Enchanted Cottage (Avador Book 3, Books We Love Fantasy Romance) (12 page)

Finian Duffrey rose to greet him.
As a prosperous landowner, he wore a gold belt around his waist; his dark green tunic and black velvet trousers evidenced his wealth. Colin recognized that he had much to be thankful for, unlike many people in this country of Avador, who lived from day to day, eking out just enough food to feed their families.

His father held him close.
“Son, you’ve been away for one whole nine-day. What could have taken you so long?”

Overwhelmed with depression but reluctant to show his father disrespect, he gave the only reply he could.
“I had personal business to tend to, but I’m happy to be home again.”

His father raised his eyebrows but didn’t question him.
“And I’m happy to have you home. Well, then, sit down and rest. I imagine you have done much riding these past few days.” He reached for a decanter of wine on his desk and poured him a glass, then returned to his seat.

He took a chair next to his father’s desk and sipped his wine, a fine-flavored wine that quenched his thirst.
He crossed his legs and attempted to show interest in his father’s words.

Frowning, his father looked his way.
“Do you feel like discussing business—personal

business, I should say
—or would you rather go to your room and rest? You
have
had a long journey, I’ll grant you that. This business can wait until later.”

“Now is as good as any time, sir.”
Uncertain of what his father wanted to discuss but fearful the ‘personal business’ related to marriage arrangements, he fixed a bland expression on his face and steeled himself for what he knew was coming.

“Very well.
As I mentioned when you returned home from the army, the Duffrey name is respected throughout Ulaidh, indeed, throughout much of the country. You know this. I don’t need to tell you.”

Colin’s heart beat faster, his breath coming in short gasps, bu
t he kept the neutral expression on his face. He was becoming very good at hiding his emotions.

“With the family reputation in mind,” his father continued, “and aware that we have a tradition to uphold
—a tradition that goes back centuries, I might add—I have given careful thought to your marriage.”

His heart sank.
He wanted to shut out his father’s voice, leave the room, but he kept quiet.

His father threw him a questioning look.
“Do you have any particular lady in mind?”

“No, sir.”
Only the woman I love more than life
.

“All right, then.
You surely know Neal Furneth, whose estate adjoins ours?”

“Yes, of course.”
And his bitch of a daughter
.

“He has a daughter, quite a refined lady who would make you a suitable wife.
Furneth and I have discussed joining our families. With your agreement, we will draw up an arrangement between you and Donella Furneth.” He gave him a long look, as though waiting for his reaction. He cleared his throat. “If you agree.”

Ah, yes, he knew Donella Furneth, a vain, selfish woman.
He didn’t love her, and he knew she didn’t love him. He also knew her affections centered on a man so far beneath her station, that if she married him—one of the tenant farmers on their estate—her family would disown her.

“Colin?”

“Yes, sir, it will be as you want. I’ll marry Donella Furneth.” He took a deep breath. He wanted to tell his father about Alana, how he had met her and how she had taken care of him. But he saw no point in baring his heart. He forced a smile on his face, never revealing the ache inside him.

His father beamed.
“Very good. We will draw up the arrangements tomorrow. Then the handfasting ceremony will take place at the Furneth estate, of course. One nine-day from now.”

Chapter Thirteen

The cottage!
Where was it? And the clearing? Upon leaving Cairn, Alana returned to the forest, only to find that her cottage and the clearing had disappeared. Having intended to stay at her cottage one night before journeying to Moytura, she stared, dumbfounded, at the place where her cottage had stood and saw trees, nothing but trees and bushes! This couldn’t be. Could not be. But it was. She blinked her eyes, as if expecting the cottage to suddenly reappear. Looking around, she saw the familiar oaks and maples, the lone weeping willow, and the path that led to the Nantosuelta. She heard the usual sounds of the woods, the rustling in the bushes, the clucking and howls. Breathing deeply, she caught the scent of sassafras.

Exhausted and heartsick, she wanted to cry but realized tears would gain her nothing.
Could it be that the Goddess had used her magic to provide sanctuary when she had most needed a refuge? Yes, surely Talmora had used her magic to help her, when everyone else had deserted her, and she had no one to turn to.
Be thankful for that much and for having known Colin, even if you never see him again.
Tears sprang to her eyes, but she brushed them away, too well aware she would never see Colin again.

She saw the sun sinking below the horizon, firing the sky with a golden glow.
Soon, darkness would come to the forest, too late for her to head for Moytura. She feared spending the night in the woods, where wolves and jackals prowled the woodland, and deadly snakes might catch her unawares. Afraid to sleep among the trees, she headed down the path and stopped a few feet from the raging river. Her stomach rumbled with hunger; her feet ached from walking. Soon, darkness fell, and the first faint stars glimmered in the sky. In no time, hundreds—thousands!—of bright stars lit the heavens, and a full moon silvered the rippling waters of the river. Cool air replaced the daytime heat of early summer, and she dug in her bag for her new wool cape. Regretting that she had to spread the soft, clean wool on the ground, she flipped it out, then lay on one half of the cape, drawing the other half over her. The nighttime sounds of the forest kept her awake for a long time, the hoot of an owl, the frightened scream of a deer. After much tossing and turning, she fell into a restless sleep, but when she slept, she dreamed of Colin.

Hours later, she awoke as the sun rose in the west, lighting the sky with lavender and rose, its golden rays shimmering on the river like diamonds.
Sore in every muscle from her neck to her hips and feet, she sat up and stretched. Hunger gnawed at her stomach, her mouth bone dry with thirst. After removing her shoes and stockings, she waded into the river to drink, scooping up handfuls of water. She splashed back out, waiting for her feet to dry as she shook out her cape and returned it to her bag. She relieved herself behind a bush and sat to don her stockings and shoes, then left the forest.

