his typically tall and proud visage seemed
tired and frail. “Is that really you?”
“Yes, it’s me.” She extended her arms
through the bars of the gates. “I’m finally
home.”
Trayburn’s eyes were sparkling with
tears as he hugged her through the bars.
“Oh child, I thought we’d never see you
again.”
He released her and she looked up at
him, surprised by how much he’d aged
since she’d last seen him. “Unlock the
gates.”
Trayburn glanced over his shoulder
towards the main house. When he looked
back at Maralee, the concern in his brown
eyes was unmistakable. “Go back to
wherever you’ve come from, miss,” he
said. “I won’t tell anyone you were here.”
He started to walk away, but she
caught him by the sleeve. “I know what
has been going on,” she said. “Aunt Bailey
has taken all of my money and I stand to
lose everything. I’m not giving up though. I
mean to take back what is rightfully mine.”
Trayburn turned and looked at her. His
smile was weak, but genuine. “You are
just like your father, do you know that?”
“Open the gates, Trayburn.”
He shook his head. “Leave Dubwar,
Maralee. It’s for the best.”
“Damn it, Trayburn,” she said
savagely, “open this gate right now or you
can consider yourself fired!”
He chuckled, and ran a knuckle down
her nose. “Just like your father.”
She stamped her foot angrily. “Are you
going to open these gates or do I have to
get really ugly?”
He chuckled again, not intimidated by
her threats in the least. “I’ve missed you,
kid,” he said, reaching into the pocket of
his jacket. He pulled out a ring of keys and
held it out to her through the bars. “Let’s
just say I misplaced these somewhere.”
She took the ring from him and he
headed back to the house, an amused little
smile on his thin lips.
Maralee was confused by Trayburn’s
behavior. Perhaps her aunt had given him
orders not to allow her inside the gates, or
maybe there was some other reason why
he was trying to keep her away. In any
case, she didn’t plan on standing outside
the gates gawking at his retreating back.
She began to search the ring of keys for
those that might open the gate. After
several failed attempts, the lock clicked
open. She swung both gates wide and
secured them open with the pegs that fit in
holes in the ground. These gates would
stay open for as long as she remained
here. She remembered Nash telling her
she was obstinate the first night they’d
met. She wondered what he would think of
her now. Determined not to lose herself in
memories of Nash, she remounted her
horse and directed him towards the
stables behind the main house.
At first, things looked as they had
always looked at the manor, but as she
rounded the end of the building, she pulled
her horse to a stop in utter amazement. It
seemed her aunt had been making some
improvements to the property in her
absence. A formal garden replaced the
small vegetable patch her mother had
tended. It stretched onward as far as she
could see. Meandering paths connected
bushes, trellises, benches and fountains.
She had never seen a more extensive
garden in all of her life. It must have cost
a fortune. Her fortune.
While the garden was beautiful and
pleasing to the eye, she knew that she
could have put the money spent there to
much better use. Her father would have
been absolutely appalled. The forest,
which had once come within yards of their
house, had been cleared away for a wide
pasture. Dozens of sleek, highbred horses
grazed there. The stables had once been
modest quarters for half a dozen sturdy
and practical animals. Now, it had been
replaced by a brand new building at least
five times larger than the previous
structure.
Maralee dismounted and led the horse
towards the new stables. She didn’t know
if the stable master would be the one of
her memory, but surely, she could find
someone willing to return the horse to the
livery in Dubwar. Inside the stable, she
spotted a young man pitching hay in one of
the stalls and made her way towards him.
“Excuse me,” she said.
He gasped and turned to look at her.
His eyes opened wide with astonishment
and he tossed the pitchfork aside before
racing towards her. Maralee squeaked in
surprise when the young man picked her
up off the ground and spun her around in
ecstatic greeting.
“Miss Decatur!” he said. “You’re
home!”
“Oh,” she gasped. “Yes, I am. Would
you mind setting me down now?”
He complied without hesitation and
she looked up at him questioningly. He
had pale blond hair and blue eyes, a
strong jaw and a wide face, and though he
was staring at her with unmistakable
familiarity, she had no idea who he was.
“You don’t remember me?” he said,
chuckling merrily. “I guess those kisses
made more of an impression on me than I
made on you.”
