Silver Hollow (13 page)

“The
Rumplekin
family has
been causing mischief in the Vale for the better part of this age! Always pulling the wool over the eyes of formerly wiser
l
ords and
l
adies, it is in their nature to tell half-truths. No better than Goblins, they be!”

“Goblins?” Amie queried while Underhill helped her up and rummaged for her parasol.

“Aye, cousins to me own kin…Just be grateful you’ve never met a Rumplekin! And Grimwich! Och! Most
ever-lackadaisical
fool you’ve set your eyes on!”

“Underhill?”

“No better than a
brimbled
troll he be!”

“Rachel…”

“Fool of a
tushmonger
!”

“Hey
,
you!” Amie waved her hands in front of the maid’s face and watched the blush fill her cheeks.
Underhill
blinked fitfully before a slow maniacal grin enhanced her round
cheekbones and creased her lips. Snatching the ridiculous
-
looking parasol from her hands, Amie promptly thwacked her maid in the skirts and growled, “Snap out of it! Are you going to show me why I’m dressed like Eliza Doolittle or are we
just
gonna gossip all day?”

Underhill
blushed to the roots of her chestnut hair.

…

Underhill refused to betray their destination until they were safely through the kitchens and out a door she had never been through before. Only two doors led away from Cook’s domain, one leading into the gardens and the other the stables.

Separated from the house by a winding path
drawing
parallel
to
the main road, the pathway to the house
-
sized barn was a quick descent. This particular road connected to the one Slaine used to bring her here. Yet after passing the furthest wing of the castle it split off two different directions. One way swiveled back into the dark forest and the other turned to the stables.

For the first time Amie was treated
to
her first hint of the grounds. To her right, the endless hedgerow rose high, hugging the back of the manor. To the left were even more wings to the colossal vine
-
covered fortress. With its curtain of ivy and pale ivory flowers covering its columns and towers, the house seemed to have sprouted from the earth. From this vantage point it was plain to see her new home was a castle and it was unlike any she had ever seen before in the movies.

Eventually the path fell off a shallow dip of a green hill and from there stretched on forever. Unprepared for the open slope, Amie paused at the crest of the hill and blinked against the sudden sunlight. A sea of heather
-
swept emerald grass rippled with each gust of wind
and
stole her breath away.

“Come
,
milady!”
Underhill
charged back up the hill to beckon her and called, “He will not accept anything but punctuality.”

Doubting the merit behind Underhill’s threat
,
Amie nevertheless rush
ed
after her.

The stables were deceptively small and bordered by a giant
-
sized corral. On closer inspection Amie realized this was because half of the barn was underground. She thought she could see the outline of the closed
-
in carriage
that
had born
e
her to the end of her journey. At the mouth of the tall wooden structure, another open
-
seated black buggy was being polished. Amie
almost didn’t recognize Slaine’s footman
when he wore his cap tightly over
his mop of sun
-
kissed hair
.

“Halloo!”
Underhill
skipped ahead to meet the boy.

Amie wanted to crawl into herself at the prospect of seeing those unsettling eyes. But he never once peeked up from his polish, even as Underhill badgered him.

“Where is Mr. Cutterworthy?
We did nay see glimpse
nor hair of either of ye two old dragons at breakfast!”

The tall boy visibly flinched when the wind spoke, carrying the inflections of a craggy voice to their ears.

“Eddie! Ye mangy waif! Where are your manners?” Slaine limped around from the nearby fencepost, though Amie could have sworn he hadn’t been there the moment before. She couldn’t help smiling at the first face she had seen upon entering the Vale.

Slaine wore a far less formal attire while off duty apparently. His breeches came up his waist, held up by plaid suspenders. While his plaid vest lay open, unbuttoned, it was partially covered by a calf
-
length gray trench coat studded with buttons. Silvery curls tossed madly wherever his bowl cap didn’t hold
them
in place.
A
s before, his pale eyes focused on her and a peculiar grin etched into his grizzled face.

“Elisedd Underhill, I see you’ve brought me the Emerald Eyes and not a smidgeon too late!”

Underhill
crouched down until her legs were lost in a mushroom of skirts at Eddie’s feet and waved her hand. “Oh aye!” she called, “Forgive our belated arrival. She was stubbornly underdressed for the occasion!”

Eddie predictably said nothing while observing everything. Much as she was coming to love her uncle, Amie wondered if he were secretly the only sane person in this theme park. As if her thought had summoned him, for one brief disturbing moment the stable hand craned his neck and met Amie’s eye.

Slaine winked as he took her arm in his. “Survived
the
mad house, have ye? I never could stand to be stuffed and puffed indoors like them clever ones.” Still leading her round the side of the barn and towards the corral, he continued, “Special ways ye must play to inside the great house
. N
ever too carefully can you tread.”

Amie had to wonder as the house had seemed nothing more than an old ruin, albeit creepy at times. Clouds gathered overhead as though sensing the shift in their moods. It was every bit
a part
of the Northern English countryside then, a comforting reminder of where she was.

