Firethorne

Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Maya

M iriam kept her smirk in place and quirked her brow in a questioning manner, as if she was wondering why I was bawling down the corridor at her, asking her what she was doing following me. She belonged here, and I didn’t. I knew that. I felt it with every step I took, every breath, every awkward and creepy encounter.

Miriam stepped towards me and started to speak, her earlier smug expression replaced with concern as her face softened and her eyes grew warmer. Concern that looked so perfect, and yet... too perfect. Like she’d practised in front of a mirror to get it just right. Maybe she had.

“Maya, are you okay? I was worried about you. I saw you heading out of Lysander’s studio, and you seemed out of sorts. I came down here to check you were all right and you started shouting at me. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I wasn’t scared,” I replied. “I just don’t like people creeping up on me, is all.”

Miriam’s brows hit her hairline. “ Creeping? ” She sneered, and then she righted herself, as she smiled and said, “I wasn’t creeping. I saw you head into Uncle Nicholas’s office first, and then you darted out of Lysander’s studio, and I assumed something awful had happened. I don’t creep around here, Maya, I just... see things. More than the others do.” She took a step closer and put her arm out, resting it on mine in a comforting, friendly gesture. “I’m your friend, Maya. You don’t have to be defensive with me. Maybe with Damien and Lysander, but never with me.”

“Lysander is always lovely to me,” I replied, choosing to stay quiet about Damien. He might’ve stopped Edward from assaulting me earlier, but the jury was out and deliberating pretty quickly on him.

“Lysander’s lovely to everyone,” Miriam said dismissively, shrugging her shoulders, and I didn’t like the way that made me feel. Like his kindness wasn’t genuine. As if it was something he bestowed on everyone. Like I wasn’t anything special.

I wanted to argue back, but that, in itself, would only prove her point, that I was being defensive. So, I smiled, trying to ignore how the heat of her hand on my arm made me feel a little uncomfortable. As if I was being coaxed into a trap like the rat I’d found on my step this morning. I tried to subtly edge away from her, but she grabbed my hands and held onto me.

“Anyway, I’m so glad I bumped into you today,” Miriam went on. “I wanted to give you something.”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a silver chain. Then she held the locket that was attached to it and announced, “I want you to have this.”

She thrust the locket and chain towards me, but I didn’t take it, I just stared at it in disbelief.

I didn’t even know this woman.

Why was she giving me jewellery like we were lifelong friends?

“I can’t take that,” I told her, and she frowned in confusion.

“Why not? It’s just a necklace. A gift from a friend.”

“But I work here,” I stated, watching the subtle twitch of her jaw as her smile stayed frozen in place. “I’m an employee. It wouldn’t be right to take gifts.”

She popped her hip, her head tilting as she gave me a sorrowful sigh. “Don’t put yourself down, Maya. You’re worthy of a gift. And hopefully, one day soon, we’ll be more than acquaintances. We’ll be friends. Best friends. But this...” She thrust the chain forward again, almost touching my chest as she held it out expectantly. “Is more than that. Remember what I said yesterday? Us girls have to stick together. You can’t trust the boys here.” Another breath as she waited for me to take it, then, when I didn’t, she added, “It’s to keep you safe.”

The way her demeanour changed as she said the last part had me questioning everything.

“How will a locket keep me safe?” I asked, reluctantly taking the oval-shaped pendant from her and holding it up. I marvelled at the ornate patterns and swirls on the silver casing, running my fingertips over the smooth, cold metal.

“Because it has my number engraved on the other side, see?” She reached forward and turned the pendant over to show me, her fingers grazing my palm oh-so-gently as she did. Lingering a little longer than I’d have expected, and I stared at her, a million questions swirling in my brain.

“Am I in danger here?” I asked in a low voice, expecting her to tell me something.

Maybe she knew about the notes.

Maybe she was the one behind them, making sure I was forewarned and guarded. She had told me I shouldn’t trust anyone in this house except her when we first met.

She leaned forward, her face a breath away from mine as she whispered, “You are in danger. Grave danger. And any moment you may fall victim to...” A beat, and then she pressed her lips so close to my ear I almost shivered. “Lysander’s terrible jokes or Damien’s sour moods and salty put-downs.”

She giggled to herself as I stepped back. After the morning I’d had, I wasn’t in the mood for her teasing.

“Why would I need to ring you?” I snapped, growing irritated. “I don’t even have a phone. There’s one in the cabin, but I don’t have my own.”

Miriam’s eyes widened as she scoffed. “You don’t have a phone? But everyone has a phone.”

