^^Image: The Gleaners byJean-François Millet, 1857.^^

Thomas

Everything was not rosy, however, when we returned to the inn. We found Ray tucked into a back corner, his clothes torn and face bloody. His hair was dishevelled and it appeared that someone had managed to rip a few clumps out. One of his ankles was bent completely the wrong way, and was swollen to twice its size.

"My God, Ray, what happened to you?" I shoved the table away and knelt down next to him.

He only groaned and twitched away from me, and that was what made Joshua round on the bartender.

"Oi. What happened to him? Who did this?"

"Them pirates," said the bartender, not looking up from polishing the same glass he'd been working on when we'd come in. "Scuffle broke out. Roughed 'im up pretty good."

"Bloody hell..." Joshua kicked a chair, so hard it went screeching across the floor and hit another one with a bang. "He needs a doctor."

"I'll go," I said, because I needed time to think. And if I should meet Blanchard, what we would say to one another. If he had indeed been the one to beat Emmeline, we would be meeting again, and only one of us would come out alive.

"Tom..." Ray said, distracting me. His hand was reaching for my coat sleeve.

I turned back to him. "What is it, Ray?"

"They said..." He took a breath in, and winced — he must have broken a couple ribs as well. "We don't know how to harness our powers at all..."

Then his head dropped backward and he was out cold.

I rode for the doctor's soon after, his words still echoing through my head. We don't know how to harness our powers. Whatever that meant, I knew one thing — there was something about us that those pirates, or whatever they were, liked. And it was something they wanted. It fit with the details of Emmeline's captivity, forcing her to produce fire and then beating her when it didn't happen. But we needed more information before even attempting a move against these men. That was a given. And if this wasn't enough to sway even Charles Ashbury, then I hadn't the slightest idea what would.

||

Emmeline

I did my best to stay busy while he was gone. Lucian and I went out to the garden and the fields, and although he insisted that the lady of the house not do any work, I argued that there was nothing else for me to do. I was not about to sit around all day while others served me. I wanted honest work and fresh air. And I wanted to fall into bed exhausted, so tired that the nightmares that Tom kept away would not visit me while I slept alone.

Which was why it surprised me when Lucian stopped his scything and squinted back towards the house, eyes shaded with one hand. I stopped my work as well — digging at the weeds in the grass — and picked out Mrs Shute, running down from the house faster than I'd ever see her go.

"What on earth...?" Lucian wiped his brow with the back of his hand, his straw-colored hair clinging to the sweat coating it. "She runs like the Devil's after her, she does."

"Mrs Shute?" I straightened as she approached, running my hands over the apron I'd borrowed from Peggy. They left streaks of dirt and blood from a blister on one of my palms. "What is it?" I called.

"Ashbury, milady," she panted as she skidded to a stop in front of us. She was not a thin woman, nor was she tall. But she was a swift runner when the situation merited it. "Come to call on the new mistress."

"Me?" I was taken aback, so much I couldn't speak for a moment. This man had a clear dislike for me, evident from the first time we met. "What's he want with me?"

"Rumours, milady. Didn't say what they were. He just wants to confirm them."

"Right." I was well aware of their existence. No one knew my past, my family, or where I'd come from, and yet Tom seemed to snap me up, sight unseen. But someone like me, with such a shadowy past I hardly knew it myself becoming wife to the Earl of Dorchester said something. It reflected on me, and on Tom. I hated to think I'd given him a bad reputation. "Tell him I'll be with him presently."

"Won't wait, milady." Mrs Shute was shifting from foot to foot. "Said he had important business in town, thought he'd drop in on the way."

"All right, then." I wished he'd given a bit more notice. I was in one of Peggy's plainer dresses — because now that I was a nobleman's wife, I didn't go around in trousers — and my unruly hair was tied back in a cloth. Not to mention I had dirt on my clothes and up my arms, and I already felt the burn of the sun on my fair skin. Ashbury would undoubtedly have something to say about that.

Charles Ashbury was waiting in the drawing room, standing by the fireplace and dressed impeccably as ever in tan breeches, black boots, and a dark purple coat that spoke of his gentle upbringing. He had helped himself to a glass of Tom's brandy, and looked up with a brow raised when Mrs Shute announced me and went out.

"Lord Ashbury," I said, giving him a bob of my knees and a bow of my head.

"Lady Dorchester," he replied, eyes and voice cold. "I must say, your marriage to a nobleman has done wonders for your manners."

