A handsome man dressed in fine clothes graced our doorstep, smiling at us kindly. Despite Sinéad’s artistic talent, she had failed to capture the experience of looking at Lord Thorne in the flesh. With golden locks spilling onto his shoulders and a fair complexion, he was almost otherworldly, and when he looked at Sinéad, his delicate-featured face grew even more beautiful, eyes twinkling like emeralds in the dim light around us.

  He remained upright when we bowed and curtsied. His gaze was fixed upon Sinéad, overflowing with adoration unfit for a man of his station and age.

  Clara was immediately spellbound, and Father remained frustratingly silent when Thorne took a seat next to Sinéad and took her hands in his.

  He shouldn’t be touching her.

  “How was your journey?” Sinéad asked sweetly in the awkward silence that followed the exchange of introductions and pleasantries.

  “Very quick. I did not intend to make you wait, my dear, but I heard it is good to be fashionably late around these parts.”

  Sinéad giggled.

  “Are people not fashionably late where you’re from, Lord Thorne?” Clara inquired breathlessly.

  He tore his gaze away from Sinéad to give her mother a long look, the warmth in his eyes replaced by polite boredom. “Not usually, no. One is expected to arrive in time so as not to miss any of the festivities,” he said pleasantly.

  “Oh, well they certainly sound like a fun bunch!”

  Everyone but Grandmother and I exchanged polite laughter. My skin prickled with discomfort as I glanced at Sinéad. She was smiling, too, her gaze adoringly locked on her paramour’s beautiful profile. It was difficult to think of my next move as doubt flooded my chest.

  She was happy. And so was everyone else, clearly. Why should I intrude on that?

  I steeled myself. Even though I’d always known Sinéad would eventually marry, that I’d find some fault with whichever man she chose, this was far too sudden, and Thorne far too suspicious, to let continue.

  “I don’t think I caught where you were from?” I asked, my tone a little too light as I tried to hide my disdain.

  Lord Thorne’s lips pulled into a slow smile. Silence fell.

  Instead of replying, he turned to Clara.

  “Sidra, you shame us all by treating honored guests as criminals!” she spat, and I stared at her.

  I knew Clara didn’t appreciate how my presence made our family look, but to berate me openly in front of a guest? I didn’t think she was capable of it. What if Lord Thorne spread word of our uneasy relationship? They’d call Clara an evil step-mother, or me a parasite. Clara would never risk such a thing, no matter how much she disliked me.

  She gathered herself and turned back to the man, “Excuse her, Lord Thorne, she’s half-feral. We can barely get her to dress properly, much less understand the rules of society.”

  He bowed his head in a gracious acceptance of her apology, and my question went unanswered.

  After a short yet awkward silence, Clara spoke again.

  “Would you like some tea, my lord?” With the way her eyes sparkled, I almost believed she was the one who wanted to marry him.

  “Unfortunately, I will have to decline. In truth, I am only here to ask your permission to take Sinéad to my estate. I want to show her the true beauty of the autumn season.” Lord Thorne squeezed Sinéad’s hand and looked at her with a gentle smile.

  Clara may have been right in that I didn’t know much about proper etiquette, but I was certain he was supposed to decline more gracefully than that, not to mention how boldly he admitted his intent.

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  Clara herself didn’t mind this transgression. The suggestion of Sinéad spending time alone with a strange man at a mystery location seemed to actually please her.

  “What a wonderful idea!” she gasped, clapping her hands together.

  But why? How could she possibly justify this to herself? Why would she want to? Sinéad was her pride and joy, not someone to be pawned off to the richest man who asked.

  I looked to Father for help, who only stared blankly in front of him. I knew he didn’t truly consider Sinéad to be his daughter, but I’d expected him to at least suggest we wait for some time to pass before agreeing to something like this. Even I knew how improper it all sounded. If Clara did not suspect Lord Thorne of foul play, she should’ve at least been aware of what sort of rumors would spread if this was allowed to continue without at least a public engagement.

  Grandmother had been knitting diligently during the whole ordeal, wearing an unusual frown, and hadn’t even acknowledged Lord Thorne when he first entered.