Slaine was still watching the house on the hill above with a wary eye when he caught her sneaking glance. “Ye might not know it
,
Jessamiene, but we were all tied to that place once. Solemn vows are not something one can burn away. Some aren’t in the habit of forgiving the breaking of powerful words.”

“What do you mean?”

He unhinged the gate with an uncanny grin. “Oh
,
you’ll know soon enough
,
Jessamiene, mark me. Meantime, do your best to poke your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“But you just said…”

“Eddie, lad! Miserable
bushwickle
,
get on with you!” Slaine called with a toss of his head.

Her eyes widened as the redhead led two stubborn
,
sturdy horses down the slope. “What is that?”

“Why
,
I won’t have a Wenderdowne not know how to ride on my watch!” He grinned, one eye slightly more focused than the other.

Hence the split riding skirt…oh crap
,
you are such an idiot! That’s why there was a riding hat!
Amie shook her head at her inner musings. The only time she’d ridden horses was with a friend down the street in elementary school. If Amie’s father had known at the time he probably would have put her under house arrest.

Turning to Slaine, Amie said, “Are you sure this is such a good idea? I’m not exactly an expert
,
you know. I mean, I know I live in Texas, but
th
at
doesn’t mean we all ride horses. What about Uncle Henry? Surely he wouldn’t approve of this.” When she saw the cabb
ie
’s grin widen with each of her protests, she knew it was pointless to resist.

Eddie glanced briefly at her as he passed. Hanging his head and hunching his shoulders, he pulled the giant beasts into the corral.
Underhill
giggled and called out encouragement after hopping onto the fence and rocking against its post. Even though she still had no definite idea what he looked like, Amie could spot the blush on his fair skin from here.

He doesn’t like the attention.
Can’t say I blame you, buddy.

Slaine held
a proffered fruit before
both horses’ noses, waiting until he had her full attention. “First lesson you will learn
,
Jessamiene Wenderdowne, is these beasts can be gentle or wild as your inner nixy. Observe…” With one swipe of his hands the fruits had disappeared and the eccentric driver’s countenance changed. Dark shadows tainted his
features.
Untamed
fury shook from his every limb, leaving a mad creature
in his wake. The horses shifted on unsure feet, then began to buck and toss their heads the more Slaine allowed his rage to fester.

He growled above the sudden gust of north winds, “Without your own inner beast tamed ye can never tame the wild ones around ye!” His
eyes glowed with a subtle fire, distorting
his pale eyes to a blood
-
red pallor. His fingers pushed
i
n
together, against an
invisible weight between
his
thumb and palm. When his voice grew louder Amie shivered, backed against the fence Eddie and Underhill had taken refuge behind. “To tame the beast
,
” Slaine continued, “
y
e must know it first!” At this he slapped the hindquarters of either horse and both let loose a terrifying scream.

Amie’s voice was hoarse yet no sound escaped her throat. Only the sound of the horses’ hooves pounding into the earth beneath her boots crashed through the silence as they charged her.

“Set it free
,
Jessamiene!” Slaine continued to roar.

All sound dragged painfully around her as she breathed deeply and blinked.
Amie froze in motion and listened to the sound of
her heartbeat thudd
ing
in her ears. How was she supposed to set it free when she didn’t even know what
it
was?

“Let it go!”

The russet
-
coated horse tossed its head, the whites of its eyes showing as it halted inches from her skirts. Dirt flew in thick clods onto her face as it skirted
her
and plunged to the side. Fear and frustration choked her, yet she found herself shouting over the din, “What am I supposed to do?”

“Run!”
Underhill
screamed, terror replacing her amusement
,
a
nd time dashed to catch up. This
was when she snapped, the moment she heard both laughter and fear in her maid’s voice.

Adrenaline pumping, Amie darted to the left
when
the stallion rushed her again, then she ran. Her boots clung to the mud quickly taking place of grass in the corral. Amie didn’t care
that
s
he was ruining her fine clothes for the second day in a row,
though Underhill was certainly
cringing by now. She was more concerned with not being p
u
mmeled to death by a beast whose nose the top of her head didn’t even meet.

Slaine’s voice somehow m
et her ears as she darted again
in time to miss the charge. “Grasp its mane
,
child!” he said.

Her blood raced almost pleasurably. Amie hadn’t run this fast in ages. She hadn’t had a reason to really and the rush of it was too satisfying at the moment. Endless thoughts and images thrust to the forefront of her mind. Until
she could see
if she twisted to the right at the last possible second, grasped at midair for the hair she
knew
would be there and flung the rest of her body into the air, she might make it out of this alive.

Amie blinked and gasped when her chest impacted onto the hard muscle of the stallion’s broad back, then clung on for dear life. She squeezed her thighs down until her bone
s
felt
they
would dig through her skin. She was trembling and beyond exhausted and the horse wasn’t showing any signs of stopping. If anything it was only more enraged she had dared to mount it. Father’s ring dug into the skin of her chest and her scar burned a cool fire beneath it. Yet a strange feeling was rising up in her with a cavalcade of thrills, something akin to joy.