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A sound arose from the bed. “It has to work out,” her grandfather groaned. He fell into a fit of coughing, his body wracked so hard by it that Sophia feared he would expire on the spot. She rushed to his side.

“My lovely girl,” he said, reaching a hand toward her.

She pressed her face into his palm and a hot tear trailed down her cheek. She held his hand by her cheek until he slept, and then she tucked his hand beneath the counterpane.

“I fear it won’t be long,” Ashley warned.

“I know,” she whispered back, as he gripped her shoul

der in a strong grasp.

Thirty-Three

Sophia stepped from the tub and wrapped a length of linen around her body. She glanced quickly at the clock on the mantel. Ashley would be expecting her at noon. She wrung the water from her hair. She would barely have time for her hair to dry, much less to have it piled atop her head in any kind of artful creation.

The door to her dressing room opened, and Margaret slipped quietly into the room. Sophia’s mother walked in behind her. “We’re here to help you get dressed,” her mother said, her eyes shimmery with tears. She could have sworn Margaret blinked back a tear or two as well, but the maid turned away, cleared her throat, and reached for the wardrobe doorknob. She looked inside and turned back with a grimace. “Your green dress is the only thing fancy enough for the occasion,” she said.

“Oh, wait.” Her mother looked around the room and went to the door. She giggled lightly. “It was supposed to be delivered by now.” She opened the door and stuck her head out. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to stay away,” she laughed as Sophia’s grandmother walked into the room. She had a dress hung over her arm and a sly grin on her face. She looked at Lady Ramsdale and said, “You don’t mind if she wears it, do you?”

A lone tear slipped down Sophia’s mother’s cheek, but she swiped it away and hopped onto the bed like an adolescent might. She stuck a pillow in her lap and rested her elbows upon it. “I can’t wait to see it on you.”

“What is it?” Sophia asked. She reached out to touch the material. It was as soft as the down of a newly hatched bird and as shiny as her magic dust. It sparkled and shone, rays of light bouncing off it like it was lined with prisms.

“It’s my wedding dress,” her grandmother said. “I thought you might like to wear it.”

Sophia took the dress and held it up in front of her, and as she regarded herself in the looking glass, she could already imagine herself in it and the look on Ashley’s face when he saw it.

“You can marry beneath the arbor in the churchyard. Where the sun can play upon it. It’s well known that sunbeams bring good luck.”

“That’s an old wives’ tale, Mother,” Lady Ramsdale scolded. Her mother scolded. Would she ever get used to that? Perhaps with time. Her mother covered one side of her mouth with her hand, as though she had a secret to impart. But she spoke loudly. “It’s also said that moonbeams are just as lucky.”

“It’s lucky just to be of the fae,” Grandmother said a she cupped the side of Sophia’s face. “I know you never felt that way before.”

She never had. She’d concentrated on the loss, and not on the fortunate parts of her life. She’d concentrated on her missions and on the tasks set before her by the fae. But she’d never taken the time to actually enjoy her life. She planned to enjoy every moment with Ashley and Anne. Every single one.

“Help me to dress, Margaret?” Sophia asked, watching the woman closely.

“Yes, miss,” the house faerie said quickly as Sophia took the dress from her grandmother and slipped behind the screen in the room. She turned back to her grandmother and her mother. “Would you mind leaving me alone with Margaret for a moment?” She made a nod toward the door.

Her mother looked wounded, but only for a second. “May I return when you’re dressed?”

“Of course.”

Sophia waited until they were gone and the door had closed softly behind them. Then she approached Margaret, waited until she turned to look at her, and then took her maid’s hands in her own. Margaret looked everywhere but at her as Sophia tried to catch her gaze.

“Look at me,” she finally said. Margaret looked at her fully. “You have been a friend to me my whole life.” Margaret tried to pull back. But Sophia tightened her grip upon her maid’s hands. “And even more than that, you have been a mother to me.” A tear trickled down Margaret’s cheek.

“You have a mother,” Margaret said. She refused to look at Sophia as she sniffled.

“I do, and I am lucky to have her in my life now. But you stood in her stead for such a long time. So, please allow me to say thank you for all you’ve done for me.”

“I don’t like passing you off to the hands of a human. I didn’t like doing it with your mother. And I don’t like it with you.” She finally looked Sophia in the eye. “Where will you live? Here or there? Will you have children? Will you raise them to be fae or to be human? Will I ever see you again after you leave this world?” She was squeezing Sophia’s hands even harder than Sophia squeezed hers.

“When I have children, I will want you to be with me. I cannot raise my children without you. Wherever I am, I hope you will be. With what Robinsworth has done here, we will be able to come and go at will, rather than at the whim of a few old men.” Sophia laughed softly. “Times, they are changing.”

“What if I don’t like change?” The maid gave a watery chuckle.

“I don’t think we have much choice at this point. Will you help me dress?”


Tags: Tammy Falkner Faerie Fantasy