The Queen's Price

SEVENTY

At Eileen’s insistence, Saetien accompanied the other woman into the village proper to do some shopping. She’d balked at first. There was still so much work to do on the cottage’s gardens. But Eileen was canny and knew her quarry. The first shop they visited was the bookseller’s, where Saetien bought a new copy of the first Tracker and Shadow book. She hadn’t read one of Lady Fiona’s novels in years, but now that she was dealing with Shelby and the puppy school—and adult Scelties who were a lot bossier than the ones who lived at the Hall—she wanted to read the book that was an adventure, yes, but was also considered a primer for humans who had never crossed paths with a Sceltie before.

The second shop sold everything a farmer—or a cottage gardener—needed to take care of land. The temptation to buy every tool available was fiercely battled by enough practicality that Saetien purchased only a basic set of gardening tools, along with shovels, rakes, and a wheelbarrow that didn’t have holes or a wobbly wheel.

She vanished the tools, but she wasn’t confident enough about her skill with the Purple Dusk Jewel to tackle the wheelbarrow, so she asked if it could be delivered to the cottage.

“No need for that,” Eileen said as she vanished the wheelbarrow. “We can stop by the cottage and drop off your new tools. Besides, I’d like to see how you’ve been getting on.”

After a few more stops for items on Eileen’s list, they set off for the cottage.

“It’s coming along well,” Eileen said as they slowly walked toward the shed that stood between the cottage and the small stable. “You’ve done a lot of work here, Saetien.”

“Caitie helped a lot, and she’s identified plants I didn’t recognize, so I haven’t dug out anything I wanted to keep.”

“It’s kind of you to let Caitie work with you. She’s less . . . vague . . . these days, and not wandering on her own as much.”

“She’s a friend,” Saetien said, wondering if Eileen thought Caitie should be pitied. There was no reason to pity Caitie. Whoever she might have been was gone because of her injuries, but she was building a life that suited who she was now. If she and Saetien were helping each other? Well, wasn’t that what friends did?

“You came home early yesterday.” Eileen brushed a hand over Saetien’s hair. “I can listen if you want to talk.”

She shook her head. “I think talking to me about the past sometimes stirs up painful memories for Butler.”

“I’m not surprised at that.” Eileen studied a weedy length of the garden. “Did he mention that Lady Fiona asked him to look after her cottage and her books? He took it on when Fiona started needing help around the cottage and help with managing the publishing of her books here in Scelt and in the other Territories. That was a lot of years ago.” She smiled. “I noticed you bought the first Tracker and Shadow story.”

“The primer for dealing with Scelties.”

Eileen laughed. “That’s why it’s still printed and read. And that’s why a business manager is still required.”

“Well, I hope he manages her books better than he took care of her garden,” Saetien grumbled.

“When it came to the gardens, I think he was better at the digging and hauling than the planting and tending. Everyone to their own skills, aye?”

“Aye.”

What sort of skills did Butler have?

“I think you were waiting for this.” Kieran held out a letter closed with red wax and a distinctive seal.

Her father had replied to her letter!

“Thank you, Kieran.” Taking the letter, she dashed to her room.

Then she stared at the letter. What would he say in response to her . . . grumble . . . about Butler and the cottage garden?

She breathed in. Breathed out. Poured and drank a glass of water as she tried to remember exactly what she’d said.

Finally, she opened the letter.

Dear Saetien,

Your annoyance at a potentially beautiful garden being buried under weeds is understandable. However, I feel compelled to point out that gardens are best enjoyed in daylight, when most flowers bloom—and the hours of daylight don’t belong to the demon-dead. While I understand your annoyance, I also understand why Butler may no longer feel the same enthusiasm when it comes to evicting weeds, since he never has the chance to see the garden at its best.

There are some lovely night-blooming flowers that grow in Scelt. You could ask Lady Eileen if she has any of those plants. Perhaps she would share some seeds or a cutting that you could add to the cottage’s garden. Then Butler would have a reason to look after the land again.

With love,

Papa

She waited until after supper, when Eileen settled into the sitting room with a book and the men had gone over to Kieran’s side of the house to discuss whatever business needed to be discussed.

“Night-blooming flowers?” Eileen smiled. “Yes, I have some in my garden. It’s a little too early in the season for them to be blooming, but I can show you what they look like. I have a book of drawings of plants that grow in Scelt.” She set aside her book. “I think it’s in the morning room, which is where I tend to make my plans for the garden. Come along, then.”

It took Eileen no time at all to find the book, but she continued to scan the bookshelves until she found a second book. She set both on a table. “This one is formal and official—pen-and-ink drawings of the plants and flowers, along with descriptions of how they grow and what they need. Very useful, but a little cold, I always thought. This other one is old, and I’m not sure many copies still exist. Drawings of plants by themselves and in a garden setting.”

Eileen was right about the first book. It was formal and official. Useful in identifying plants. The other book . . .

Several different artists whose work ranged from amateurish, if one was being kind, to drawings that almost made you feel the moonlight.

The first time she went through the book, she noticed the drawings. The second time, she noticed the names of the artists—noticed the names of the two artists whose work was so infused with a love of the land that Saetien wished she could walk through the gardens these women created.

Two names. Morghann. And J.A.

Saetien pressed her fingers on the edge of one of the drawings. “Lady Angelline knew a lot of the demon-dead.”

“She did, yes,” Eileen replied.

“Would Angelline House have night-blooming plants?”

Eileen smiled. “A whole section of the garden there has night-blooming plants. We could go over tomorrow and have a look, if you feel inclined.”

“I’d like that. Maybe Caitie could come with us?”

Eileen’s smile warmed. “I’ll send a note to her parents, inviting her to join us. And I’ll send a note to the staff at Angelline House so they know to expect us.”

Saetien said good night and went up to her room to read while Shelby snoozed, recovering from the discovery that there were kittens in the stables. Not kindred, no, but not toys for Scelties either, as the kittens made perfectly clear with their sharp little claws.

Would Butler be pleased or upset if she planted seeds or cuttings from Angelline House?

Would he ever tell her about the other unwanted child?