Page 55 of Bane Bloom

My heart thumped as I waited for him to reply.

“It’s in my Nature”

Thomas

She might have been a nymph herself, dark hair lying glossy against her neck and shoulders. Dark eyes glittering in the firelight. How well I remembered the first nymph I’d encountered, bathing at the base of a waterfall hidden deep in a gorge on Red Pike. A thin place of forever twilight, very difficult to reach. A place of magic and breathtaking beauty. The encounter had taught me to be wary of nymphs, and I was no less so of Catherine Gray.

Catherine had no wish to ensnare me, of that I was certain. But I could not have said the same of myself.

It’s in my nature, after all.

She watched me now, trusting me in a way I could never have foreseen. In a way that wasn’t right for either of us. The boundary that existed between us when she arrived should never have been breached. Yet had it not, she would have suffered a similar fate to Mr. Carroll.

“Why should you care, Thomas?”

The house had never tested me as it had outsiders. There had been no need. I was of the house. Yet I was being tested, and sorely. There was that in my nature that urged me to follow my heart’s desire with abandon and make off with my prize. Hide her away in some safe and secluded place and possess all the secrets of her mind and body.

But it was only half my nature, and the other half—the Bane half—was as lost and confused as any man who’d ever wanted a woman he should not.

As any man who’d come to care enough for a woman that he understood the best thing he could do for them both was to let her go.

Depths

“Thomas?” I could see his mind working. Secrets lurked yet behind his beautiful eyes.

“I wouldn’t like to see harm come to you, lass,” he said at last. “No more than I wished to see it come to Mr. Carroll.”

It was a perfectly reasonable answer, and yet wholly unsatisfying. I looked down, slightly abashed. What had I expected him to say? Had I let myself think I was somehow different from Carroll?

Rising from my chair, I said, “Please wait here a moment.”

Avoiding his gaze, I lifted a candlestick from the table, left the fireside, and went to the sitting room. Kneeling before the reading bench, I brushed back a new bloom from the encroaching vine, took the cranky drawer in both hands, and tugged it open.

I pushed back the smaller items in the drawer and discovered—no diary. I wouldn’t have left it out, but I ran my hands under the pillows and seat cushion anyway.

“Gone, is it?” Thomas had quietly followed me into the sitting room.

“I’m certain I left it here.”

“I don’t think she trusts me with it.”

I glanced nervously around the room, as if I might find Prudence Bane watching us from a corner.

Thomas let out a chuckle, and I stared up at him. “It’s all right, lass.” He held out his hand to help me up. “You don’t scare easy, do you?”

He didn’t release me right away, and for a moment I wasn’t able to call upon either thoughts or words. His hand was warm, completely enclosing mine, and his grip gentle. We were standing close. Close enough that his breath stirred the shorter strands of hair around my face.

At last I managed, “I’m not especially brave. It’s just that I don’t believe in the things that are happening here.” His lips twitched at this mangling of what I had intended to say. I shook my head. “I mean, I didn’t. I think my new understanding of things hasn’t quite caught up to my skepticism.”

Now he released my hand. “Once that happens, I imagine you’ll be ready for your train to London.”

His words reminded me of the question I’d hoped to confront and answer earlier, when I’d gone to the glasshouse (and instead ended up confronting myself). What now? Did I continue my work for the Society? The fact that I needed a way to support Papa and myself remained. I still intended to write my herbals. But I had new questions now, too. How did Thomas factor into all this? In the course of trying to protect me from his family’s legacy, he had told me things he’d never intended to. Things he wouldn’t want the Society to know.

I let out a sigh and said, “My reasons for coming here haven’t changed. Though I can well imagine you’re ready to put me on that train yourself.”

“It’s best if you put Pine Cottage behind you, lass.” My heart slumped down toward my stomach. “I wouldn’t like to see—”

“Harm come to me.” I gave him a weak smile. “No more than Mr. Carroll.”