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After Alice brought me the chocolate and toast, I rubbed my jade dragon and quietly crept down the hall, and out the front door. I did not want to take any chances of being caught, so I went to sit outside the library window. I was glad I had opened the window just a little to let the early evening breeze it. It was the perfect spot; I could hide behind the bushes and eavesdrop. I wanted to know what was being said, and this way I could and I wouldn't have to be in the same room as that Nathan Throckmorten!
"So what is this about further murders in London?" I heard Edward asking. "There hasn't been any mention of it in the paper."
"Quite true," Mr. Throckmorten answered. "I happened to be calling on the police station in regards to a pickpocket I had encountered leaving the club, and I heard them questioning that young male friend of yours, what's his name, George Hodge? Yes, I think that was it. He and his father had arrived as I was leaving after making my statement."
"You don't say?" James said. "George was being questioned?"
I tried to get closer, but the shrubbery was in my way — all leaves and sharp branches.
"I do indeed say. Apparently he had been seen at one of the locations the victim was found. He had blood on his clothing."
What? I stifled a gasp. George was seen with blood on him? But I thought he said that there hadn't been any wounds, just missing livers. I supposed blood would make sense, but why did my George have blood on him?
"I am sure there is some reasonable explanation," Edward said. "Perhaps he had come to the assistance of the victim and was making a report."
"That could be," Mr. Throckmorten purred. "He did look like he had been in a tussle."
"You mentioned he was with his father?" James said, trying to gather more info. Thank you, James, I thought.
"I did say that. Yes," Mr. Throckmorten answered. "I was leaving, but it did sound as if there was some shouting by the Marquis as if he was angry."
"Well, I am sure there will be some mention of it in the paper," James said.
"Perhaps, I ran into the chief at the local pub later the next day, and I tried to garner some information from him. It was the oddest thing."
"What was?" Edward asked.
"He did not seem to remember there having been a murder."
"Perhaps he just couldn't say anything, so they can find the suspect," James replied.
By then I was peeking through the window, but trying to stay low.
"I suppose that is true. Yet he also did not remember my report about the pickpocket. So I went back later and had one of the clerks look for my complaint. Oh, and dear me, I forgot. This part is truly dreadful," Mr. Throckmorten continued in a loud whisper. "This last victim was a woman, and she had been ... well, let's just say I am just so very grateful that you had taken Elizabeth out of town."
I heard movement, as Mr. Throckmorten continued in his suave voice, "My sister and I decided then to leave the city as well."
"I am grateful too that we had left when we did," Edward said.
"Well, it is growing late," Mr. Throckmorten said with a smile. "I should be leaving. I would imagine you have much to talk about."
"We do, I'll have Henry show you out," Edward said courteously.
"Why thank you," Mr. Throckmorten said, his voice was close to the window. I heard Edward call for Henry, and then Mr. Throckmorten was leaving.
***
The next day, Edward and James had me go to the fencing room with them. "I want to show you how to defend yourself," James said.
I thought about yesterday's inquiry about sparing with him.
"You were serious?" I asked.
"Most serious," James said.
"Besides, we won't always be around to protect you," Edward added.
"James, Edward, I—” I was very touched they cared so much.
"Do you ... care for this Throckmorten chap?" James asked me.
"Most emphatically not," I said.
"Be careful of him, I don't like him," Edward told me.
"I shall be grabbing you from behind." James brought my attention back to him. "I want you to spin around and clasp your hands together at my elbow, pull me toward you as you either then jump up and drop to the ground, or just drop. You'll pull me down with you. But you must let your full body weight drop on me as you pull."
"Seriously?"
"Yes, it's your body weight that will keep your attacker from remaining standing," James said.
We drilled the move, and James and Edward were both pleased. Grab, drop, repeat. Over and over, until we were both exhausted.
***
Finally, the weather turned chilly with the late autumn air, and with it arrived George. And so we had the Hodge's over at Pendington.
George, Edward, and James were playing a game of cards. I was pretending to read.
Mr. Hodge gently took the book from my hands and turned it right side up." It would help with your understanding of the text if you had the book right side up."
I mouthed a silent oh. I was quiet as he just sat there with me, which I did appreciate.
"I think I am angry with George," I said softly.
"I know," Mr. Hodge answered with a shake of his head. "You should tell him."
I was silent for a while, watching George play cards. He smirked as he placed a card down, and won the game. Oh, did my blood boil with that grin of his. He knew he was supposed to be fictional, that he should not exist. Gumihos were not supposed to be real, yet there he was!
Not only that but I had heard nary a word from him in weeks. No, months. He had left me quite alone, scared, and desperately in love with him.
Before I knew what I was doing, I had picked up my book, walked over to George and found the book crashing down on his head. Yes, it was horrifying in a way, and gratifying too. I stomped out of the room. The younger men's jaws hanging open.
Mr. Hodge just chuckled.
* * *
The next morning, I was almost too embarrassed to go down for breakfast. Yet, I noticed a big difference in how I was feeling. I was not angry anymore. Maybe smashing George with the book really had helped. It was his fault I was feeling all this turmoil. If he hadn't been a gumiho, things would be much different. In a way, I had felt that George had lied about who he was. Although, to be fair, how do you go about telling someone you are fictional? "Hi, I'm George and I'm a mythological being. I should not exist, but I do. Pleased to make your acquaintance. Now I shall make you fall in love with me, and totally mess up your lovely ideal world."
Yeah, great idea.
As I was walking down the hall towards the dining room, Edward and James stopped me.
"What is it?" I asked impatiently.
"Did you and George have a quarrel?"