"I would agree with you, milord." He meant to wound me, it was clear. I would not let him have the satisfaction. Not when the dislike he and my husband shared seemed to be transferred to me.

"Yes," he said, appearing momentarily baffled when I said nothing else. He recovered quickly, however. "What is a lady like you doing labouring out in the fields like a common farm hand? Should you not leave that work to the servants?"

"Just as you say, milord. There is work to be done."

He took a sip of the brandy he had helped himself to and then swirled it in his glass. "Yes. Work that is not suitable for a lady's delicate sensitivities."

"I consider myself perfectly capable of doing the work. In fact, it has done me good." It was partly true. I did not know what Tom's reaction would be to this visit, with Ashbury saying these things to me. Nor would I, because I was already planning to not tell him.

"I see," he said. "I only came, milady, because I had heard talk of Captain Haywood taking a new wife. Coincidentally, it happened to be around the same time he told us he had sheltered an unattached young lady under his roof. And now I see that you were one and the same in both stories."

"Your desire to seek the truth is admirable."

He scowled at that remark. "You mock me. Milady."

"Oh no, Lord Ashbury." I gave him my most pleasant smile. "It is gladdening to see someone of your station take an interest in me."

"You would do well to take me seriously, milady. I do not jest. I could make your time here very unsavoury indeed. For you and Lord Dorchester both."

"I would ask you to do the same, milord. After all, the rumour mill is run by the wives and daughters of society, is it not?" I raised a brow at him.

He spluttered in indignation, clapping his empty glass down on the sideboard. "Your husband ought to teach you how to hold your tongue."

"I am very practised in that, fortunately." I hesitated, ready to deliver the final barb. "But you must remember, if you threaten me, I will ensure that decision comes back to haunt you."

He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, but regained enough composure to bite out a farewell before he left. I let out the breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding. It took a certain kind of energy to engage in verbal battles like that, and I had fully expended my reserve. Ashbury had a bone to pick with Tom, anyone could see it. And he was fully prepared to fight over it with me as well.

||

Tom didn't return the following day, or even the day after that. His letter arrived, but it was dated from the day he left. I picked up the habit of walking out to the gate and scanning the road, waiting to hear the sound of his horse approaching. I hadn't admitted it then, but Ashbury's threat sat uneasily in my mind, and I believed he could do what he promised. If he decided to make his move, I would be powerless to stop it.

Five days passed into six, and I grew more restless. I was unable to sleep, plagued by visions of Tom being beaten mercilessly by the same coarse faceless men that had stood over my own battered body. Instead I would wander the halls, and it was then that I truly discovered the size of the house. It was a warren of winding corridors and empty rooms, many having seen no occupants for years. Dust rose from the rugs and the curtains when touched.

It was during one of these nighttime walks that I found a family portrait, hung in a hallway on the far side of the house. The man's eyes were the same as mine and Tom's, one gold and one silver. Next to him was Tom, no older than seven or eight. They resembled each other almost exactly. But even then Tom's wild black hair could not be tamed. Then there was his mother, the woman whose clothes I wore even now. She was blonde and fair, bright green eyes set in a delicate, heart-shaped face. Finally the baby, dressed in white. That must have been Francis, who Tom had only mentioned a few times. There was nothing distinct about him, his gaze a steady grey.

I turned from the portrait to face the window. The moon was full, and cast a silvery glow over everything. I drew my shawl closer around me and leaned against the frame.

"Where are you, Tom?" I whispered, my forehead dropping to the cool glass. "Where have you gone?"

After he had been gone a week, another visitor stopped in. It was Lady Violet, and that was how I remembered her forthcoming marriage to Lord Radford, Tom's friend. The sight of her was comforting all the same – knowing I had a female friend in this bewildering world made everything a little less frightening.

"Since we are about to become neighbours, I thought it only right to stop in," she said, when she had been shown in by Lucian. "And it seems both our men have been gone a week. This house feels so empty, if you'll pardon me saying so."

"I worry that something terrible has happened." I kneaded at my knuckles, much harder than was necessary. "Tom said he would only be gone a few days..."

"Lord Dorchester is a smart man." She laid one of her gloved hands on mine, squeezing it. "If anyone knows how to get out of a scrape, it is him. No doubt he has done it before, and he will do it again. Now my Ray, on the other hand..."

"Gets them into the scrapes in the first place?" I gave her a sidelong glance, a smile tugging at my mouth.

