The carriage pulled over at a large mansion, and by the eerie light of the moon, Candice glimpsed it towering size and beautifully trimmed gardens.
"I refuse to go inside Cassius!"
"Then you can freeze outside here while I get warm by the fire." Lord Cassius remarked sarcastically.
She had no choice to follow as the temperature dropped further. She refused the urge to shiver as she neared the front entrance.
Mrs. Cobb's the housekeeper greeted her wearily by the door. Not weary for the late night hour more like weary for the fact if this new Miss would survive the curse that had longed plagued her master.
"Let me take your coat, Miss and lead you to your chambers," she said kindly.
"Thank you," whispered Candice already tired from the whole night's ordeal.
"Mrs. Cobbs, do not allow her anywhere near the east part of the house."
"Yes, Master." She said obediently.
Candice was surprised to find that her chambers were beautiful; they were decorated in bright fuchsia and gold trimmings. The bed was large, the fire crackled warmly, inviting her into its warm embrace, and the curtains were thick, drawn by gold strings. The floor was covered with a great big carpet that depicted a pattern of fall leaves and gold flowers.
"I will send for the maid to help you freshen up for bed."
Mrs. Cobbs said before she left her chambers.
The maid arrived and helped her strip of her many layers of clothing. She had a relaxing warm bath and dressed in a thick night dress. Candice was surprised to find that the clothes in her wardrobe came in all shapes and sizes and in every colour imaginable.
"I shall send for the taylor in the morning to take your measurements, My lady so that you will have clothes to wear come afternoon."
"Very well," Candice said before she fell asleep in her large bed.
She woke up to the whispers of an old woman's song, in the early hours of the morning.
Curious, she slipped on her slippers and followed the voice, it got louder as she entered the gardens.
Seated beneath a large tree she spotted an old woman feeding the birds with seeds from an old sack.
"You have awakened and found me, I see," the old woman commented, taking note of her presence.
"You will break the curse, my dear, but be warned, his heart belongs to another."
"What do you mean?" Candice asked puzzled.
"Lord Cassius is many things, but he will win you over. Just be warned, you may not have his heart."
The old woman cackled evilly.
And Lady Candice jolted awake in her bed. It was a dream.
What a strange dream she thought as she watched sunlight spill past the curtains and into her chambers.
Candice dressed slowly the remnants of her dream plaguing her at the back of mind as she did. She chose a pale morning blue gown trimmed with lace. She pinned her hair with deliberate care leaving most of it unbound running down her back. She would not be afraid of this Cassius.
Mrs. Cobb escorted her to the breakfast room.
It was a long, high-ceilinged chamber lined with tall windows that overlooked the frost-kissed gardens. A single table had been laid near the hearth, silver gleaming, china warmed, steam curling from covered dishes. Lord Cassius stood by the window, one hand clasped behind his back, the other holding a porcelain cup he had clearly forgotten to drink from.
He turned at the sound of her steps.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Candice hated that she noticed how rested he looked in the morning light his black hair, sharp features softened just enough to be dangerous. He was dressed simply, in charcoal and cream.
"You did not flee in the night," he said at last.
"I considered it," Candice replied coolly. "But your gates appear as unwelcoming as you."
A corner of his mouth twitched. "Sit. Breakfast gets cold quickly in this house."
She took her seat opposite him, noting the distance he kept between their chairs. It was intentional. Everything about him seemed intentional.
As servants uncovered the dishes—fresh bread, poached eggs, spiced sausages, dried fruits the colour of rubies Candice realised how hungry she was. Still, she waited, refusing to be the first to reach for anything.
"You dreamed," Cassius said suddenly.
Her hand stilled.
"That is a bold assumption."
"You were restless," he continued, finally meeting her eyes. "This house does that to people. Especially new ones."
Candice lifted her chin. "I dream wherever I sleep. Your mansion is not so remarkable."
Cassius studied her for a long moment, as though weighing a truth he had no intention of sharing. Then he gestured for her to begin eating.
"So," he said lightly, "did the dream involve my untimely death, or merely my eternal misery?"
Candice hesitated, then decided honesty would serve her better than silence.
"There was an old woman," she said, breaking her bread. "She said I would break a curse."
Cassius's cup clinked softly against its saucer.
"And?"
"She warned me that your heart belonged to another."
The warmth in the room seemed to shift, the fire snapping sharply as though offended.
Cassius leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "Old women say many things. They are rarely burdened by truth."
"Yet you did not deny it," Candice observed.
"No," he said calmly. "Because denial gives power to questions best left unanswered."
She met his gaze squarely. "I am not afraid of answers, my lord."
His eyes darkened not with anger, but with something far more unsettling. Amusement, perhaps. Or interest.
"That," he said softly, "may be your greatest danger here."
Silence settled between them, thick and heavy, until Candice pushed back her chair.
"If I am to remain in this house," she said, "I will not be treated as a pawn moved at your convenience. I want honesty. And freedom to walk where I please."
Cassius stood as well, towering slightly over the table. "You may have honesty," he said. "But the east wing remains forbidden. That is not a request."
"And if I disobey?"
His voice dropped. "Then you may discover why so few survive long enough."
Candice's pulse quickened, but she did not look away.
"Then it seems," she said, smoothing her skirts, "we are both stubborn."
Cassius watched her go, a slow, thoughtful smile touching his lips long after she had left the room.
Outside, the gardens glistened under the morning sun.
And somewhere, unseen, an old woman laughed.