The Rooks of Misselthwaite- in the Forgotten Garden by Alydia Rackham

Author:Alydia Rackham
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9781547180035
Published: 2017-06-04T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

​Lily sat on the edge of the huge four-poster bed wearing a clean, dry nightgown, the cold compress bandaged to her ankle. She shivered, pushing back the dull pain, watching as Isabelle moved swiftly and quietly around the tall, ancient room. Lily sat facing the white fireplace, where a new fire danced. Above the mantel hung a gold-framed painting—a figure of a classical woman with very long red hair, standing in a meadow. She pointed dramatically to her right, her tresses and white gown blowing in the wind. Lily absently followed her gesture, to trace the beautiful carvings around the doorframe, and the thick, beaten door itself. On the other wall, to her left, hung faded tapestries of a forest and a medieval hunt. The room smelled of old fabric, and the sweet scent of peat burning in the fireplace. To Lily’s far left, a window up high looked out across the moor—or it would, if thick fog and absolute darkness didn’t obscure everything.

​“Did your servant make it back?” Lily asked, her eyebrows coming together as the wind howled. “The one Mrs. Medlock sent to Wythe?”

​“Yes, Miss,” Isabelle answered, grabbing a clanking fire-iron bending down and poking the fodder. The embers spat and sparked. “He came in right after you finished your dinner.”

​A thread of the tension in Lily’s chest loosened.

​“Good. I hope he doesn’t catch cold.”

​“Peter Sowerby? Ehh, he lives on the moor,” Isabelle answered. “He helps Ben Weatherstaff, and half the time lives away from the manor. He was bred in the wild—he could walk it blindfold. That’s why Mrs. Medlock sent him.” Isabelle put away the fire iron, and turned and faced Lily. “Now Miss, shall I brush your hair?”

​“Oh…Yes,” Lily nodded, wishing she could just collapse without doing that chore, but knowing she would regret it bitterly the next day.

​“Just turn about, Miss, if you can, and I’ll stand behind you.”

​Lily did as she was asked, wincing as she gingerly adjusted her foot. Isabelle took hold of Lily’s long hair in one hand, and began working the tangles out, starting at the bottom. Lily let her eyes drift shut, the throbbing of her ankle filling her consciousness.

​For a long time, Isabelle worked. Steadily, gently, in a rhythmic, soothing motion. Lily’s shoulders relaxed, and her head leaned forward. At long last, Isabelle began pulling through the tangles all around her crown. The comb massaged Lily’s head, easing her headache.

​“It’s a shame,” Isabelle mused. “You and your sister and guardian couldn’t have come visiting, at a better time.”

​Lily half opened her eyes, listening.

​“It would do this house good, to have regular visitors. Especially young ones,” Isabelle went on. “Might brighten things up a bit.” Isabelle took up Lily’s hair, and started braiding it securely.

“But…” Lily said, frowning at the wardrobe in front of her. “I thought he doesn’t want any visitors.”

“Ah, Miss,” Isabelle sighed, tying the end of the braid with a strip of cloth she had waiting. “But he does.”

Lily’s mouth opened—but she sensed Isabelle move away.

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