake after me, coaxing me to give up the Elfbloom—gently, never using his size or strength on me. Now he was spilling all the secrets he had sworn to protect.

“Why should you care, Thomas?”

He stared at me, surprised. He shook his head slightly like he didn’t know what I meant. My question had been abrupt, but I thought that he did.

“Why not let the fairies or spirits or whatever they are do as they liked with me? You owe me no protection. My presence has been an annoyance, and I’ve made it difficult for you to keep your promise to your mother.”