Evie

“He really is perfect,” Yelena sighs dreamily. “And is it wicked of me to say he’s very rich too?”

I laugh. “Not at all. That’s what it all comes down to in the end, isn’t it? For girls like us. The richer the husband, the better,” I say, and it’s with a pang that Gil’s face springs suddenly to my mind.

Father has all but renounced me as a daughter, but I wonder if a man like Gil, with no fortune and a commoner’s profession, suddenly appeared to ask for my hand in marriage, what would he do? Happily be rid of me? Or hold out on the slim chance a better prospect would come along?

What am I imagining right now? I ask myself as I feel my hand tighten unconsciously over Gil’s coat. Aren’t I thinking about that guy a little too much? I already know it would be a mistake to fall in love with him. Maybe he was a little kind to me last night, but he’ll forget all about me the moment Yelena blinks her big gray eyes at him.

Ah, everything is so frustrating. What I need is a walk to clear my thoughts. I wonder what excuse I can make to Mrs. Agate that will allow me a few hours in the forest to myself. I could offer to pick more wildflowers, or—

“Evangeline?” Yelena recalls me to her presence with a certain tone in her voice that tells me she’s about to ask for a favor. I tense a little. “I want to eat mushrooms. I don’t suppose you could…”

I brighten at once and beam at her. “Of course you should have mushrooms. I’ll get them for you gladly. What kind?”

“Remember those mushrooms you told me you picked along the back edge of Silvertree estate?”

“The morels?” I frown. That’s a rare mushroom. I’ve been up and down every game trail this side of the mountain, but I’ve only found them growing in this one area. “Last time I picked morels Mr. Livingston hadn’t moved in yet. I don’t know if it would be appropriate for me to trespass…”

“Oh, Alexander won’t mind,” she says eagerly. “He knows you’re my sister; he’ll let you do anything you like.”

“Perhaps I should ask permission first,” I muse.

“You don’t need to worry about something like that. He really won’t mind one bit if you pick a few mushrooms on the edge of his property. It’s not like you’re going up to his house or anything; he won’t even know you’re there.”

She’s probably right about that. And anyway, I’d prefer not to deal with Mr. Livingston again, after the scene he witnessed yesterday. I’m sure his opinion of me has lessened considerably, even if he did say I was cute before.

“Alright,” I say, rising eagerly from my bed. “I’ll go get your morels.”

“Thank you, Evangeline! You really are the best sister in the whole world!”

“I’m hungry. I’ll have breakfast first then head out,” I decide as I make my way to the kitchen.

“No time for that,” Yelena says impatiently. “I really want to eat mushrooms for lunch.”

“But—”

“Please, Evangeline. You can skip one meal for me, can’t you?”

It’s like she doesn’t even hear herself sometimes, I think with a disappointed shake of my head. For the sake of her gourmet meal, she wants me to skip my own humble breakfast.

But it’s true I did want an excuse to get outside, I think as she practically shoves me out the door, barefoot with a basket in hand. And I’m sure to find all sorts of edible things to forage on my way to Livingston’s estate.

And so it’s with an empty stomach and a thankful heart I make my way into the woodlands, walking west to where the morels grow beneath the shady pines. On the way I dig up a few dandelions, eating the roots and leaves and even the yellow blossoms and tossing the stems in my wake. Bitter fare but not unpleasant, and they fill the hole in my gut so that it quits grumbling so much.

After a brisk twenty minute walk I reach my destination, the forest just behind Silvertree estate. Peering through the pines I can faintly see the big house in the distance. It’s hard to know exactly where the property line begins, but I’m hopeful that I’ll mostly remain on the right side of the law as I begin combing the forest floor for the signature brownish gray conical shape of the morel. Unlike other mushrooms, they have a distinct exterior that resembles a honeycomb, so they’re unmistakable when you actually find one. The trick is—finding one.

Even here, they are scarce, but my knowledge of their habitat serves me well, and in just ten minutes I’ve already located half a dozen. That’s when I hear it—the faint tones of male conversation in the distance. My heart squeezes with panic. Is it Mr. Livingston? I can’t say for sure. It’s cloudy and a bit of a mist has settled in, so visibility is poor.

For now, they seem far enough away, so I’ll carry on as quickly as I can. If I sense them getting too close, though, I’ll bolt. They’ll never sneak up on me; I’ve trained myself from the youngest age to mark even the slightest disturbance in the forest floor, so that not even a mouse’s footstep escapes my notice. For now I know I’m perfectly safe right where I—

BANG!

A gunshot pierces the still morning air.

BANG! BANG!

More shots, and I hear the tree I’m standing next to splinter with the impact of a bullet.

They’re shooting right at me!

A few more shots go off and I scream, laying myself out flat on the forest floor. My cry echoes and the gunshots cease. I hear men coming closer, calling out if anyone’s there, but I’m too scared to move.

Then through the trees, I spy familiar faces and my heart sinks.

It’s Mr. Livingston and Gil, and they’re carrying rifles. I’ve been caught trespassing—what excuse can I give? Suddenly I have no words at all. With another little cry, I scramble back to my feet and bolt, pine needles spinning behind my bare feet as I tear through the forest, heart slamming furiously in my breast.

What must Gil think of me now? I wonder as a sudden burst of tears blinds me. He’ll think I’m a sneak, a horrible thief. I’m so ashamed of myself, I think I could die.

But then, a voice nags at the back of my mind, I nearly did die back there. Those men were carrying guns, but I don’t get the feeling they were hunting for trespassers. If I had to guess, I’d say they were target practicing. But what were the odds that I’d be there just beyond their targets in that exact moment?

Why, the odds were perfect, I realize with a sinking feeling. After all, Yelena arranged them herself…

Gil

“Good Lord!” exclaims my old friend Alex. “There was a girl there!”

“Yes, there was a girl,” I answer with a grim expression.

“But that looked like—”

“Miss Stuart, Yelena’s elder sister.”

Alex blanches. “We should go after her! Make sure she’s alright.”

“She’s alright,” I say as my eyes go to the forgotten basket, the scattered mushrooms on the forest floor, to the bent blades of grass where she fell, to the fresh wound in the pine just overhead, bleeding sap. I take it all in with a kind of morbid awareness, following the trail her feet left where she fled into the mist. “No one injured could run like that.”

“All the same,” Alex is a genuinely good person, and so it’s no surprise that he’s upset. After all, he very nearly killed an innocent woman while out sighting his new rifle. If any harm had come to her by his hand, I know my friend would never forgive himself.

If any harm had come to her…

“I’m going after her!” Alex declares abruptly, thrusting his rifle into my arms, but I stay him with a hand.

“It’s too late, she’s already gone.”

“But she’s only a girl; I’ll easily catch up.”

I shake my head with a kind of certainty, even as I feel a faint smile tug at the corners of my lips.

“You’ll never catch that one.”