“Not me,” I replied, and the silence that hung between us was deafening. “And this is really pretty,” I went on, peering down at the pendant in my hand. Then, thrusting it forward to give it back to her, I added, “But I don’t wear jewellery.”

“Maya,” Miriam stated firmly, ready to chastise me. “It’s a gift. Take it. Stop finding excuses not to.” I went to argue, but she interrupted me, holding her hand up and saying, “And maybe my next gift should be a phone.” Then, under her breath she muttered, “How anyone can survive in this day and age without a phone is beyond me.” She rolled her eyes then spun around and stalked away, giving me no choice but to keep a hold of the necklace. A necklace I had no intention of wearing.

I stood for a moment, watching her disappear down the hallway. I thought about leaving the necklace on the side table next to me, but I didn’t. Instead, I stuffed it into my pocket, where Lysander’s sketch was safely tucked away, and I turned to head for the kitchen.

My head was beginning to hurt from how much I was frowning. The people in this house were strange, aggravating, perplexing, walking contradictions, and yet I seemed to keep getting dragged further and further into their tangled web. I wanted to know more. I wanted to be a fly on the wall, learning secrets. Secrets I knew were embedded in this house as dark and eerie as the mansion itself.

And I needed to know who was sending me the notes.

“Did you manage okay, love?” Cora asked as I walked through into the kitchen.

“I think so.” I was still frowning, and Cora noticed.

“Why do you look like you have a thousand questions you need answered?” she said, as she kneaded dough, flour dusted all over her hands and up her arms.

“Probably because I do,” I replied. “But maybe I need to start with the most important one.”

“Which is?”

“Why am I here?”

Cora laughed, but it wasn’t in a mocking way. No. It was in a kind and motherly way.

“Isn’t that the question we all ask ourselves?” she said as she continued to knead the dough.

I went to the island and sat on one of the stools, my eyes fixed on the way her hands twisted and moulded the dough as she hummed to herself. She seemed happy here, content with her life. She even spoke back to Damien, which I guessed not many people did, especially not staff. She fitted in, and yet she appeared normal, like me. Not like them.

“Everyone here is...” I took a moment to think of the right word. A word that wouldn’t insult Cora, seeing as she seemed so attached to the Firethornes. “Different.” Not the best word, but it got my point across.

Cora stopped what she was doing, took a cloth from the counter to wipe her hands, and sat on a stool opposite me.

“Different doesn’t always mean bad. I’ve worked for the Firethorne family for thirty years, and yes, they can be difficult, but there’s so much more beneath the surface.”

“Lysander seems nice,” I said, starting with the positive.

“Lysander has always been the golden child. He was so placid as a baby. The apple of his mother’s eye growing up. But he has his problems, just like the rest of us. He can be vulnerable at times, but he doesn’t show it. He likes to make people happy.”

“I can’t believe they’re brothers,” I said on a whisper, my eyes pinned to the counter in a daze as the words came out before I could stop them. I knew they were half-brothers, but I wasn’t going to disclose that I knew that.

“They’re more alike than you think,” Cora replied. “But Damien is guarded. He doesn’t trust many people. Life hasn’t been kind or fair to him, so he acts accordingly. But I will say, if you are one of the lucky ones, the ones he trusts and accepts into his inner circle, he’ll do anything for you. He’s the kind of man you want on your side.”

Because having him against you is lethal , I wanted to reply, but I kept my thoughts to myself and asked, “And Miriam?”

Cora chuckled.

“Miriam can be a little minx. But I know she has a heart of gold.”

“I know she’s their cousin,” I went on. “And she spends a lot of time here, but where does she live?”

“She lives in the village. Her mother is Mr Firethorne’s sister. But she spent most of her childhood here at the estate. Mr Firethorne practically raised her as his own.”

“And Mr Firethorne? He’s quite... foreboding.”

“He’s firm but fair. He’s always been a good employer to me.” She stared into her lap, smoothing her apron as she spoke. “They’re not like you and me. I know that. They’re aristocrats. The life they’ve lived is a far cry from what we know. But it doesn’t make them bad.” She looked up at me with a pleading yet pleasant smile.

“Just different,” I added with a wry smile.

“Perhaps.” Cora nodded in agreement. “I guess you’re right. But you’ll get used to them soon enough.”

But I wouldn’t.

I wouldn’t get used to secret messages being left for me. Or necklaces with emergency phone numbers on. Or having visitors treat me like I was an object for them to abuse.

I wouldn’t get used to men skulking around the woods like Damien did this morning, or snide comments from the other staff like Beresford.

I wouldn’t get used to any of it. But I was here now. Here for my father. And the minute I’d saved enough money to leave, we’d be out of here.