It was a subdued party that moved back through the maze to the house. Dawn was mindful that Elijah had now lost both his parents, and while the lad said Ava meant nothing to him, the death of his mother wasn’t something to celebrate.

Lettie walked arm in arm with the young man. Marjory and Hector held hands, although the nurse kept pushing at the retainer and telling him to get away. Dr Day walked at the back of the small group, his black bag dangling from one hand.

Dawn pulled Jasper to a halt and let the others vanish around a bend in the maze. “What did Ava mean when she said your father ruined her family?”

“I don’t know. My father lived for a thousand years and fought many battles. The last, in which he was greatly injured, was when Elizabeth Tudor made him earl, gifted him this land, and the Warder council entrusted my parents with a Ravensblood sapling. Perhaps in saving England he wronged her family, or it might have been from an earlier time.” He ran one hand through his hair and removed a leaf from his battle with Ava.

Dawn let out a sigh. So many families locked in a never-ending battle for vengeance. When would it be over, or did they ride the swing of the pendulum until the end of time? She had thought defeating Ava would be the end to their concerns, but so many strands remained. “Lettie said that Ava stole her Cor-vitis seed. If she did, how do we recover it now she has been destroyed?”

Jasper glanced at the corner of yew where his sister had disappeared. “I don’t know. I didn’t even think such a thing was possible. Did she say when?”

“Years ago, possibly even decades.” Sadness dropped through Dawn. How she wished the quiet doctor was Lettie’s perfect match, but if the seed had germinated from someone’s touch decades ago, it couldn’t possibly be him. How would they ever pinpoint when it happened, let alone who was at the estate at the time? Finding Lettie’s seed and match would be like searching for a needle in a haystack.

“Ava might have thought to use it to trick me or Julian into thinking she was a true mate. But as to how we find it, I have no idea. It would have to be here, somewhere.” Jasper gestured to the tall green walls and beyond.

Dawn’s analogy of needle in haystack evaporated, now she was searching for one tiny invisible seed hidden somewhere in hundreds of acres. It was even more hopeless than diving into a pile of hay.

She tried not to be disappointed. Just as the Ravensblood had healed her by removing the traces of Ava’s vine, she hoped the tendril in Lettie’s head was likewise squashed. Perhaps when her mind healed, she might remember more about who awoke the seed. Even if they never found her Cor-vitis, she could still have a chance at a happy life with the gentleman who sparked the reaction. Unless he had married decades ago and was now a fat, old grandfather.

Jasper pulled Dawn close and placed a finger under her chin. He tilted her face. “Lettie will heal and then I suspect will want to set sail. We have all been prisoners for too long.”

Then he kissed her, a leisurely taking as the moon rose above then. Dawn had pressed closer to him when something nudged against her side.

Mouse.

She laughed and patted the wolfhound.

“We were probably taking too long for him,” Jasper said. “I suspect he’s going to want to sleep in my room now.”

“Is that an invitation? I’ve not seen your room.” She smiled in the growing dark. She had tried to imagine where he might sleep in the big house. Would his room have some remnant of the boy in there, like a toy hidden under the bed, or would it be the domain of a man nearly three hundred years old and full of cobwebs and dusty reminders of lives long since passed?

“We can remedy that oversight,” he growled.

The dog barked and trotted ahead as they left the maze.

The lines drawn by the Cor-vitis on Dawn and Jasper faded over the next few days, and an identical intricate knot work pattern slowly emerged on both their upper arms. As her wrist healed, the splinter merged with her skin to form a trunk with tiny leaf-covered branches curved around her wrist like a bracelet – a miniature replica of the Ravensblood tree.

Each day she discovered more about the unique connection between Lord Warder and the Ravensblood. Dawn was aware of each Warder on the estate as silver strands that radiated out from the tree to the individual. The link to Jasper was stronger and pulsed with a life of its own. She had only to pluck a strand as though it were a harp string and the Warder would answer.

Dawn couldn’t completely abandon the cosy gardener’s cottage, and it didn’t feel right to move into Jasper’s enormous suite. Their nights were divided between a number of different beds, including the one in the lavender room. The gentle civility of the furnishings reminded her of home and made her feel closer to her parents, and she sought its soothing purple and grey tones when grief raised its head.

Jasper never uttered a word of complaint but simply laid his head next to wherever Dawn chose to sleep. Although he did occasionally mutter under his breath about the bed in the cottage being both too small for certain activities but not so large that she could escape his grasp while they slept.

As a sign of her move to the big house, Dawn relocated the delicate orchid to the side table in the family’s private drawing room. The plant’s vivid cerise blooms were a punch of colour amid the soothing greens and browns that showcased the orchid perfectly.

Today Dawn sat in the drawing room with an open sketchbook on her lap doodling plans for a conservatory. It was a type of space the manor house lacked, and a glass enclosure would give them somewhere warm and sunny to sit when the temperatures outside plummeted over winter. She had decided the south side of the house, reaching toward the herbaceous border, would be the best location. Now she had to decide on a shape and size. She had brought the obsidian egg to sit on her papers and held the warm weight in her hand as she drew. Rubbing its stone surface soothed her and reminded her of her mother.

Lettie and Elijah played chess at a table with the board inlaid in the surface. Two serious faces studied the pieces. Every day the tight lines around Lettie’s eyes diminished and her laughter seemed lighter and more natural. She had less need for Nurse Hatton, and soon the older woman would be free to live her twilight years as she pleased.

Jasper sat in a worn leather armchair by the fire. An open book rested in his hands, but Dawn caught him staring at her when he didn’t think she would notice. At night, they exchanged quiet words of love, and with each day, that bond grew into something stronger and deeper. She wondered if he plotted his proposal but didn’t want to ruin her anticipation of the event by asking.

