The Changeling Bride (29 page)

“The poor folk were not the only ones who loved the stag. There was also a fairy woman, still young by the way they reckon age, still foolish. Tisk may not have loved the stag as the humans did—I do not know that she was capable of such an emotion—but she appreciated its beauty and had no wish to see it despoiled by the likes of Bartholomew.

“She also, it is true, wanted a good story to tell her
friends, who made a competition of causing mischief, and so she decided to interfere in the hunt and save the stag.

“The hunt was long and arduous, and one by one the pursuers gave up and returned to the castle. By the time the stag began to slow, there were only the dogs and Bartholomew left.

“The dogs cornered the stag against a rock wall. Bartholomew lifted his gun and readied to fire. At once a vision appeared before him, of a heavenly woman garbed in robes of light. It was Tisk, of course, masquerading as an angel.” Elle found the glowing vision and watched the fairy woman raise her hand, commanding Bartholomew to stop.

“She declared that this stag was the protected of God. A lie, of course. Fairies have nothing to do with religion. ‘Go from here and leave this holy creature in peace,’ she commanded.

“Unfortunately, Bartholomew was a thoroughly wicked man. He was of the belief that God had already blessed him, and he did not need heavenly creatures telling him what to do.”

Elle moved down the tapestry, and saw the stag lying on the ground. Blood began to run in pulsing rivulets from its wounds, and a hound tore at its flank. The other hounds pursued a flitting white figure, that appeared and disappeared between the trunks of the trees. Elle followed it through several inches of tapestry.

“He shot the stag, then set his hounds after Tisk. Fairies have no power over animals, did you know that? The dogs snapped at her heels, they tore her garments, and Bartholomew thundered after them on his horse. She had no time to escape through magic, for the dogs would have had her at any pause.

“A hound sunk its teeth into her thigh and brought her down. Bartholomew caught up and dismounted, and tore away what remained of her clothes. The dog’s teeth in her leg prevented her from vanishing in the fairy way.

“He set the dogs to hold her by arm and by leg, and he fell upon her, as men who are weak in their secret hearts will do.

“When he rolled off her, and the dogs released her, she disappeared into a small ball of light. Bartholomew tried to capture even that, but she was too quick now that she had regained her senses and was free of the dogs. She left him sitting there on the forest floor, only torn remnants of her clothes to tell that he had not rutted with the dirt.”

Elle came to the end of that tapestry, the ball of light floating off into nothingness. She moved to the other side of the bed, to where the tapestries continued. “What is this castle? Surely Bartholomew did not get away with it?”

“Several months later Evangeline, Bartholomew’s wife, came to bed in childbirth. In the small hours of the morning she brought into this world a baby boy. Bartholomew had been drinking with his companions in the hall below and was too drunk to awaken, even to see the heir he had been awaiting for many years.

“Dawn came, and the women who had fallen asleep at Evangeline’s bedside awoke. There was a light in Evangeline’s eyes that scared them. She held her baby in her arms, and she said to them, ‘Look, do I not have a beautiful daughter? My lord will be so pleased.’ The women told her, ‘No, milady, you have a son. A strong boy, to grow up like his father.’ And Evangeline uncovered the child, and it was a girl.

“ ‘I would not sentence a child of mine to live as my husband’s son. The boy is gone. This child I shall raise as my own and cherish her every day for freeing my son.’ ”

Elle watched as the tapestry woman bent her head and kissed the infant in her arms. “What happened to the boy? And where did the girl come from?”

“Tisk had borne Bartholomew’s child. A creature half
human and half fairy, the baby girl could not stay in the land of her mother. Tisk was not attached to the child, but she had some small feeling for it.

“She decided that as suitable punishment for his crime, Bartholomew should have his precious son taken from him, and put into the home of poor crofters far away. Tisk’s child was placed in the boy’s stead, a changeling, ever the worst fear of a human parent. Any parent but Evangeline, who was glad enough to make the exchange. Knowing that her daughter’s life would be a hard one, Tisk left her one gift, which she carefully explained to Evangeline.

