6. Someone is Dead

“You think Mr. Notley isn’t a killer? He just tried to kidnap Miss Green!” Marfleet said. He kept a tight hold on Notley with one hand, leaving the other free to gesticulate.

“Let him go.” Blackburn said with the utmost confidence.

“Mr. Blackburn!” Cordelia reprimanded. “I must agree with Mr. Marfleet. This man is certainly dangerous, if not our killer.” She shared a brief look with Marfleet, who gave her a curt nod.

Blackburn opened his mouth, then shut it again. “So be it. Marfleet, do what you’d like.”

Cordelia immediately sighed and shifted back and forth on her feet, eager to leave the damp, darkness of Dulwich Wood. However, neither of the men moved an inch.

“What are you waiting for?” she prompted brazenly. Her old habit of ladylike passiveness was well on its way to being snuffed out completely.

Marfleet glanced over her way. “Mr. Blackburn never makes my job so easy. He has given in without a fight.”

“Enjoy it,” Cordelia said emphatically. “Now, please, can we get out of these woods?”

* * *

Marfleet had dragged a listless Notley back in the direction of his carriage, leaving Cordelia and Blackburn alone.

“Off we go,” said Blackburn, starting off and glancing at Cordelia out of the corner of his eye.

Even though she was quite keen on getting out of the woods, she was slow to follow. “Are you going to tell me what just happened?” she asked. In habit, she tried to adjust her gloves, then remembered that they were missing. She glanced around, but did not see them on the forest floor.

Blackburn adjusted his top hat and replied, “How do you mean?”

She narrowed her eyes at his back and hiked up her skirts so that she could better catch up to him. “You know what I mean, Mr. Blackburn.” She walked ahead of him, body turned sideways to look at his face.

His turquoise eyes stared right back at hers, just as stubborn.

“You agreed with Mr. Marfleet to make him go away,” she said proudly. That much she’d deduced.

Blackburn gave her a sly smile. “Alright, Cordelia. But walk beside me; I fear you may trip, sidestepping as you are.” He took her wrist to guide her beside him. His hand felt hot on her skin.

Hastily, she pulled her arm away. For a moment, neither said a word, and their footsteps seemed to resonate through the woods.

“You’re dead,” Blackburn finally said in a grim tone. Ever steady, he continued to stride forward, his cane thumping the ground in time with his step.

Cordelia, however, faltered. The world stopped for a moment, fear constricting her chest more than any corset she’d ever worn. She tripped forward, only just catching herself.

Blackburn shot out a hand to steady her, but she ducked away, making sure he didn’t touch her skin again.

She blew out a breath. “I don’t feel very dead,” she said hotly.

He looked down, as if amused, then stopped, looking her straight in the face.

Blackburn looked at her with gentle eyes, but still Cordelia stared beyond him.

His eyes cast down to her hands then up to her neck, and finally to her face, obscured by her veil. By now Cordelia knew how pale her skin looked, and she was sure the moonlight only highlighted this fact.

“You want to know what happened; Notley came after you and no one else. Why? And your skin,” Blackburn put out a hand, but didn’t actually touch her, just hovered near, “is so cold.”

Cordelia closed her eyes, willing the memories to stay away. The night, it could have been any night. “You think Notley attacked me because I’m dead?” She forced herself to laugh. “What an odd man you are, Mr. Blackburn.”

But Kent Blackburn was not easily dissuaded. “Notley healed that tree. That much I know you saw. That was the work of a nature spirit, not a human.”

Cordelia bit her lip, his words sounding a little crazy. But not fully crazy. Because she knew that the unbelievable could become reality. “You’re saying Mr. Notley isn’t human?”

Blackburn leaned forward on his cane, as if confiding in her. “He used to be. But something in this forest has used his body as a sort of... vessel.”

Cordelia’s eyebrows drew together in concern. “So something killed Notley to use his body? Would they have killed Samuel Bellingham too?” They should not just be standing in the forest if there were murderous forest-dwellers running around.

“Perhaps,” Blackburn began, beginning to walk again. Cordelia almost sighed in relief as they seemed to have dropped the topic of her… liveliness.

“But I don’t think this is the case. More likely, it is the work of nymphs. Generally they try to heal their forest, as we witnessed Notley doing. They also clean up, so they will recycle the bodies of the dead.” He gave her a pointed look. “Which is why Notley wanted you.”

“Or,” Cordelia retorted, “you see spirits where there are none, and Mr. Marfleet is actually correct.”

To this Blackburn did not reply, and Cordelia heard only their soft steps through the damp grass. Cordelia looked over at her companion, who was clutching his top hat due to a sudden burst of wind. Cordelia shivered, realizing only then how significantly the temperature had dropped during their escapade.

“Why have you gone silent?” Cordelia asked when he still would not acknowledge her.

He glanced her way. “I am letting you think, Cordelia. I am letting you decide what you would like to believe occurred. If you truly believe Marfleet is correct, then I will not try to convince you otherwise.”

She sighed, because of course she did not believe Marfleet was correct.

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