Page 98 of Bane Bloom
“Comes with a cost, yes, you’ve said so.”
“The fair folk may offer help when they mean harm,” explained Thomas. “Even when they mean well, they may do harm.”
Harding’s eyes narrowed. “I would very much like a straightforward answer to my question.”
Thomas and I exchanged another glance. I had a newfound appreciation for his behavior upon my arrival. How much easier to shut people out than to persuade them to believe the unbelievable, even when it was for their own good.
“We believe Mr. Carroll longed for release from London,” I said. “And hoped his study of the Elfbloom would earn him the curatorship of Pine Cottage so he might remain here. He has instead become a kind of guardian. I suspect you were attacked because of our discussion about the Society’s plans for sale of the property.”
“Mr. Carroll was not the first,” said Thomas, drawing Harding’s gaze. “My grandfather, wishing to be with his wife again, created the Elfbloom with the help of the fairies. His wish was granted in the form of his own death. My mother, in her loneliness, used it, too, and the result exiled her from her own kind.”
“And it almost happened to me,” I said. “I was lured into the lake, just like Mr. Carroll, and given an Elfbloom petal. Thomas came in time to prevent it.”
Harding studied the two of us, calculating. Were we scheming? Were we mad? “I don’t suppose there’s documentation of any of this? Written by anyone other than the two of you?”
I let out a sigh. “As you know, Arthur Bane’s writings were destroyed. Prudence had a diary, and I’ve read some of it, but it’s gone missing in the last few days. Carroll left behind nothing but his unfinished work.” Nothing good could come of telling the curator that Carroll’s papers, too, had been burned.
“Naturally,” said Harding. He lifted his glass of brandy water and drained it. “I wish for time to recover myself and consider what you’ve told me before continuing our discussion. Is there someplace more private that I might do so?”
I looked at Thomas. “I’ll light the fire in my grandfather’s room,” he said.
He started upstairs, and I said, “A meal might aid your recovery, sir. We’ll see what we can do about that while you rest.”
He made a noncommittal noise that I took for As you like.
I fetched his cane and offered an arm to help him upstairs. Once I’d settled him into a comfortable chair by the window, Thomas and I left him and closed the door.
Together we went to the kitchen to assess luncheon options.
“He doesn’t believe us,” I said, dismayed, as Thomas added wood to the stove’s firebox.
“Even if he did,” he replied, “I’m not sure how it would help us.”
“If I’m going to convince him not to sell Pine Cottage, we first need him to trust us.”
He looked at me, brows lifted. “And how do you propose to do that, lass?”
“I haven’t quite figured it out yet.” I let out a sigh and surveyed the worktable. “Unless there’s the possibility of fish, I suppose eggs and more toast will have to do.”
He shook his head. “I’ve not had my net out today. Even if I had, I’d not leave you after what happened with Carroll.”
“You think he’ll come back?”
“I don’t know. He’s come close to the house before, but he’s never done anything like this.”
Noticing the blood on his neck again, I reached for a dish towel and dipped it in the water pitcher. Then I dragged a stool from beside the door, climbed up, and began dabbing it away. His hand came to my waist, and I shivered. I followed the trickle up to a lump above his ear and gently cleaned it.
“I’ll go out and pick some cress by the beck,” he said, “and fetch cider from the cellar.”
“Yes, let’s keep him drinking,” I replied, laughing quietly. “I don’t suppose you could glamour him?” I was only half joking.
“Aye, I could. But it wouldn’t last long once he left.” He thought for a second and said, “Do you know lemon balm?”
“It’s a member of the mint family, I think? Smells like lemon drops?”
“That’s right. Might help us. It grows in the kitchen garden. There should be some young leaves already.”
“I’ll pick some while you’re gone.”