"No, we didn't quarrel."
"Yet last night you struck him with a book?"
I winced. James just had to mention that.
"I was angry with him. You would be too if you were in my shoes."
"Ah, I think I understand," Edward said. "Mouse, I want to ask you something delicate. Are you in love with George?"
I tried to laugh. "Don't be silly."
"Mouse," James persisted.
"We're not giving up until we have an answer," Edward added.
"I think she's got it bad," Edward told James.
"Certainly looks like it to me," James agreed as he clasped his hands behind his head.
They were talking about me when I was right there. And in such a manner!
"Yes! The answer is yes!" I yelled, and I marched right past the dining room and out the door to the gardens.
"I think there is more to this story," Edward said.
"No kidding," replied James.
Men. They could be so clueless sometimes. Did not my brother's realize I did not want to have to answer that very question? To admit that, to anyone but myself makes it real. If I keep it to myself, no one is the wiser. I can keep my heart safely tucked away. Besides, I do not want to be sucked into a world where things like werewolves, vampires, and gumihos exist. Wait, Mr. Hodge had already told me that things like werewolves and vampires do not exist. Bites do not transform you into something new. Well, then how do you explain the cow that goes mad when it's bitten by a crazed wolf? Maybe that rabid wolf is — was a werewolf.
It didn't really matter. Crazed and rabid animals were killed, and the people bitten by them always died before they could transform. So maybe Mr. Hodge was wrong.
Like I said, it really didn't matter.
Because I loved a gumiho.
My mind raced back to what Mr. Throckmorten said. George had blood on him. I thought of the picnic when thinking that Mr. Hodge was pulling my leg about gumihos, I had jokingly asked George if he was such a creature.
"Indeed," he had answered. "But I do not eat the livers of my lovers."
George did not eat livers, but ... that meant there had to be another gumiho lurking in the shadows.
***
"Here, you will want your cloak," George's voice was gentle behind me as I felt him place my cloak over my shoulders.
"Oh, thank you." I kept my eyes towards the ground as he moved in front of me and tied my cloak. Gently he brought up the hood and covered my head.
"There, that is much better." He sounded pleased.
"It's cold out," I managed to say after a while. I was feeling embarrassed.
George chuckled softly. "That's because it's nearly winter now."
Snow was indeed lightly falling.
"I like snow." I wasn't very good at small talk. "I'm sorry I hit you with the book."
"It's all right, I'm sure I probably deserved it.”
"You heard?" I had a sinking feeling he had.
"It was hard not to. I was in the hall."
"Oh, well, I—”
“I thought I might have been too late,” he whispered.
I looked up at him. What did he mean, he thought he might have been too late?
"Do you not know, dear sweet cheonsa? You are naui yeong-wonhi sarang." He was watching for my reaction. It was the phrase he wrote to me for my birthday. "My forever love."
And with that, he kissed me.
***
Before long, the Yule season was upon us. Tristan and Sarah Jane arrived to celebrate the holidays with us. George and I had successfully found the perfect yule tree to put in the house to decorate for the Christmas holiday. It was a lovely full tree, neither too big, nor too small. I loved the idea of lights on the tree.
"The yule tree looks lovely," Sarah Jane said as she and Tristan walked into the room.
"I think it would look prettier with lights," I said. "I read that it's customary in Germany to have three tiers of candles on them."
"That can cause fires." Tristan winked at George, who quickly covered a smile with his hand.
"We shall be careful!" I insisted as I opened the box of beeswax candles.
Tristan tried again. "Candles are not really the best lights for a yule tree, are they George?"
"What other kind of lights are there?" I looked over to George.
"Pixies," Tristan answered without hesitation.
"Seriously?" I said, "Pixies?"
"Not exactly," George said. "Tristan means pixie lights."
"How do we get pixie lights?" James was intrigued.
"Well, we'll start with these.” Tristan took my candles. “And we'll sprinkle these with pixie dust."
As Tristan sprinkled them with pixie dust, he placed each candle on the tree. Once on, he rubbed his ring, and small little bubbles of light appeared. Tristan smiled at them and pointed to the tree. The little pixies then went and danced and twirled. One pixie per candle, causing a flame-like glow.
"Amazing," I said in awe.
***
The next day was Christmas. I felt happy. I was surrounded by the people that mattered most to me, my immediate family, and the Hodges. I was sitting in the parlor watching the magical lights flicker.
"You look lovely," George spoke from the doorway, I smiled and beckoned him in. I was wearing a rich dark green dress.
"I should warn you, my aunt invited the Throckmorten's for dinner," I told George.
"It's nothing we can't handle," George replied, weaving his fingers with mine as he sat next to me.
"I'm really happy this Christmas," I said.
"As am I.”
"I got you a gift." I pulled a small little box out of my pocket. "I know it isn't much, but I hope you like it."
"What is this?" George accepted the gift and smiled at me as he opened it. "I love them!" George carefully removed the cufflinks. I had, with the help of Mr. Hodge, found little dragon cufflinks.
"I wanted you to have something like the dragon charm you gave me."
George didn't say anything, he just pulled me into a hug and kissed the top of my head.
I didn't think Christmas could get much better, but I noticed it started to softly snow outside the window.
"It's snowing! How perfect!" I couldn't help but smile, and I stood up and walked to the window. The flakes were the large type. I sensed George get up and come to stand just behind me. I bit back a smile. Love was good.
"I want to be with you always, Elizabeth," George whispered in my ear. "If you'll have me. Will you marry me?"
Of course, there was only once answer to that. Somehow I managed to say it, an unhesitant ‘Yes.’