creation.”
I handed the jar back to him, careful not to graze his skin with any part of mine. I didn’t know why, or how, he’d burned me, but I did know I didn’t want to experience it again.
He turned away from me to close and lock the cabinet behind him. As the lock clicked in place with the dry turn of a key, Lord Grey spoke:
“I suppose I should begin with the roses, with how I created them. It’s the most logical place to start . . . maybe the only place.”
I shook my head. “Sir, what do you mean, you created them? You planted them?”
“No. That is not what I mean. I thought them into being.”
I blinked, the words still not making sense. “How is that possible, sir?”
His thin shoulders shrugged. “How can someone sing, or draw, or play the piano? It’s an ability I was born with and that I’ve nurtured, but I think you’re not as foreign to this type of thing as you’re letting on.”
I opened my mouth, but he waved my words away with a sharp hand.
“It doesn’t matter.”
Lord Grey’s hands twined around each other. The words he had already shared with me seemed to have erased some of the weary marks off his face—his brows were relaxed, his forehead smooth. He looked rather handsome.
The thought took me by surprise, making me blush in the lamplight.
“You don’t believe me,” Lord Grey said.
“Sir, I would never question your words.”
“But you don’t believe me.”
I took a breath. “Sir, it just seems unlikely.”
Without shifting his eyes off of me, Lord Grey exhaled, once, and my knowledge of the world tilted, never to be righted again.
The chair next to me, trembling with books, slid across the floor, not even a single book shifting in surprise.
“What just happened?”
“I made the chair move.” He said it with such lightness, such boredom, that I began laughing. Loud hiccups of hard laughter traveled up my body, shaking me from head to foot.
“Are you quite finished, Anne?”
I wiped my eyes, attempting to also wipe away what I’d witnessed. “Sir, I need to see it again.”
He rolled his eyes. “Fine.”
Without warning, the chair scurried back to its place.
My eyes were about to slip out of their sockets.
“If we are quite done with the demonstrations, I would like to continue. Sit.” His words were seeping with irritation. I wasn’t sure I had any words left.
“If it’s all the same, sir, I’d rather not.”
“Sit.”
I obeyed without another moment’s hesitation.
I placed the thick books on the floor and sat with care on the richly upholstered seat. He remained standing, fiddling with a loose string from his shirt cuff for an instant, then headed for one of the overburdened bookshelves. With only the slightest sign of hesitation, he plucked something from behind a pile of books and walked back to where I sat. He opened his hand, holding up the object: a small, perfectly round, silver mirror.
“Please don’t touch it, Anne. I’d rather not have to replace this, if at all possible. Can you see into it clearly?”
My face looked back at me, my dark eyes wide and my skin pale. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now pay attention, I’ll only do this once.”
He said one more word, one I couldn’t understand, and everything around me was swallowed by darkness. Everything except for the mirror, which glittered more than anything I’d ever seen before, more than any jewels any Lady could ever buy.
“Look in, Anne,” Lord Grey said.
I did.
Rosewood Manor rose in front of me, resplendent in the morning light. I blinked. How had I gotten here? How was it morning already?
I turned, hoping to spy some clue from my surroundings, but nothing explained what I was doing out here, when I’d just been in Lord Grey’s chambers.
Nor why all the roses were gone.
They were conspicuous in their absence, the red blooms which I’d grown so used to seeing and smelling. Actually, the entire manor looked different. Younger. But that wasn’t
I handed the jar back to him, careful not to graze his skin with any part of mine. I didn’t know why, or how, he’d burned me, but I did know I didn’t want to experience it again.
He turned away from me to close and lock the cabinet behind him. As the lock clicked in place with the dry turn of a key, Lord Grey spoke:
“I suppose I should begin with the roses, with how I created them. It’s the most logical place to start . . . maybe the only place.”
I shook my head. “Sir, what do you mean, you created them? You planted them?”
“No. That is not what I mean. I thought them into being.”
I blinked, the words still not making sense. “How is that possible, sir?”
His thin shoulders shrugged. “How can someone sing, or draw, or play the piano? It’s an ability I was born with and that I’ve nurtured, but I think you’re not as foreign to this type of thing as you’re letting on.”
I opened my mouth, but he waved my words away with a sharp hand.
“It doesn’t matter.”
Lord Grey’s hands twined around each other. The words he had already shared with me seemed to have erased some of the weary marks off his face—his brows were relaxed, his forehead smooth. He looked rather handsome.
The thought took me by surprise, making me blush in the lamplight.
“You don’t believe me,” Lord Grey said.
“Sir, I would never question your words.”
“But you don’t believe me.”
I took a breath. “Sir, it just seems unlikely.”
Without shifting his eyes off of me, Lord Grey exhaled, once, and my knowledge of the world tilted, never to be righted again.
The chair next to me, trembling with books, slid across the floor, not even a single book shifting in surprise.
“What just happened?”
“I made the chair move.” He said it with such lightness, such boredom, that I began laughing. Loud hiccups of hard laughter traveled up my body, shaking me from head to foot.
“Are you quite finished, Anne?”
I wiped my eyes, attempting to also wipe away what I’d witnessed. “Sir, I need to see it again.”
He rolled his eyes. “Fine.”
Without warning, the chair scurried back to its place.
My eyes were about to slip out of their sockets.
“If we are quite done with the demonstrations, I would like to continue. Sit.” His words were seeping with irritation. I wasn’t sure I had any words left.
“If it’s all the same, sir, I’d rather not.”
“Sit.”
I obeyed without another moment’s hesitation.
I placed the thick books on the floor and sat with care on the richly upholstered seat. He remained standing, fiddling with a loose string from his shirt cuff for an instant, then headed for one of the overburdened bookshelves. With only the slightest sign of hesitation, he plucked something from behind a pile of books and walked back to where I sat. He opened his hand, holding up the object: a small, perfectly round, silver mirror.
“Please don’t touch it, Anne. I’d rather not have to replace this, if at all possible. Can you see into it clearly?”
My face looked back at me, my dark eyes wide and my skin pale. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now pay attention, I’ll only do this once.”
He said one more word, one I couldn’t understand, and everything around me was swallowed by darkness. Everything except for the mirror, which glittered more than anything I’d ever seen before, more than any jewels any Lady could ever buy.
“Look in, Anne,” Lord Grey said.
I did.
Rosewood Manor rose in front of me, resplendent in the morning light. I blinked. How had I gotten here? How was it morning already?
I turned, hoping to spy some clue from my surroundings, but nothing explained what I was doing out here, when I’d just been in Lord Grey’s chambers.
Nor why all the roses were gone.
They were conspicuous in their absence, the red blooms which I’d grown so used to seeing and smelling. Actually, the entire manor looked different. Younger. But that wasn’t
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