“You should make the time. Without the touchstone of family, one leads an imbalanced life.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
“Of course, it’s true,” he said. “The strongest ties are blood and land. They are constant. Romantic love is all too fleeting.”
I didn’t necessarily agree, possibly because I had no blood ties, and the only land I’d ever been attached to was hallowed ground. But I knew about love. The bond I’d felt with Devlin had been so swift and irrevocable that even now, months apart, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Couldn’t stop wanting him. It was a constant ache.
I glanced at Pell Asher. His gaze was hard upon me, and I felt that odd little shiver again.
“Blood and land,” he repeated. “That’s why we treasured our cemetery. Alive or dead, Ashers are compelled to return home.”
The cemetery—I noticed he refused to call it Thorngate—had been so valued, in fact, that he’d given it away as atonement for his sins. I had no idea if the family was still involved with the upkeep, but it occurred to me that Pell Asher could very likely be the secret benefactor. Who else in town would be so inclined to make such a large donation to the Daughters of our Valiant Heroes for the purpose of a restoration? And who else would find discretion necessary in order to avoid poking any lingering resentment?
“It’s a lovely resting spot,” I murmured, for lack of anything better to add.
“Have you been inside the mausoleum?”
“I took a peek. I didn’t go down into the tomb, though. I’ve found it best not to explore underground chambers alone. One never knows about the stability.” Among other dangers.
“It’s perfectly sound,” he said. “But if you’re worried, get Thane to go with you. You’ll want to see the vaults. Julia’s, my wife, is especially beautiful. And he’ll want to show you the Sleeping Bride.”
“Is that another statue?”
“No, my dear, the Sleeping Bride is my great-aunt Emelyn Asher, my grandfather’s youngest sister. She died on her wedding day, trampled by a team of runaway horses. The family had her body sealed in a glass coffin where she remains to this day as perfect as the day she died. Thane can tell you the rest of the story. He was fascinated by it as a boy.”
I could imagine. “Did he grow up here?”
“He came to me when he was seven. His mother was married to my son Edward for a time. After she passed, Thane stayed on with my son because he had nowhere else to go. But Edward wasn’t long for this world, either.” I heard the sharp edge of grief in his voice. “After his diagnosis, he brought Thane here, and in time, I grew to love the boy as if he were my own flesh and blood. God knows, he’s done more to restore the family’s holdings than my son.”
My gaze strayed back to Thane. His grandfather had painted a very different picture from the image I’d formed on the ferry. But Thane’s own words had led me to believe him a shallow, aimless man given to drink while awaiting his grandfather’s passing. Now I was starting to see him in a different light.
“He’s been through a lot for someone his age.”
I sipped my wine without replying. We were straying into territory I had no wish to explore. None of this was any of my business, and I would be horrified to learn that Mama or Papa had ever spoken to a stranger about my personal affairs. Not that they would. We Grays were a private lot even with one another. But in spite of my discomfort, I found myself listening attentively.
Those black eyes gleamed, as if he sensed—and enjoyed—my uneasiness. “Thane lost his mother and the only father he’d ever known in a very short period of time. He recovered, of course, because he is nothing if not a survivor. But then he lost Harper…”
He had purposefully trailed off to make me curious. He knew exactly what he was doing and so did I, but I took the bait, anyway. “Harper?”
“The girl he wanted to marry. They were inseparable for a time, but it was a match that was never meant to be.”
Such a high-handed proclamation. I felt resentment on Thane’s behalf. “What happened to her?”
“She was killed in a car accident. Driving too fast in a rainstorm…missed a turn…” He sighed. “She’d been up here to see Thane that night, and he blamed himself for allowing her to leave in such terrible weather. But Harper was headstrong and that is putting it kindly. Truth be told, the girl was unstable. So reckless and out of control she was a danger to herself and to others. Thane refused to see it, of course, and her parents were useless. They could have gotten her help years earlier, but they preferred to bury their heads in the sand. It was easier to let someone else clean up her messes. I’m just grateful she didn’t take Thane with her that night.”
“It sounds like you knew her well.”
“I knew her only too well,” he muttered, or at least, that’s what I thought he said.
He watched me with those dark eyes. I had the unsettling notion that he was trying to plumb my deepest thoughts. I had no idea why he’d spoken so frankly about something so personal, but I suspected he did nothing without premeditation. What he wanted from me, I couldn’t imagine.
I was relieved when Thane materialized before us. “You’ve monopolized Amelia enough for one night,” he said and reached for my hand. “I promised to show her the library.”
“I’m afraid it’ll have to wait.” Pell Asher’s gaze shot to the doorway where a split second later, the maid appeared to announce dinner.
Candlelight masked the water stains and peeling wallpaper in the dining room, but that faint scent of mildew followed us through the arched doorway. The table, however, showed no sign of the deterioration that plagued the rest of the house. Antique china and crystal gleamed on a bed of ivory lace, while silver candelabras flanked a centerpiece of purple wildflowers in shades so complimentary to Luna’s dress, one might assume she’d had a hand in the selection. Surely, no woman in her position would be so brazen, but Luna was an enigma. I wondered if, like candlelight, her luminous façade veiled some deeper flaw.
The table display was lavish for such a small gathering, and I was reminded of Thane’s earlier comment about the extravagance of cemetery statues—money that might be better spent on the living. I was no expert, but I had to think that even one or two of those exquisite place settings may have netted enough at auction to fix a leaky roof. Why, then, had Asher House been allowed to fall into such a state of disrepair?
Handwritten cards designated the seating arrangement, and with a little shuffling, we all found our places. Pell Asher dominated the head of the table, and Maris nervously took a seat at the other end. I was sure she would have preferred to be nearer to her husband, but etiquette and tradition dictated her position. When we were all settled, I noticed that Luna had somehow ended up next to Hugh, making me wonder if she’d engineered a last-minute switch. I didn’t dare glance at Maris to confirm my suspicion. It was hard to look at her knowing what I knew, but my awkwardness paled in comparison to her situation.
I was seated to her right, Catrice Hawthorne to her left. At the other end of the table, Luna and Bryn bookended the elder Asher while Thane and Hugh claimed the middle chairs, directly across from one another. Despite poor Maris’s discomfort, it was the best possible arrangement for me, with Bryn Birch on Thane’s other side. I would have hated to spend an entire evening next to her.
Regardless, I wasn’t looking forward to the meal. The library beckoned, and I was itching to get started, particularly if the records turned out to be the treasure trove Thane had promised. As a restorer, I tried to remain as faithful to the original vision and layout of a cemetery as was humanly possible, which was why I spent hours scouring old newspapers and church books before I ever removed so much as a thistle. But it wasn’t often that I had the opportunity to examine photographs from the late 1800s. The prospect of studying those historic images excited me almost as much as the possibility of uncovering information about the hidden grave.
That grave. I was self-aware enough to know that I wouldn’t have peace of mind until I could put a name to it. Until I made sure it was given proper respect. The site was so remote and lonely. I couldn’t imagine why someone had been laid to rest in such a desolate spot. It made me sad to think of it.
As I contemplated how best to go about finding my answers, I realized the most fruitful resources might not
