The Wraith and the Rose Read online

  The Wraith and the Rose

  C. J. Brightley

  Contents

  Also by C. J. Brightley

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  The Beginning of the Season

  Chapter 2

  An Expression of Interest

  Chapter 3

  The Wraith

  Chapter 4

  Fascination

  Chapter 5

  The Dinner Party

  Chapter 6

  A Little Magic

  Chapter 7

  An Ally in Peril

  Chapter 8

  An Invitation

  Chapter 9

  The League

  Chapter 10

  The Garden Party

  Chapter 11

  Planning Commences

  Chapter 12

  Lord Willowvale’s Suspicions

  Chapter 13

  Mundane Measures

  Chapter 14

  Family Concerns

  Chapter 15

  Smitten

  Chapter 16

  An Invitation and a Letter

  Chapter 17

  Thrilling Heroics

  Chapter 18

  Gifts

  Chapter 19

  The Most Beautiful Wedding of the Season

  Chapter 20

  The Reception

  Chapter 21

  The Wedding Night

  Chapter 22

  The Other Side

  Chapter 23

  The First Days of Wedded Bliss

  Chapter 24

  The Children’s Home

  Chapter 25

  A Stolen Beauty

  Chapter 26

  A Growing Distance

  Chapter 27

  The Ogre

  Chapter 28

  A Lonely Morning

  Chapter 29

  Disappointment

  Chapter 30

  A Troubled Afternoon

  Chapter 31

  A Brave Farewell

  Chapter 32

  An Offer of Help

  Chapter 33

  A Desperate Plea

  Chapter 34

  Realization

  Chapter 35

  A Clever Plan

  Chapter 36

  An Encouraging Revelation

  Chapter 37

  A Courageous Foray Into the Veil

  Chapter 38

  An Unexpected Meeting

  Chapter 39

  The Passion of the Wraith

  Chapter 40

  Returning Home

  Chapter 41

  Beginning Again

  Afterword

  About the Author

  Sneak Peek

  Also by C. J. Brightley

  Erdemen Honor:

  The King’s Sword

  A Cold Wind

  Honor’s Heir

  * * *

  A Long-Forgotten Song:

  Things Unseen

  The Dragon’s Tongue

  The Beginning of Wisdom

  * * *

  Fairy King:

  A Fairy King

  A Fairy Promise

  * * *

  Other Works:

  The Lord of Dreams

  Twelve Days of (Faerie) Christmas

  Heroes and Other Stories

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  * * *

  THE WRAITH AND THE ROSE. Copyright 2021 by C. J. Brightley. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information contact [email protected].

  * * *

  Paperback ISBN 978-1-954768-01-7

  Hardback ISBN 978-1-954768-02-4

  * * *

  Published in the United States of America by Spring Song Press, LLC.

  * * *

  www.cjbrightley.com

  * * *

  Cover design by Kerry Jesberger of Aero Gallerie.

  For my utterly delightful children, Natalie and Timothy – Thank you for your tender hearts, your clever, bright, curious minds, your sweet words of encouragement, and your love. You make the world a better place, and I am so very thankful that I get to be your mommy.

  Acknowledgments

  Baroness Orczy wrote The Scarlet Pimpernel in 1905 and changed literature by inspiring the masked hero trope, from Zorro to Batman, Spiderman, and other heroes. I’m deeply grateful for the inspiration I found in her gallant hero, as well as the heroes and heroines of a thousand other books that fueled my imagination. Many thanks to those authors who fill their books with wonder, delight, and heroes worth believing in.

  * * *

  Several people have been particularly helpful in the completion of this book. My husband and children were sweetly patient with me as I flew through the first draft of the book in a flurry of excitement, and then settled into the editing process. Sarah W. read the book multiple times and offered insightful comments and encouragement. Constance L. cheered me on and helped tie up loose threads. Suebee R. was wonderfully encouraging and helpful. My parents both read the drafts and offered suggestions and encouragement.

  * * *

  I am so thankful to be surrounded by such kind, generous, wonderful friends. Thank you.

  Chapter 1

  The Beginning of the Season

  Spring warmth made the interior of the hired carriage a little stuffy, and Miss Lilybeth Rose Hathaway breathed a sigh of relief as it halted before the manor. She took her brother Oliver’s arm as she alighted from the carriage. The two followed their father and mother up the broad marble steps to the door, where a footman dressed better than either of the two Hathaway men received them with an ill-concealed smirk.

  They followed another footman down an expansive hall to the ballroom. A dozen lanterns along the way set the marble floor to gleaming and picked out the rich colors of the paintings along the walls.

  The footman left them with the butler stationed at the open door of the ballroom.