She searched her memory. “Billy?”
she asked incredulously. “Mr. Trayburn’s
grandson?” The last time she had seen
William Trayburn he had been sixteen
years old. He had watched her from
whatever tree or bush he happened to be
hiding in. She had thought he was quite a
nuisance at the time. She wasn’t sure how
she’d ended up kissing him good-bye
when she’d left to rid the world of
Wolves.
“So you do remember me,” he said,
taking her hand and pumping it up and
down. “We didn’t think we’d ever see you
again.”
“I’m here to stay.”
Billy’s face fell. “Then you haven’t
heard.”
“If you’re talking about Aunt Bailey
gaining possession of the manor, then yes,
I’ve heard. I’m not going to let that happen
though.”
Billy’s face lit up with another smile.
“That’s our Maralee!” he said and
grabbed her for another unwarranted hug.
She struggled out of his grasp, but he
didn’t seem to care that she was
unreceptive to his attention. “Is this your
horse?” he asked, looking at the animal
she had brought into the stables.
She glanced at the drab brown horse
behind her. He stood, flicking his tai
l
unconcernedly.
“Actually, a Wolf killed my horse a
couple of months ago. I rented this one
from the livery in town and hoped
someone would return him for me,”
Maralee said, glancing up at Billy
hopefully.
He smiled. “I’ll take him back right
now.” Billy stepped around her to take the
horse’s reins.
“Let me give you something for your
trouble,” she offered, reaching into her
cloak pocket for her coin purse.
Billy shook his head. “It’s my
pleasure, Miss Decatur,” he told her. “It is
reward enough just to see your beautiful
face again.” When Maralee’s eyes
widened, the broad shouldered stable
master chuckled. “Don’t look so shocked,
Miss Decatur, surely you realize that I’ve
been in love with you since the first
moment I saw you.” She shook her head.
He laughed. “Well, I must have been all of
four years old at the time.”
“Billy, you shouldn’t say such things to
me,” Maralee admonished, her cheeks
flaming with embarrassment.
Billy laughed again and mounted the
rented horse. “I suppose you’re right, but
it doesn’t mean it’s not true. Gidyup!”
The horse trotted forward, hooves
clomping on the bricked floor. Billy
turned the horse towards the open stable
door and offered her a cheery salute
before directing the horse out of the
stables.
Maralee watched him leave, more than
a little out of sorts. After a moment of
staring after him completely dumbfounded,
she smiled and actually found the ability
to laugh aloud. She really was home and it
felt more wonderful than she had ever
imagined it could.
CHAPTER 44
Maralee stood outside of the front door of
the main house, took a deep breath and
turned the doorknob. She stepped inside
the entry hall and was assailed by
memories of lifeless bodies and bloody
paw prints. She closed her eyes and gave
herself a mental shake. That was the past.
This was her future. Move forward, not
backward.
“Aunt Bailey,” she called cheerily,
having already decided to pretend that she
was blissfully ignorant of the entire
situation. “I’m home!”
There was the sound of breaking glass
from the parlor just ahead, the same parlor
that had an uncommonly dark crawlspace
hidden beneath it. Thumping footsteps
approached and Aunt Bailey appeared in
the doorway. Maralee couldn’t decide if
Bailey was shocked by her unexpected
appearance or truly terrified. In any case,
the woman was as pale as a ghost, which
stood in sharp contrast to the black fur
stole draped across her narrow shoulders.
“M-M-Maralee, what brings you
home?”
Maralee
smiled
warmly
and
approached her aunt, giving the waxy-
looking woman a kiss on the cheek. “Well
you told me to come home if I wanted to
see the rest of those ancient books,”
Maralee reminded her, “and well, I must
admit I was a bit homesick.”
Maralee glanced around the room and
took note of the expensive tapestries and
furnishings that filled the room to
overflowing. They seemed completely out
of place. Maralee’s mother had decorated
with sparse care. The few ornaments that
had once decorated the manor house had
each held special meaning. Now it seemed
that the manor was screaming with
possessions chosen for their sheer
monetary value.
