Netherford Hall by Natania Barron

Author:Natania Barron [Barron, Natania]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781837863358
Amazon: B0CW1D3YR4
Goodreads: 213388309
Publisher: Solaris Nova
Published: 2024-08-12T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

What Remains

Though the plates and chafing dishes were piping hot, the temperature in the great hall was frigid. Auden had done all he could to ensure the aesthetics of the room reflected Edith’s station, status, and rank, but given the gloomy skies and the strange incident in the Powder Room earlier in the day, the company and conversation were stiff.

Auden had not had a great deal of time with the Rookwood-Nourses, but he did not think they were terrible people. A bit straightforward for gentlewitches, he supposed, but living in the Americas would account for that. They were not rude, exactly; but their directness was unsettling, like tea with an unusual spice. Auden had once been given tea with a pinch of cardamom in it, and he had not yet recovered from that shock. Good, plain, English tea was good enough on its own. Anything more was simply gauche.

“I must thank you again, Liege Edith, for having us at such short notice,” said Lady Rookwood-Nourse while they waited for the second course. “It was quite a shock to us to arrive in London and find, well, such tragedy. We did not know the extent or terms of the oath, but I never would have wanted it to end in such a way.”

“It was indeed a great tragedy,” said Edith, not glancing up from her plate. “For all of us. But time has passed, and the wounds begin to heal. Being here in the house has helped me greatly.”

“Has no one looked into the cause of the fire?” Giles asked. Apparently his impertinence did not surprise his mother or his sister, for they merely turned to Auden and his niece with expectant expressions upon their faces.

Now, Edith did look up. Then, she reached for her goblet of mead and swallowed a rather impressive gulp. “I would have it no other way. Uncle Auden and I stayed in London for almost a year,” said the liege. “We had the parish constables and the night watch tracking down known troublemakers, and the Bow Street Runners investigated at length. The Witchery Protocol themselves sifted through the remains. We did not find any instance of foul play, magical interference, or anything else. It was a fire. A fast-moving fire. An act, as the local vicar might say, of God.”

“And yet there was a survivor,” said Petronilla. “Our cousin, little Henry. I have not seen him about.”

“He is young, and best served by keeping to his studies. He’s with his tutors at present,” said Edith. “Though I do hope you aren’t insinuating that he had anything to do with the fires.”

“There have been stranger stories,” said Petronilla. “He may not have caused it, but the circumstances around his survival are certainly curious.”

“I don’t suppose someone has questioned the lad?” added Lady Rookwood-Nourse.

Edith pulled at her cuffs, and Auden inwardly cringed. She was already losing her patience. “He endured more hardship in a single day than most do in a lifetime. I cannot allow more trauma to be thrust upon him.

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