Darker Still by Leanna Renee Hieber Page B

me.
    Could Denbury sense that his circumstances had changed from what little he could discern beyond the murky water that separated his reality from ours? Likely he wondered if I was ever going to step in to him again. I wondered if I even could. I feared for my access to him.
    Eventually it seemed odd that we had been standing so long in one room with one painting (though I could’ve spent a lifetime under those blue eyes), so Mrs. Northe invited us back for dinner and Father graciously accepted. I found it a great blessing that Mrs. Northe’s company was one thing that he and I so immediately and thoroughly agreed upon.
    “I wish I could come,” Maggie pouted. “But Mama’s insisted I dine with Gran . Ugh. I’d much rather be with you, Auntie. I can’t bear dining with old people.”
    “Take care with your remarks, Margaret. One day you’ll no longer be young,” Mrs. Northe retorted.
    “Yes, but Gran’s constant commentary about how New York is going to hell in a handbasket and the misery of the weather grows terribly tedious. Every day she exclaims that she’s sure she’ll get killed by some Lower East Side gang and we have to remind her she’s never been to the Lower East Side, not to mention she’s not a particularly interesting target.”
    Mrs. Northe and Father chuckled despite themselves. Maggie turned to me. “I’ve invited Fanny and Elise over for high tea at my house tomorrow. You must come, Natalie. Can she, Mr. Stewart?”
    I turned to my father hopefully. He nodded, and I hugged him, which made him smile wider than I’d seen in some time.
    “Mr. Stewart, could you drop Maggie at home in your carriage? I’d like to speak to the foundation about an estate grant. Go on to my home, and have Marie bring some tea or coffee to you in the parlor. I’ll be after you in a moment.”
    Father nodded, collecting Maggie and me and ushering us up the stairs. As we ascended, I glanced back to see Mrs. Northe shut the door to Denbury’s room. I kept a smile to myself. She wasn’t going to be talking money; she would be investigating those markings.
    • • •
    Maggie kissed my cheek as she hopped out of our carriage at the grand mansion before us. “Tomorrow, then. Wear your best dress, Natalie. That’s important. Do you hear me?”
    I nodded, annoyed that she should think otherwise. Of course I’d want to look my best. I was terrified they’d make fun of me, but I wasn’t about to turn down Maggie’s invitation.
    Once we were finally settled at Mrs. Northe’s home, she invited me to help with some light pastries. We left Father in the former Mr. Northe’s den with a fine cigar, a snifter of brandy, and innumerable books. We could have left him there indefinitely. Mrs. Northe was immediately all business.
    “Firstly, runes. Secondly, it is most certainly you, my dear,” Mrs. Northe said quietly once we were alone. I stared at her, not understanding. “The markings are runes, and good of you to notice them. And only you can go through that portal into Denbury’s realm. I tried several tricks after you left us and before I packed him up for transit. The canvas is a door only to you.”
    My chin tilted higher. (Upon recollection as I write, I think my reaction was, in fact, stirrings of jealousy. I’ve been jealous before, of course, of Edgar’s damnable bride and the stable boy’s preference for Mary O’Donnell at school, but I digress…) I do believe I was jealous at the thought of anyone else going into that painting with my Denbury. I was the girl destined to save him. The glass slipper fit only one girl, remember…
    Mrs. Northe brushed a fond finger over my cheek. “Is that a twinkle of pride I see in your eyes? Does Denbury have his princess in you indeed?”
    I shrugged and blushed. I wasn’t sure. Did he? Mrs. Northe chuckled.
    “It would take a very wise young woman to know that she shouldn’t always trust a fairy tale.” She grinned. “Especially not where blue eyes like