Page 137 of The Fulbourn: Pitch & Sickle
‘Nancy will need time to come to grips with all this… Hell, I will too, but I think I saw it before now, that Tilly was special. She wanted to get out of the carriage as soon as we were through the gates at the Fulbourn, said the trees were calling her. She opened the door and slipped out before I could stop her, with your dog in tow. I thought I’d never find her. Never felt so sick in my life. Nancy didn’t even know I’d taken her there, how was I going to explain that I’d lost our daughter on the grounds of a lunatic asylum with a stray dog?’
Her laughter bordered on hysterical. Pitch and Silas waited for her to continue.
‘I found her after half an hour of searching…sitting up in an oak tree’s branches, crying, saying that the trees said bad things were happening in the earth. A nurse who was out escorting a patient was trying to coax her down. The patient had the earring on him apparently. Tilly’s earring. They were the only thing she had on her when she was found abandoned, no clothes, just a blanket and that pair of amber earrings pinned to it. I would know them anywhere. But this fellow insisted it had been given to him…by an angel.’ Pitch stiffened at the poor analogy. ‘He handed it over quick smart when your dog started snarling.’ Adamaris looked to them. ‘I asked after you both, but the secretary I spoke to denied anyone of your description had visited the Fulbourn that day. Tilly cried herself to sleep on the way home and wouldn’t let go of the earring. Liars, she said, bad place. The trees told her that you were there, she said. But she’s happy now, very happy. I can tell because there are asters blooming outside her window today.’ Adamaris’s sigh was heavy, in the way that those who are beyond bamboozled can manage. ‘The flowerbox only had old soil in it yesterday…not to mention it is winter.’
Pitch stared at the frost-haired child humming alongside the skriker. Well, he’d not been expecting that tall tale. He supposed he might as well keep the earring awhile, then.
‘Sybilla believes that the Morrigan placed some type of deflection hex on the Fulbourn,’ Silas said, moving to one side but keeping an arm about Pitch. ‘And that is why Forneus could only trace me as far as the Crimson Bow. He had no sense of me elsewhere. Sybilla had been in Oxford on the search and was closest to reach us when word came in of the theatre. But she said she too would have moved on were Tilly and Forneus not so insistent we were to be found there. There was no inkling of magick, no trace of us at all. The Morrigan had concealed their nest well. The child and her family played a big part in our rescue.’
‘And I’m not sure that family shall ever be the same,’ Adamaris said quietly. She moved to gather up her daughter. ‘Time for your afternoon nap, my sweetheart.’ The child only protested a little at being removed. Forneus breathed a hefty exhale and lay his head upon his front paws, watching the dryad child as her mother carried her to the doorway. Adamaris paused, turning back.
‘Those strawberry tarts you asked for are coming out of the oven shortly, Silas. And the bathwater has just been drawn. It may be too warm yet, but I’ve had the tub set up in your room as you requested.’
‘Thank you Adamaris, for everything. I’m sorry you have been thrown into all this. I hope you understand the Order’s need to keep your family protected.’ Silas inclined his head towards the little girl, who rested, thumb in mouth, head heavy on her mother’s shoulder. Adamaris nodded, a fierce set to her features. She turned and headed out of the room.
‘Sleep well, Tilly,’ Silas called.
The child wiggled her tiny fingers, eyes already closing as she was carried away.
‘Please, by all the gods, tell me those tarts are for me?’ Pitch fairly drooled.
‘I wouldn’t dream of eating them without you.’ Silas gathered Pitch to him and leaned in to steal a kiss. A full press of lips with a quick dart of searching tongue. He pulled away, leaving Pitch open-mouthed and leaning in for more. ‘And I know you are fond of a hot bath. I figured one was in order. I tried to clean you up best as I could, but I didn’t wish to wake you.’
Pitch melted against him, setting aside all thoughts of headless horsemen and Sanctuaries, cursed halos and the lieutenant. Sybilla was with Edward, so he was in good hands. Safe hands. Their meeting could wait.
‘Well, I’m awake now,’ he said. ‘But I am feeling rather faint.’
Silas raised his brows. ‘Is that so?’
‘Terribly so. I dare say I shan’t trust myself to bathe in this state.’ Pitch angled his hips, teasing at the stiffness in Silas’s trousers. ‘I’ll need a good scrub to remove all this nasty dirt.’ He pressed onto his toes, his full weight against Silas, who didn’t waver in the slightest. Pitch leaned close to his ear. ‘Would you bathe with me perhaps?’
‘I…bathe…with you…’ Silas’s hold tightened, and a hushed breath escaped him. ‘Do you think the tub could take us both?’
Pitch had been certain the ankou would decline. Now his mind was afire with thought of Silas settled behind him in the bath, rubbing him down with a firm hand and decent piece of soap.
‘I shall make certain we both fit,’ Pitch rushed. ‘We’ll find a way, if you would like to try.’
‘I would.’ Silas released Pitch from his embrace and took his hand. The ankou was trembling. ‘I would like to try it, very much. With you. Only with you. For I trust you most of all.’
Gods, there was every chance Pitch’s heart was going to thump itself onto the floor between them. The fire popped, and Pitch nearly flew out of his skin.
‘Trust me? After all I’ve put us through? Perhaps the heat of my flame melted what remained of your good sense.’
‘Or made the truth burn brighter.’ Silas tugged at his hand, a gentle urging for Pitch to follow. ‘I trust youbecauseof all that we have been through, not despite it. The Fulbourn was a mistake, but it wasourmistake, Pitch. There is much to speak of, I know, but we shall do so when you are clean and warm and dressed. I’ve asked Bess to have a selection of corsets brought from Harvington Hall. You should see this marvellous chest he has in his room. It’s been bringing all manner of things to us from the hall. Fae magick, I’m told, but nothing so dreadful as we’ve encountered so far.’ He brushed a hand against his coat. ‘Bess arranged to have this delivered for me. It fits wonderfully.’
‘Lovely, but the original is a better shade of blue for your complexion.’
‘Do you think so?’ Silas seemed pleased Pitch had noticed such a detail.
‘I do. You are very handsome in the Inverness.’
The duck of the ankou’s head was achingly sweet. ‘You think me handsome?’
‘Veryhandsome.’ Pitch smiled at the scarlet patches creeping up Silas’s neck. ‘The tarts, the bath…the corsets from the hall…you’ve done all that…for me?’
Was the air thin in this room? Pitch was light-headed, a little dizzy.
‘Of course. And I would do so much more.’ But Silas’s bright smile wavered. ‘You mustn’t feel obliged, though. If you want none of it –’
Pitch touched his fingertips to the ankou’s lips. ‘I want it all, Sickle.’
‘Then, Mr Astaroth,’ Silas kissed Pitch’s fingers, ‘will you allow me to take you upstairs and see to all your needs?’
‘I should like that very much, Mr Mercer.’ Pitch’s bare feet seemed to float an inch above the floor. ‘Very much indeed.’