Free The Lie Tree by Frances Hardinge

been asked a question.
    ‘Do forgive Faith – she is still recovering from the voyage yesterday.’ Myrtle gave Faith a far from forgiving look.
    ‘It must have been very trying,’ Miss Hunter agreed. ‘Particularly since I understand you brought none of your own servants with you?’ Her smile was a little too
sweet.
    ‘The house we have leased is fully staffed,’ Myrtle responded quickly.
    ‘Oh, I do not blame you at all!’ Miss Hunter spread her plump, well-shaped hands. ‘There is always so much trouble when you mix two lots of servants – we all know how
they gossip!’
    Faith’s cup clicked against her saucer. Miss Hunter’s words were too close an echo of her own suspicions. The Sunderly family had not brought their servants because they did not want
to bring gossip with them.
    ‘I do hope you will find you have everything you need on Vane,’ Miss Hunter continued amiably. ‘We are not without society, and most of the London fashions reach us sooner or
later. We even . . . receive the London papers. Usually a day late, but news is not milk – it keeps well enough.’ Her tone was dry, but now with an unmistakable barb. ‘I am
particularly
fond of the
Intelligencer.
Do you ever read it, Mrs Sunderly?’
    ‘I prefer
The Times
,’ declared Myrtle, with unnecessary hauteur, her spoon tracing hasty circles in her cup.
    Faith kept her head bowed, hoping that her face did not show her feelings. She had started to hope that no dark rumours about her father had reached Vane. There was no mistaking Miss
Hunter’s veiled meaning, however.
    Faith glanced at her mother, and saw that Myrtle’s cheeks had turned pale.
    Mother knows. The accusations against Father – Mother must have known about them all this time.
    We didn’t outrun the
Intelligencer
after all. It followed us all the way to the island. Miss Hunter must know about the scandal already . . . and soon everyone else will
too.

CHAPTER 6:
YELLOW EYES
    As Lambent’s carriage took the Sunderly family back to Bull Cove, Faith tried to work up her courage. She needed to speak with her father. She needed to warn him about
Miss Hunter’s words, and to let him know that whatever happened, she was on his side. It was torture seeing him bear so much alone.
    When at last they reached home, and Jeanne had taken their coats and hats, Uncle Miles lit a taper and fumbled for his pipe, preparing for his customary stroll and smoke.
    The Reverend halted him at the door. ‘Miles – if you’re stepping outside, stay near the house. Earlier today I had the gardener set gin-traps.’
    Uncle Miles coughed out an incredulous lungful of smoke.
    ‘Erasmus – is that wise? In the dark . . . if people are unaware of the danger . . .’
    ‘I hardly see that allowing nocturnal intruders to prowl the grounds can be described as either “wise” or without danger,’ retorted the Reverend. ‘Now, if you will
excuse me, I must visit the folly.’ He strode out into the garden.
    A little while later the Reverend returned with a small, wooden box in one hand. As he came in, stamping the soil from his shoes, Faith rallied her courage.
    ‘Father, can—’
    ‘My dear, I wonder if I might speak with you?’ Myrtle spoke at the same time, drowning out Faith’s more hesitant voice. She wore the expression of careful alertness she always
used when addressing delicate subjects with her husband. ‘There is something I need to mention to you.’
    ‘It will have to wait,’ the Reverend responded curtly. He stared down at the box in his hand. ‘Everything will have to wait. There is a matter that requires my immediate
attention –
all
of my attention. I shall be in the library, and under no circumstances must I be disturbed.’ The Reverend had claimed the library as his study from the first
day, and it was now sacred ground.
    Faith’s father had mastered the art of making his words sound gravestone-final, his decisions irrevocable. The library door closed behind