  “A moment, please.” Sir Jacob Hathaway, her father, murmured. The butler nodded and stepped back. He was too well-trained to smirk noticeably, but Lily could feel the judgment in his gaze. The Hathaways were not accustomed to such exalted gatherings, and Sir Jacob wanted to observe before entering the ballroom.

  Lily’s eyes widened when the music rose from the small ensemble in the corner. The violinist set light, bright notes dancing over the murmur of the guests. Lily tried to see the musicians around her father’s shoulder, but couldn’t catch more than a glimpse of the plumes on their hats.

  Sir Jacob finally nodded, and the butler read from the card the footman had given him.

  “Sir Jacob Hathaway, Lady Hathaway, Mr. Oliver Hathaway, and Miss Lilybeth Hathaway.” Only a few people looked up. Sir Jacob had been knighted several years before, but such a title was hardly remarkable among this assembly. Only Oliver’s friendship with Sir Michael, one of Lord Radclyffe’s sons, had gotten them the invitation at all.

  Lanterns lined the walls and chandeliers dangled from the lofty ceiling, their mirrored sides casting dancing points of light over the walls and across the floor. A dozen footmen offered refreshments to the aristocrats gathered in tittering little groups around the dance floor. The one nearest them held a platter of tiny cakes with rose-lavender icing and cool slices of moon melon arranged in a scrumptious array. Another held a tray of cucumber swirls drizzled in some sort of fancy sauce, while yet another offered herbed, baked chee
se and bold blackberry compote over the daintiest morsels of shortbread. Diminutive tables stood at intervals against the walls to hold overflowing vases of lilacs and early roses, along with sprays of tiny white flowers Lily could not identify. The scents of the numerous blooms and fancy refreshments, wine and perfume, filled the air.

  Roses were the height of fashion this season, due to the actions of the Wraith, whom the Fair Folk called the Rose. Half the ladies in attendance wore his insignia somewhere on their dress or in their hair. Lily had a small enamel rose pin in her hair, but these ladies wore much more expensive jeweled roses in their hair or on necklaces, even fresh roses tucked in intricate hair arrangements. One of the attendants bore tiny cakes iced with pink roses.

  Sir Jacob led his family toward the little cluster around the host and hostess to pay his respects.

  “Lord Radclyffe. Lady Radclyffe.” Her father bowed courteously. Her mother dipped a slight, graceful curtsy. Oliver and Lily followed their lead.

  Lord Radclyffe smiled tolerantly. “Sir Jacob. Welcome.” His eyes raked up and down all four of them, giving Lily a sense that they were all being measured. “Michael tells me your son Oliver is quite a rider.” Beginning the conversation with a compliment was a kind gesture, given their lower status.

  Sir Jacob nodded. “Thank you. Oliver has always been one for adventure. He has spoken highly of Sir Michael; it speaks well of a father when his son is a man of character.” Sir Jacob bowed again and took a half-step back, letting Lord Radclyffe decide whether he wished to turn back to his companion without seeming to snub him, or whether he wished to continue the conversation.

  The lord smiled and turned away.

  Lily leaned in to Oliver as they meandered toward the back of the room, having completed the first of the obligatory awkward greetings. “Are all the parties like this? What was that about Sir Michael?”

  “Yes, and he was referring to a card game,” Oliver murmured back. “Sir Michael is an honorable chap, though a bit flighty, and he got us this invitation because I asked him to.”

  Lily blinked at him, momentarily shocked. “I didn’t know you were so well-connected.”

  Her brother looked down at her, dark eyes gleaming. “Well, you never got a proper coming out, did you? That’s what we’re here for. How are all these fops going to know how beautiful you are if we don’t show them?”

  Lily’s mouth dropped open. “I didn’t think it would be like this.” She’d known that the purpose of the season in Ardmond was for her to be presented among the social elite in the hopes of catching the eye of a young nobleman. The concept was not new to her, but the experience of it was, and she found it significantly more uncomfortable than she’d expected.

  Oliver chuckled and nodded her onward, so she turned to follow her mother. “Not today, Lily. In general. If they know you’re as sweet and delightful as you are, you’ll have no shortage of invitations. You’ll have your pick of this lot. It’s got to be better than the options you’ve had at home.”

  With a surge of relief, Lily saw her friend Lady Araminta Poole, daughter of Lord Poole, the Duke of Brickelwyte, and hurried to greet her. The rest of the Hathaways trailed behind her.

  “You look lovely!” exclaimed Araminta. “The blue sets off your eyes especially well.”

  “Oh, I think you’re the most beautiful flower tonight, Araminta.” Lily smiled at her friend. “Sweet as honey, too. I’m so glad you’re here,” she added sincerely.

  Araminta leaned closer and whispered, “I heard someone asking Lord Holmwood if Sir Theodore and Lady Overton and their son would be here. He said Sir Theodore had told him they would be!”

  “Oh. Are you expecting them to be interesting, then?”