Hector knocked briefly on the door and then entered. “Large trunk arrived on today’s train for Miss Dawn.”

“Oh marvellous.” She laid down pencil and set the egg to wobble on the pad as she rose to her feet. “It will be all that remains of my life in Whetstone.”

“And a letter accompanied the trunk,” Hector said, holding out a cream envelope.

Dawn froze and glanced to Jasper.

He stood and took the correspondence from Hector’s hand. He flipped it over and read the address on the back. “From Mr Stevens. No doubt it will be a response to my queries. Do you want to read it or shall I?”

Fear gripped Dawn and her hands curled into her skirts. What would the solicitor say? That Lettie’s casually thrown words were ridiculous and the Uxbridges’ deaths had been a terrible accident, or had he discovered a darker plot?

She swallowed and sat back down. “Could you read it, please? I fear the shake in my hands would make it unreadable.”

Jasper flicked the seal open and pulled out the sheet within. He scanned the page, his lips murmuring softly, then he glanced to Dawn. When she nodded, he returned his attention to the letter and began to read aloud.

“Dear Lord Seton,

First let me say how it gladdens my heart to hear that Miss Uxbridge flourishes under your care and attention—”

Jasper looked up and winked at Dawn. A faint flush ran over her skin as she thought of his care and attention. His analogy had proved true; her delicate health had never been a human problem and like her orchid, she had found the perfect environment to allow her to thrive and bloom. She grew as strong as the Ravensblood, now that it was free of Ava’s poison.

Jasper continued reading.

“—I will admit to serious misgivings about the tragic death of my long-time colleague and his dear wife, but did not wish to add to Miss Uxbridge’s grief by mentioning them. Having read that you hold similar concerns, I shall now unburden what has troubled me these many weeks.

On the day in question, there was a heated exchange in Uxbridge’s offices. I confess I succumbed to curiosity and left my office door ajar, the better to hear what caused such an uproar in the usually quiet accountant’s rooms.

At length, five grim-looking men left. One clutched a large satchel, and I assumed him to be the bearer of bad tidings making his rapid exit, as he charged off first. Four doleful investors followed, muttering among themselves. Then my friend and his wife emerged. I hailed him in the hallway, but he had little to say apart from, ‘We are ruined, all of us. Verity says he speaks false and we have been swindled. I have demanded a full accounting or I will involve the authorities.’ Those were the last words I had with my friend before he hurried off to his carriage and, as it transpired, to meet his death.

I recognised one of the other investors and tried to have a quiet word at the funeral, but the man took quite ill and bolted. I am convinced that Uxbridge’s death served the dual purpose of stopping him from examining the financial records and to silence the other investors, lest they also voice their concerns.

But how to prove it? I have little to provide in the way of evidence, alas. All I can discover is that the investment concerned a new shipping venture, to use the modern steamers to transport cargo much quicker than sail. The steamers were to be built by Lawson & Ocram Shipbuilders in Whiterock.

A substantial amount of capital was raised for this venture, by Uxbridge and four other fellows, from themselves and their clients. Supposedly the first ship constructed, the Esmeralda, went down somewhere in the Atlantic. The ship was uninsured, the cargo and all hands lost, and the creditors could not be satisfied, resulting in the bankruptcy of the company.

I hope you might have connections who can discover more, for I have found only closed doors and even more firmly sealed mouths. No one will utter a word about Lawson & Ocram or their owners.

I can only imagine what dark plot Uxbridge stumbled upon, and I pray you keep Miss Uxbridge safe and convey my warmest regards.

Yours sincerely,

Mr J. Stevens, solicitor.”

Jasper folded the letter and silence fell over the room. He sat next to Dawn and took her hand in his. She drew from his calm strength as she let the contents of the letter sink into her mind.

“Your mother revealed herself. The Soarer knew who she was,” Lettie said from her seat.

“Now I know why Father wanted Mother at the meeting that day, to see if the business manager was telling the truth or not,” Dawn said as she curled in fingers against Jasper’s skin.

“We know a false picture was presented, one which cost your parents their lives for asking for the accounting records.” Jasper stroked the back of her palm with his thumb as he thought.

“Or for Mother being a Meidh.” So many unanswered questions. “How did you know it wasn’t an accident, Lettie?”

The elegant young woman turned in her chair. “The water gathers whispers in each drop. Rain falls and touches lives as it passes. Each tiny orb holds a single thought or impression. The lake is full of memories and glimpses from around the country. Sometimes it’s hard to pick out particular ones, but when I was swimming, I touched those that had fallen near your family.”

Dawn glanced up at Jasper. “Can you listen to the rain?”

His lips pulled in a brief smile. “Only undines use water. Gargoyles use the ravens and the stationary watchers on buildings.” Then he returned to the topic at hand. “Whiterock is in County Durham, only a few miles from Sunderland.”

“Which is where my parents came from twelve years ago.” She remembered little of those sickly years, of struggling to survive in the wrong garden. That time was only glimpses from a window or whispers in the hall.

Jasper drew her closer and placed an arm along the back of the sofa to shield her. “Different threads seem to be drawing themselves together. What do you wish to do?”

Resolve crept down her spine. “We find the truth. If we can.”

He reached out and stroked her face. “There is an old Warder called Samuel Thorne in County Durham. I will send a raven first, see what he knows.”

She turned and kissed his palm. “Until then we can only wait, and plan.”

His arm dropped over her shoulders, and she nestled in close against him. “Time reveals all, Dawn. This family has merely survived for too long. Now is the time for lies to be revealed and for justice, for both Julian and your parents. Just as you promised to heal this family and estate, I promise to you that we will find those responsible and expose them.”