“ ‘The child shall have one boon, a wish of her choice to be granted by the fairy folk. Tell her of this, when she is old enough to understand and to use it wisely.’

“Evangeline was a good woman, and she raised that child as her own. When the girl was old enough, she explained the gift and the truth of her birth to her. Life in Bartholomew’s castle was not easy, and many times the girl wished to escape, but always she knew that she had that boon. It gave her strength, for she knew that if ever life got bad enough, she could use it. The unendurable became bearable, for she knew it was her choice to endure, not her sentence to do so.

“The years passed, and she was married to a man who proved to be far less wicked than her father, and while not all that she could have wished for, she had found a comfortable enough life for herself. She bore children, and no matter the hardship that came her way, she held tight to her boon, and she never used it.”

“Why not?” Elle asked, watching the young woman walk along the shore of a lake. “Wasn’t there anything she wanted?”

“There were many things. She was always afraid, though, that someday she would need it, if not for herself, then for someone she loved. And as she grew older, she began to see another truth.

“We cannot forsee what will happen to us. We cannot forsee when a calamity will transform into a blessing, or a blessing into a calamity. What if she used the boon, and despite her good intentions the results were evil? It seemed the wisest course not to use the gift her fairy mother had given her.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” Elle said, “for you just might get it.”

“Yes, that was her fear. She grew old and watched the tragedies of her family, and chose not to alter so much as a single event.”

“That’s the end of the story?” Elle asked. She had reached the edge of the final tapestry, where a woman sat in a window, her face older than it had been in the garden. A breeze moved her hair, and then died down, and the tapestry returned to being mere cloth on the wall. “That’s not much of an ending.”

“But it is interesting, do you not think?” Lady Annalise asked. “Most fairy stories tell of wishes granted and fulfilled, not a wish that is never used. Do you think you would have used the boon, had it been granted to you?”

Elle smiled. “I sincerely believe I would have been too foolish to resist.”

Elle stepped from the secret door out into the front hall and found a flurry of activity.

“Ellie!” a female voice called joyfully. “Oh, I am so happy to see you!”

Elle barely had time to focus her eyes upon Louise before her ersatz sister was upon her, hugging her and showering her with kisses. “Louise. What a surprise. What brings you here?”

“Your brother-in-law and a coach, if you want to speak literally,” Louise laughed, gesturing to Henry’s younger brother, Frederick, who was being assisted from his greatcoat by a smiling Thomas. “An invitation from
your husband and the unbearable situation at home, if you want the more figurative truth.”

“Henry invited you? He didn’t tell me.”

“Of course not, silly. He wanted it to be a surprise. He wrote to Father, saying that he was certain you would enjoy the company and implying that he might be of help in finding me a suitable match. I think he said that last part only to prod Father into permitting my visit,” Louise confided. “Father would love to marry me off for less money than he had to expend to get the earl of Allsbrook into the family.”

“Weren’t you involved with some young man? George something or another.”

Louise took on a tragic expression. “Father found out, the day after you left. ’Tis why I have not written. I have been too overcome by my loss.”

“Yes, I can see the grief is still subduing your spirits. I take it George wasn’t up to battling for your hand.”

Louise wrinkled her nose in disgust. “I have had an awakening in regards to poets. They are more interested in putting words together than in honoring the sentiment behind those words.”

Elle laughed.

“We have so much to talk about, Ellie,” Louise sighed. “I am so happy to be here. I thought Mother’s fussing was going to be the end of me, now that she does not have you to worry about.”

“I’ll have Abigail bring you to your room, and then later we can have a long chat, after you’ve recovered from your journey.”

As if sensing her summons, Abigail appeared at Elle’s side and led Louise off up the stairs. Elle watched them, her put-on smile sinking at the corners. How long would it take Louise to figure out that all was not as it once was with her sister, without an impending wedding to distract her?

“Do I call you ‘sister’ now?” a male voice asked her from behind.

Elle turned to Frederick, who was much as she remembered him from the day of the wedding, and still apparently consumed by an irrational dislike of her. He was the same age as she was supposed to be, eighteen, but her seven years of hidden seniority negated any threat he might pose. She could handle him with her eyes closed.