  Araminta nearly gaped at her, but covered her shock with an elegant hand over her mouth. “Haven’t you heard of them? I did not realize you were so far from all the gossip.”

  Lily’s cheeks heated. “Well, our little town is hardly exciting, but it does have its charms. Why are they of such interest?”

  “Well, first, Sir Theodore is only a baronet, but he is nearly as wealthy as the prince. Lady Overton is sublimely beautiful! And their son is the most ridiculous fop the court has ever seen, and despite how silly he is, you can’t help but like him. He’s funny in a self-deprecating sort of way, and he sets all the fashions. He has such beautiful manners.” Araminta sighed dramatically in admiration.

  “You’ve met them, then?”

  “Once, at Lord Hastings’s water party. He’s a marvelous dancer.”

  Lily smiled, amused. “The father or the son?”

  “Both, but I was speaking of the son!” Araminta giggled. “If this is your belated coming out season, you could do a lot worse, you know.”

  Lily frowned gently at her. “I don’t like to think of devoting my energies so seriously to catching a husband, as if it ought to be my primary aim in life.” Nevertheless, she had used her minor magical skill at glamour to hide a faded spot on her dress sleeve and conceal the worn hems of her father’s sleeves.

  Having the gift of glamour, she could see when others used the same gift, but she could not see through it. Few among the crowd had used any glamour at all, and those who did had used it sparingly; their attire was every bit as luxurious as it looked, even if they might have accented the lace of a cravat or changed the color of a gem. Even her gift of glamour seemed small and insignificant here in the wealth and privilege of Ardmond, the capital of Valestria and the center of culture and affluence. A fairy, of course, would be much stronger, and could see through any human-made glamour, but the reverse was not true; a fairy-made glamour would fool any human. A human particularly skilled with glamour might be able to see that a fairy wore a glamour, but they certainly would not be able to see through it to the true form.

  Araminta returned Lily’s frown more seriously. “Well, it ought to be a priority. How am I to spend my days doing good if I cannot afford to eat, and how can I afford to eat without a husband?”

  Lily covered her chuckle. “I suppose that’s true. I don’t think you’ll have to do much searching, though. Your future is not so far from home.”

  “Do you think so? I really am not sure how much more obvious I can be.” Araminta’s dark hair shone as she shook her head in mock despair. She had nursed a long-standing affection for Lily’s brother for years, but Oliver had never noticed. Lily had offered to hint to him that her friend might be interested, but Araminta had not yet consented.

  Lily turned to find her brother. He was a short distance away, just leading a lovely blonde back off the dance floor as they finished a reel. His dark hair gleamed, and his ready smile made him popular with both men and women. He was only two years older than she was, and they had spent happy years playing together after finishing their studies in the mornings. Lily had privately wished Araminta had had an elder brother of her own; it was good for a young woman to know that young men were not entirely mysterious and unfathomable, but rather humans much like themselves.

  Oliver found her and smiled, then made his way over to her through the crush.

  “His Royal Highness The Prince of Valestria. Sir Theodore Overton the Third, Baronet. Lady Overton.” The butler’s voice rang out over the dull roar of conversations and music. There was a shuffling and murmuring at the door, and a moment later, “Mr. Theodore Overton the Fourth.”

  She couldn’t see the entrants, but the excitement was palpable in the air. Lord Radclyffe turned with the rest of the crowd, apparently eager to see the new arrivals. Surely wealth alone wouldn’t justify this level of interest among so many rich aristocrats.

  The music resumed and the Overtons made their way through the room toward the Radclyffes with some difficulty, accosted as they were by many well-wishers and interested parties.

  “Theo! You owe me a game of whist!”

  “Do I?”

  “Theo, how delighted we are to see you again! You’re resplendent as usual.”

  “Lady Ramsay.”
The voice was elegant and polite, nearly inaudible over the music.

  Lily turned away and locked eyes with Oliver, whose mouth nearly dropped open at the simpering worship in the woman’s voice. Oliver leaned close to murmur in her ear, “The Overtons must be even richer than the rest of these snobs.”

  Lily covered her chuckle with a graceful hand. “Apparently so.”

  Their father turned to them and said in a low voice, “The son is close friends with the prince.”

  Oliver’s interest brightened, but he said confidently, “And they’re also rich.”

  “Quite. They own half the shipping and most of the fabric industries, as well as several vineyards.” Sir Jacob added, “I wish I could get you an introduction to the son, Lily. You could do a lot worse.”

  Lily blinked. “I don’t need an introduction, at least not yet. What if he’s a spoiled fop?”

  Oliver snorted softly. “Well, nearly every man here is, but there are worse things in the world than men who like good food and nice clothes.”

  His father shot him a quelling look. “Do introduce us to those you can, Oliver.”