Page 15 of A Treason of Thorns

“Wyn, I haven’t changed,” I tell him.

“Which means yes, you’d stay.” He runs a hand through his untidy hair in frustration. “Blood and mortar, I should have leftthe moment I heard you were coming back. I never should have waited.”

Nothing is as I thought it would be. All those years on the fens, I dreamt of this day. Of arriving home, grieving my father, but ready to take up his mantle as Caretaker, with Burleigh’s key in hand. Wyn was always there, in my dreams—I can’t imagine Burleigh House without him anymore.

But neither can I stand to see him miserable.

“Forget it,” I reassure him. “It was wrong of me to ask you to stay here. Of course you aren’t happy at Burleigh House anymore, how could you be? I’m being selfish—don’t pay me any mind. I wish you all the luck in the world, wherever it is you’re going.”

I hold out a hand for him to shake, and at first he only stares at it. But then he slides the rucksack from his shoulder and lets it drop to the floor.

“I’ll stay until tomorrow,” Wyn says. “That’s all, though. After that I’m gone, Violet. For good.”

When he walks away without taking my hand, it feels like another death. I stand alone in the hallway for a long time, just trying to piece myself back together.

6

A THOUSAND QUESTIONS CROWD TOGETHER AT THE BACKof my throat as we sit down to supper in Burleigh’s enormous kitchen following an afternoon of settling in. The long staff table that once sat my father’s household of twenty might seem empty with only the four of us, if not for the low evening sun pouring in the kitchen windows. The light at Burleigh House has always been thick and golden as a new-minted coin, and it’s as good as company in a pinch.

And then there are the things we skirted around on the fens, never speaking of, which hang heavy on the air. They can’t be avoided any longer, though, not now we’re back home. I gather my courage and ask the question no one’s ever yet been willing to answer for me.

“I know he was looking for it, but did Papa ever actually find the location of Burleigh’s deed?”

Mira freezes with her teacup halfway to her lips, and Jed sets his fork down with a clatter. A muscle works in his jaw. “What are you doing, Violet?”

“It’s no secret that’s why Papa was charged with treason—he’d been looking for the deed to Burleigh House, planning to set it free.” I butter a piece of bread and bite into it, though there’s a rumble coming up from the floor beneath my feet at the mention of deeds. It makes me nervous, but I won’t show my worry in front of Jed.Hold on, Burleigh. Keep your vines and thorns at bay, because we can’t do without a kitchen. “I’m asking all of you—did he find the deed?”

“He was killed just for looking, and that should be enough for you,” Jed says. He gets up abruptly and stalks out the kitchen door into the overgrown vegetable garden. It’s a sign of how upset Jed is that he forgets to touch the mezuzah he’s already put up when passing by. There’s a clatter as he opens the shed, and then the scratching of a hoe against unworked soil.

We sit in silence for a long while after Jed leaves. Wyn is withdrawn, not looking anywhere but at the plate in front of him.

Finally, Mira reaches out to pat my hand. “He loved your father, Jed did. Thought the sun rose and set on him. But he loves you more, Violet. We both do. And Jed’s been afraid of answering that question for you since George died.”

“Why?” I protest. “No one ever talks to me. Don’t I have a right to know how far Papa got before—”

The rumble beneath my feet intensifies. A vine—sharp-thorned bramble, not English ivy—twines up the table leg and brushes against my hand. Absently, I run my fingers along its spiny green leaves, mindful of the thorns.

“It’s not just a question you’re asking,” Mira says. “It’s treason even to speak of taking a deed from the king. So if you want to stayin this House without ending up like your father did, you’ll hold your tongue, mind your own business, and do as His Majesty bids you.”

“I’ll be happy like that, will I?” I ask, not bothering to hide my distaste for her suggestion. “Just rolling over like a well-mannered dog and begging the king for favors? Letting Burleigh House go to ruin?”

Mira looks straight at me, her gaze unflinching. “Happy is neither here nor there. You’ll be alive, which is more important. You were happy on the fens—you could have had that life, but you chose to return here.”

“I wasn’t happy on the fens,” I say, pushing my plate aside. Any appetite I had is gone.

“Content, then.”

“Nor content. I was waiting, Mira. Biding my time, until I could come home. I’ll never be happy anywhere but at Burleigh House.”

“Then reconcile yourself to the way things are,” Mira warns. “His Majesty won’t make you Caretaker. Your father failed to get the deed. Burleigh House is falling apart—did you see the countryside? Folk around here are suffering because of this place. It might be better if—”

“Don’t say it.” I turn away and fiddle with the sleeve of my blouse to hide how her words pain me. Mira sighs.

“Vi, my darling girl, I’m not trying to hurt you by telling you the truth. But the fact is, I’m not sure there’s a safe way of keeping this House.”

Getting up from my place, I kneel at Mira’s side, taking her work-worn hands in my own.

“I don’t have to be safe,” I tell her. “I have to do my job, assomeone who’s meant to be Burleigh’s Caretaker. Did Papa find Burleigh’s deed?Please, Mira, I need to know.”