“Lady Eleanor will do for now, Frederick, and welcome home. Thank you for escorting my sister to me: I am relieved to know she was in such capable hands.” There was nothing like good manners to ruin a bad attitude.

“The pleasure was mine,” Frederick said, frowning at her, and then his face softened. “Your sister is a delightful young lady, so gentle of heart . . . with the eyes of a doe.”

“Do you by any chance happen to write poetry? I’m certain she would love to hear some, if you do.”

His face colored slightly. “I must find Henry. If you’ll excuse me,
Lady
Eleanor?”

“By all means, brother Frederick.” He sauntered away, but his lanky frame lacked the grace and confidence of his brother’s. He’d be a piece of cake.

“You wanted a word with me, Lord Allsbrook?” Louise asked.

“If you have a moment.” Henry stood and gestured towards a chair in his office. He had forgotten he had invited Louise to visit, what seemed like a lifetime ago. His mind lately was capable of focusing on nothing but Elle. “Did you have a pleasant journey?”

“Quite pleasant, thank you,” Louise said, seating herself. “Your brother made a charming escort. I would like to take this opportunity, if I could, Lord Allsbrook, to thank you again for inviting me to visit, and so soon after
the wedding. You cannot know how I have missed Eleanor.”

“You two have always been close, then?”

“Yes, although perhaps not always amicably so. We had awful rows when we were children. I think we have learned since then to accept each other’s faults.”

“You knew that she did not want this marriage.”

Louise colored slightly. “We discussed it. She did not know you, after all. And what girl wants to have her husband chosen for her with no regard to her own wishes?”

“An understandable position. One day she is happily ensconced in the home she has known all her life, and the next she has been whisked away by a stranger, to live far from those she knows and loves. I think Eleanor might be in need of a bit of familiar female company.”

“Has she been nervy, then? She always could be irritable, and she was ill shortly before the wedding, you know. Father did not give her a chance to effect a full recovery.”

“So she was not her usual self?”

“I do not see how any young woman could be, at such a time. But do not fear, my lord. I see clearly enough what you are asking. If my presence can in any way ease Eleanor into her new life here, then I will be most happy to listen to her concerns and lend a sisterly shoulder of support.”

After she had gone, Henry sat and rubbed his face. He was sorry he had sent for Louise. His wife was like no one he had ever met, and their relationship frustrated him to the point where his jaw ached from the constant clenching, but he did not need her sister to know that Elle had all her faculties intact.

Lately, he had been the one losing his grasp on reality.

“I almost think you like her,” Frederick accused.

Henry cast a bland eye on his brother. “Is that so unforgivable
in a husband?” It was late, and the rest of the household had retired. They sat alone by the fire, cravats undone, enjoying the quiet.

Freddie’s company was not the only reason he was in the drawing room instead of his bedroom with his wife: For the past few nights, ever since Elle had brought him to his knees with the skills learned from other men, he had been avoiding joining her in bed until he was certain she would be asleep. He did not know if he was afraid of her or of himself. All he knew for certain was that he had no idea
what
he felt.

How could he berate her for the knowledge that had brought him yet another sexual encounter the likes of which fantasies are made? And at the same time, how could he either accept or forget her decidedly checkered past?

“She does not seem quite as bad as I had thought,” Freddie admitted. “Although her sister is much more to my taste.”

“I noticed.”

“Do you think she did?”

“I would not worry about it.” While Freddie had been moon-eyed over Louise, Louise had had eyes only for Lawrence Peabody and had plagued him with questions and flirty comments throughout dinner and the inevitable hours of socializing in the drawing room. Lawrence, his mind filled with drainage systems, had been oblivious.

The most curious element of the evening, though, had been Elle’s behavior towards her sister. From his talk with Louise, it sounded as if they were close to one another. Elle, however, almost seemed uncomfortable near her sister. He even got the sense she resented Louise’s presence.

Freddie gave a loud yawn and stood, clapping Henry on the shoulder. “I am to bed. I must have my wits about me, if I am to capture the heart of the fair Louise before you force me back to school.”