A tiresome walk along the Royal North Road, over familiar hills and rocky terrain, took her to Moytura hours later.
She recalled that the city had a message board both at the north and south entrances. Here people posted messages of positions wanted, missing children, and lost pets, among other concerns. Many people crowded around the board, forcing her to continually move from one side to another and stand on her tiptoe to read the messages. She ignored her growling stomach as her gaze covered the entire board to see if anyone needed a tutor for their child. Tempted to cry with disappointment when she saw no such signs posted, she swallowed hard and walked on.

Near faint with hunger, she headed for the Snow Leopard, anxious for a filling breakfast and a place to rest.
She trod the hot cobblestone streets, past vendors and fancy shops. A few minutes later, she opened the door to the inn, giving herself time for her eyes to adjust to its dimness after the bright sunshine. Since it was mid-morning, only a few patrons sat at tables, talking quietly among themselves.

A middle-aged man came forward to greet her.
“Good morning, madam. I’m Cedric, owner of the Snow Leopard. Allow me to lead you to a table, and a waitress will serve you shortly.”

Sitting down, she asked him on the spur of the moment, “Since so many people frequent your inn, have you heard of anyone who needs a tutor for their children?”

Cedric frowned.
“Not recently, sorry to say. Did you check the message board at the entrance to the city?”

Setting her bag on an empty chair, she explained about checking the board.

“I’ll ask around,” he said as the waitress approached the table. “Definitely will let you know.”

After a filling breakfast of creamy oatmeal and barley bread with earthberry jam, she drained her cup of
spiosra
—spicy—tea. Ah, that tasted good, and she felt so much better. Now, without hunger to hinder her, she could think better about gaining employment, else she would soon deplete all of her money. Oh, yes, she still had her own coins, plus the money Colin had given her, but that wouldn’t last forever.

Seeing the owner across the room, she left a copper on the table and retrieved her bag, then headed his way.
He stood behind the bar, polishing glasses. “Cedric, if it’s no trouble, would you please fetch me paper, pen, and ink. It occurs to me I might place my own sign on the message board.

“Yes, of course.”
He returned a few minutes later with the requested materials, along with a tack.

“Thank you.”
After writing her own message, she left the inn and retraced her steps to the board. She tacked the sign, and at the same time, checked to see if any apartments were available. Seeing none, she walked on, thinking of Colin, wondering if the Goddess would grant her another miracle and send him back into her life.
Oh, let it be so.

* * *

Several evenings later, Alana ate her dinner at the inn, discouraged at not finding employment or an inexpensive apartment. She had checked from one end of the city to another, finding vacancies only at the expensive apartments in the finer parts of the city. She sighed as she cut into her slice of ham, knowing this inn was far too costly in which to stay, night after night. Her copper coins were fast disappearing.

She looked up as Cedric approached her table.
“Madam, I may have good news for you, depending on how events play out. I recently heard of a young man, a widower, who needs a tutor for his young daughter. I can give you his direction, if you like.”

“Oh, yes, please.”
Relief washed over her, coupled with trepidation. She would need to go for an interview, a chancy situation, and that didn’t guarantee her employment. But of course, that’s the way it was with any position.

Handing her the piece of paper, he explained how she would find the house, not far beyond Granno’s Way.

“Cedric, thank you so much.
I pray that this will work out for me.”

He winked.
“A pretty girl such as you shouldn’t have any trouble finding employment.”

She laughed, so happy to hear a compliment after suffering with an ugly face for so long.
“Oh, one thing I wanted to ask you.” She gave a slight nod toward a young couple who sat at a far corner of the room. “I see this man and woman most every night, just drinking but eating nothing. And I never see them during the day.”

Cedric bent over and spoke in low tones.
“That’s Fianna and Gaderian Wade. They’re vampires,” he said matter-of-factly. “She used to work here as a fortune teller before she married him.”

“Goodness!
I didn’t know vampires still existed in Avador.”

“Many vampires in Avador, but mainly in Moyura, now that everyone knows they don’t harm mortals.
But bandregas, ah, that was another matter. Such a danger to the kingdom, killing mortals, but it seems that they have disappeared, or at any rate, no one sees them anymore.” He frowned. “Not sure how or why, but the bandregas—demons—are all gone.”

She shivered.
“Well, thank the Goddess for that. And thank you, Cedric, for the information,” she said, waving the paper. “I’ll see about this tomorrow.” After he walked off, she thought further about the demons. What if they still existed in Avador, despite his assurance that they had disappeared? How would she know one when she saw him? She vowed never go outside by herself after dark.

* * *

The next morning after breakfast, Alana dressed carefully for her interview with the widower. Thankful she’d bought the light blue linen dress, she lifted it from the wall peg and set it on the bed to smooth out its wrinkles. Admiring the lace on the collar and cuffs, she realized she had never before owned such a lovely frock. She combed her hair and gave herself one last look in the mirror. She left her room and locked the door, pocketing the key.

As she headed for the widower’s residence, she noted the houses becoming finer the farther west she walked, mansions of three stories with carefully-tended lawns.
The streets were wider here, with splendid oaks on both sides. Children played on spacious yards, swinging and bouncing balls. Elegantly-clad horsemen on elegant horses cantered past, the very image of wealth.

Finally reaching the address Cedric had given her, she approached the mansion along a wide stone sidewalk, lined with azalea bushes on both sides, and knocked on the door.
A female servant dressed in black answered the door. “Madam?”