A Treason of Thorns by Laura Weymouth

Author:Laura Weymouth
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Chicken House
Published: 2020-03-01T16:00:00+00:00

15

It’s not even dawn yet when I wake to someone knocking determinedly at my door. My heart leaps – Jed’s left the House by this time of day and Mira never knocks.

I tumble out of bed, pulling my dressing gown on as I go. ‘Wyn—’

But his name dies on my lips. It’s Esperanza standing in the hallway, neat as a fashion plate in her riding habit.

‘Your House let me in, after rather a lot of coaxing. I’m off to Bath,’ she tells me, everything about her brisk and businesslike. ‘Somebody’s going to have to convince my father that Falmouth’s being an absolute boor about Burleigh, and I’m the best person for the job. But I’m leaving you Alfred, in case you need anything, and in case anything new comes up. I think we’re close, though – we’ve got a list of two dozen port towns in Cornwall that my darling papa apparently visits every time he’s about to leave England. And maybe I can winkle something out of Falmouth while I’m in Bath.’ She kisses my cheek and I catch a breath of her jasmine scent.

‘Espie,’ I say. ‘Be careful, won’t you? Falmouth, he’s—’

‘Oh, believe me, I know,’ Esperanza answers. ‘But I’m quite clever, as it turns out, and I know the most shocking things about that hideous man. Secrets that would severely dent his reputation if they came to light.’

I shake my head. I don’t know how she manages, in her world of espionage and underhanded dealings and perpetual gossip. I’d wither and die if I had to live that way. ‘Where on earth do you get your information?’ I ask.

Esperanza waves a dismissive hand. ‘From all the girls at court, of course. No one takes us seriously, so we make the most efficient spies. Now I’ve got to be going if I’m to beat Falmouth into Bath. Be good. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.’

And then she’s gone, as quickly as she came.

I walk over to the window seat and pull Papa’s ledger on to my lap, not so much because I intend to look through it at the moment but from force of habit. Though I leaf through the pages, I can’t concentrate. The eastern sky is growing grey, and after a few minutes of restless fidgeting I dress hastily, then slip out of the House. The back woods are misty and green, though patches of mortar pockmark the forest floor. Birds sing in the trees overhead and a few bluebells still hold their bloom.

‘Wyn?’ I call as I wander here and there, not bothering to keep to the path. ‘Are you there, Wyn?’

I don’t really hope to find him. The truth is, he’s been on his way out since I got home – I think I just delayed the process. But I can’t reconcile myself to his absence until I’ve looked everywhere, and left no stone unturned. If something terrible has happened, and he hasn’t simply left, I’d never forgive myself for not keeping up the search.

‘Wyn?’

Somewhere overhead, a robin begins to sing, the liquid notes of its song carrying through the wood.

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