“You should have warned me of your
homecoming in advance,” her aunt said,
lifting a hand to her throat. Maralee’s
attention fell on numerous obscenely large
gemstones bedecking each of Bailey’s
long, bony fingers. Her aunt moved her
hand to a more obscure location behind
her back. “I could have had your room
aired out and a suitable dinner prepared.”
“I’m sure we’ll make do,” Maralee
said. “Would you mind if we caught up a
little later? I’ve had a long trip and I’d
like a hot bath and a long, peaceful nap
before dinner.”
“Um…um…well, I sort of had your
room converted into a closet,” she said,
“but my old room has been converted into
a guest room which I’m sure you’ll find
comfortable.”
Maralee bit the inside of her lip so she
didn’t tear into the woman with vicious
words. After a long second, she smiled
with simpering sweetness. “So, where
then, will you sleep?”
“Well it seemed sort of ridiculous for
the master suite to go unused so—”
“I see,” Maralee interrupted, knowing
that she was likely to attack the woman if
she stayed in her presence any longer.
How dare her self-important aunt claim
her parents’ chambers as her own? During
her childhood, Maralee had insisted her
parents’ room remain untouched. “I’ll see
you at dinner then, Aunt Bailey.”
“Of course, my dear. I’m looking
forward to hearing what you’ve been up
to,” she said with a false smile.
“I’ll be looking forward to hearing
what you’ve been up to as well,” Maralee
said, her tone as cold and hard as her
heart felt at that moment.
Her
swallowed
hard,
but
managed to keep the false smile from
sliding off her face.
Maralee
headed
to
the
curved
staircase and made her way upstairs. She
glanced behind her to make sure her aunt
was not following and began to check the
each room on the upper floor. Her
brother’s room, just at the top of the stairs
was full of the furniture Maralee
remembered. It was stacked neatly, much
of it covered with sheets. She was glad
her aunt hadn’t sold it. The room next door
used to be hers, but she found her aunt had
not lied about its conversion into a closet.
The entire room was packed with racks of
clothes, coats and stoles, stacked with
hatboxes and shoeboxes, and lined with
small drawers that housed her aunt’s
enormous collection of unmentionables. It
was
unrecognizable
as
Maralee’s
bedroom. She didn’t open the door to her
parents’ room, certain she would become
enraged by the changes bound to have
occurred there. Their bedroom had been
like a shrine
to her after their deaths. She
had spent countless hours sitting in the
center of their wide bed imagining the
blankets draped around her were their
comforting embrace.
Maralee continued to the end of the
hall where the two guest bedrooms were
located. The first was the room her aunt
had once occupied and the second had
always been used as a guest room.
She ignored her aunt’s old room,
preferring to claim the second as her own.
It was a bit stuffy, but of all the rooms she
had glimpsed thus far, this one had
changed the least. She realized she was
still clinging to her past, longing to return
to a home unchanged in her absence. But it
should be her decision to change things in
her ancestral home, not her backstabbing
aunt’s.
Maralee crossed the room and opened
both sets of tall windows. This room had
once overlooked the forests behind the
house, but now had a spectacular view of
the new gardens. Maralee sighed and
tossed her knapsack on a nearby chair.
She opened the door to the connecting
bathroom. She was surprised to find the
bathroom had been fitted with new
plumbing and after a few moments of
fumbling with knobs, she was able to start
a flow of warm water out of the bathtub
tap. She wasn’t sure how expensive such a
setup was, but she was delighted by the
effects. No more waiting for servants to
lug heavy buckets of hot water up the
stairs. Once the tub was full, she shed her
clothes and climbed into the water,
sinking beneath the surface. Now, this was
bliss. She’d forgotten how good a hot bath
felt after having spent so much time at
Nash’s cabin washing with frigid water
from a hand pump.
She also forgot how likely one’s
thoughts were to wander when soaking in
a tub of warm water. For the first time
since she’d left the Wolf village behind,
she realized how lonely she was. God, she
missed Nash’s presence in her life. By the
time she found the frame of mind
necessary to wash her body rather than
stare off into space, her bathwater had
grown chilled.
She hurried through her wash and once
finished wrapped herself in a large, fluffy
towel before returning to her room. She
dug around in her knapsack until she found
the last of her clean clothes and hurriedly
dressed. She realized the servants were
better dressed than she was, but it didn’t
matter. She hoped to do a little snooping