"God knows," said Lady Violet, with an eye roll that said Your guess is as good as mine. "If your husband is the loose cannon, mine is the rope that was meant to secure it and it snapped instead."

"That does not seem to be a good basis for marriage. Or for living life in general."

"My mother doesn't care a fig about that. All she knows is that the Radford name comes with a considerable prestige and fortune.: She sighed, exasperated. "If Ray had half the sense that Lord Dorchester does, we would not be having this conversation at all."

"Was it his idea?" I ran my hands over my dress and then clasped them in my lap. "To go to Southampton?"

She shook her head. "Joshua's. Having a young unmarried cousin does have its downsides. As we have all undoubtedly learned."

We sat in silence for a while, the clock ticking away the seconds. Then she turned to me again, her grey eyes shining.

"Ray has already told me that he invited you to our wedding, but it would truly mean a great deal to us if you came." She took both my hands, her grip surprisingly strong for someone with such delicate-looking hands. "Would you?"

"Of course we will." I smiled, grateful for the distraction. "After all, as you said, we are about to become neighbours."

"I hear that His Lordship is not much for ceremony of any kind. Is that true?"

"To him, it's better that it does not happen, yes." Our wedding was a clear indication of it.

"It's because of those rumours." She leaned in close. "Relentless. And most completely false. Between you and me, I believe they come from the old matrons of society...like my mother."

"I certainly believe it," I said, thinking of Ashbury's visit. "I was only curious...Charles Ashbury..."

"Oh, pay no attention to Ashbury," Lady Violet said airily. She waved her hand, batting away an invisible insect. "He has no real pull. His position with Elemental Advancement is really just another reason for him to put himself above everyone else. His father put him there to make him feel better. But he cannot actually do anything of real importance."

"But surely..." I could make your time here very unsavoury indeed. "He has some power?"

"Socially, yes, it's likely. Lord Northampton is a formidable enemy, without question. But as far as the law goes, he has as much authority to invoke it as I do. That is to say, none at all." She sighed, rolling her eyes. "His father's giving little Charlie everything he wants. The only son, and all of that."

I was about to reply when a clatter came from outside. Both of us rose out of our seats, as Lucian's running feet hurried towards the front door. Then as the latch scraped back, I heard him inhale sharply.

"Milord...?"

"Tom..." I made it to the drawing room door first and threw it open, seeing Tom's silhouette standing in the column of light coming in from outside. He held his hat in one hand, and his shoulders were hunched. But he was home, that was all that mattered.

||

Thomas

The moment I saw Emmeline emerge from the drawing room, I stopped in my tracks. She exhaled a breath of relief and her lips formed my name. I hadn't even stepped inside when she came forward, wrapping me in a tight embrace. I held her close and breathed in the scent of her skin and her hair. She smelled of something sweet and smoky.

"Tom...you came back..." She drew back, cupping my face. "I thought...surely...I was so worried..."

"Worry no longer, my dear." My hands slid to her waist, pulling her close. For the moment, nothing else in the world mattered, except that I was here, able to look at her and touch her again.

A smile flickered across her face, and then she leaned in and kissed me. At first the audacity of it surprised me, but she seemed not to mind. Which gave me the confidence to return it.

Then there was a clearing of a throat. She pulled back, and the both of us glanced towards the drawing room door. Lady Violet was there, one eyebrow raised and a small smile on her lips.

"You must have missed each other quite a lot, I see," she said, eyes flicking between us.

Emmeline blushed, hiding her face in my shoulder.

"There is something you must know about Ray, Lady Violet," I said, proceeding to explain what had befallen him in Southampton. I'd sent the carriage on to the Radford Manor, so he could be properly attended. Her face drained of all colour, and her lips pressed into a thin line. But she kept her composure, which must have taken much of her willpower.

"Thank you, Captain Haywood," she said as she went out, and as she passed I took her gloved hand and kissed the back of it.

"He was beaten?" Emmeline pulled back to look me in the face, throat moving as she swallowed hard. "By who?"

"A group of men, apparently, who told him that Elementals did not know how to harness their powers." I did not like the words myself. They made some small dark part of me awaken, the part that undoubtedly held the key to releasing my Fire-Elemental abilities.

"What does that mean?" Emmeline's eyes stayed on mine, barely moving. The gold shifted like dying embers.

"I do not know, my love." I cupped her cheek and kissed her furrowed brow. "But I promise you I will make every effort to find out."

She said nothing, only slid her arms further around me and tucked her head under my chin. I held her close, praying that I could keep that promise.