  Finally, I glanced toward Sinéad. Worry marred her smile. I knew she would never refuse something if her mother encouraged it, doubly so if the man she was infatuated with had suggested it in the first place.

  Fine. If this journey was inevitable, I would have to adapt.

  “Perhaps you would be so gracious as to extend your invitation to the rest of us? Or at least myself and Sinéad’s mother, if there isn’t room for everyone?” I suggested in what I thought was a polite tone.

  Sinéad excitedly drew in breath to reply, but Clara had other ideas. “Preposterous! What a willful girl you are, forcing your company on a stranger!”

  “You’re about to let a stranger take your daughter away to who knows where!” I retorted.

  “Sidra! Enough!”

  I stared at Grandmother in surprise. She never scolded me, but now, she watched me with a tight-jawed fury as if hoping to scare me into obedience.

  The atmosphere in the room changed like someone had opened a window. I realized nobody, save for perhaps Sinéad, wanted me here. It was a familiar feeling.

  Fine. Let Sinéad travel wherever she wanted. I would simply have to track the carriage and follow them on foot, without telling a soul.

  “Please excuse her,” Clara begged Lord Thorne. “She’s always been wild. Uncultured, if you will.” The softness she’d offered him disappeared as soon as she looked at me again.

  Thorne smiled obligingly and turned his gaze on me, filled with condescending pity. “No harm done. Every creature has a place under the sun. Even those that haven’t quite found it yet.”

  Sinéad said something that sounded like the whine of a wounded puppy, but I couldn’t hear her. All sound disappeared, became a hum at the back of my mind as Thorne’s eyes bore into me.

  I’d never met a man with eyes like his. Like arrows piercing my chest and nailing me to the spot. He was still smiling kindly at me, but I feared what would happen if I looked away, like turning my back on a predator, with the stalemate being the only thing keeping me from certain death.

  But death didn’t come when I looked away, and I was allowed to exit the room without issue. Instead of going to my bedroom, I passed the stairs and continued down the hall, taking refuge in Grandmother’s bedroom. As soon as the door closed behind me, I knelt on the floor and pressed my ear against the tiny gap between the door and its frame. I had to hold my breath to make out their conversation.

  Sinéad mumbled something too quiet for me to hear, to which Thorne chuckled.

  “Don’t let people like your sister prevent you from finding happiness, my sweet.”

  I clenched my jaw. No wonder Sinéad found him so attractive; he pretended to act in her best interest.

  “Indeed,” Clara replied heartily. “You should go, Sinéad. It’s a wonderful opportunity to get out of this miserable little town and see more of the world!”

  I scoffed. “More of the world?” As if a new forest would be any different from the ones she’d seen before. Maybe her infatuation would make it more beautiful or some such nonsense, but even then she could appreciate the woods here just the same.

  Besides, Clara had always hated it when Sinéad spoke of potentially leaving town when she got married. Why the sudden distaste for Dorotea?

  Sinéad said something quiet again, though I managed to catch the word “outside.”

  “Of course, my sweet.” The pet name made my teeth itch.

  Steps came from the end of the corridor, and soon Sinéad and Thorne had excused themselves and left the estate. I sighed heavily and turned around, staring through the darkness in the room at the wooden box under Grandmother’s bed. She kept something personal there, something from her home country across the sea, and I’d never found it in me to pry.

  Everyone was acting strangely, but that didn’t matter. Where their judgment failed, mine would prevail. The only person who could stop me from intervening in Sinéad’s love life was Sinéad, and she had yet to decline my help. If she wanted me to break off the engagement, or accompany her to Thorne’s estate, I would do it no matter how angry it made anyone else.

  I stood up, suddenly exhausted. Before I could decide what to do next, the door opened behind me.

  Grandmother’s face was cut from determination. Her eyes were terrified.

  “Go.”

  The word remained in the air.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Go. Now.”

  She held something toward me, her thin arms shaking with the effort. One of my axes.

  I stared at her. She’d gone mad.

  “What are you—”

  “Sidra,” she hissed, thrusting the ax into my hands. “He’s not what he seems.”

  Terror flooded my lungs. A thousand questions begged to be asked, but the urgency in Grandmother’s voice was tangible.

  I yanked the weapon out of her hands and bolted out into the darkness.