Page 26 of A Time of Witches

Chapter Twelve

Lilith

Lilith turned down Brackenmere Manor Lane on the wrong side of the road, at least compared to what she was used to in America. The rental car jostled over the barely paved path toward a rooftop peering above the overgrown trees in the distance.

A thick forest of oak trees crowded the fern-strewn ground in a way that was strangely, intimately recognizable. That familiarity pressed at the edges of her awareness, demanding her attention.

“If adventures will not befall a young lady in her own village, she must seek them abroad.” Lilith had always been intrigued by that line from Jane Austen’s Northanger Abbey. Too bad, in this case, fate had decided there were not enough adventures to befall Lilith in Savannah.

Just over a week had passed since her discovery of the manor. In that time, Shelver’s Books had hired a full-time employee and generously allowed Lilith to take two weeks off to explore Bury St. Edmunds.

Flying in an airplane wasn’t as terrifying as she’d thought—at least once the slight issue of her missing ticket had been resolved, thanks to the email she’d saved with her flight information. The stomach-dipping disorientation of takeoff and landing, however, was not dissimilar to what she experienced when she fell into the nightmare.

Those dreams had become more frequent since visiting the fortune teller, more vivid and insistent, as if something dormant had been awoken.

Traveling to England was only the first step. The next would be to visit Brackenmere Manor in the hopes she could pull a Nancy Drew and uncover something that would crack the mystery open, so any of this made sense.

Lilith slowed the car, tires crunching over the gravel driveway as she parked before the two-story home.

The building was likely constructed within the last few decades, with creamy walls and slate-colored shutters. An arching trellis of roses framed the door with pink blossoms big as dessert plates.

Mama would’ve killed for roses like that.

Lilith climbed out of the car and paused at the trunk, immediately regretting her heavy suitcase with all that gravel to contend with. Before she could haul it from her trunk, the front door opened and a man about her age strode out.

A boxer loped along at his side, face tucked into grumpy folds that matched his owner’s stern expression.

The man’s gait was sure and confident as he approached, his blue eyes bright against the navy T-shirt that stretched over his broad shoulders and revealed a muscular physique she couldn’t help but notice.

“Lilith, I presume?” he asked in a posh accent. But then, to her, all the accents in England so far had sounded posh.

Not only was he ripped, his head was as clean-shaven as his jaw. She’d been a sucker for bald men since that drummer she’d had a fling with during her first year of college.

She had assumed Asher was an old man, living alone with an even older aunt, but apparently she’d been wrong…

“That’s me.” Lilith smiled at him. “Asher?”

He gave a nod. “And this is Toby.” He stroked a hand over the boxer’s crinkled head.

While his welcome could use a dose of Southern hospitality, Essie would be delighted to hear the report on the hot bed and breakfast owner.

“Hi, Toby.” Lilith beamed down at the boxer, who sat back on his fleshy rump and stared at her.

Asher reached for her luggage, biceps bunching as he lifted the suitcase like it wasn’t full of books and way too many creature comforts. The red HEAVY tag fluttered from the handle.

He hesitated, still holding her bag. “I hadn’t anticipated you would be here so quickly.”

Lilith glanced at her watch. Half past eleven in the morning. “I’m actually an hour later than I said I would be.”

“I mean, from the time of your inquiry on the website to your decision to come to England.” He narrowed his eyes and the corners crinkled in a way that suggested he might be slightly older than her twenty-six years. “Coming to Brackenmere Manor must be very important to you.”

“Practically a matter of life or death.” Lilith gave an awkward chuckle.

His brow furrowed in what might be concern, but was gone in an instant. “I imagine you’ll want to see the manor today then?”

“If that’s okay?” She hated the question in her tone when her need to see the old house was borderline desperate.

Asher turned toward the bed and breakfast, and Toby grunted up, toddling after him.