upstairs, was sitting in an armchair near the window, as if she wanted to be halfway between inside and outside, near the freedom of the windy beach. She had tucked her legs under herself, and her silver hair was flowing freely down to her waist. With the moonlight shining on her, her eyes gleamed silver too. She’d been spending a lot of time at Midnight Hall – just like when her mother was the housekeeper there, and she had played with Mairead every day.
Niall was trying to catch glimpses of her when he thought nobody noticed, but Winter knew, of course. She was quite aware of the effect she had on the opposite sex. There was something wild and beautiful about her that never failed to entrance.
“Will you come and explore with me, Niall?” she said suddenly, her clear gaze on him and a smile playing on her lips. Mike stifled a smile, his eyes darting from one to the other. What was happening, what had been slowly happening since Winter had arrived on the scene, was clear for everyone to see. Unlike Sarah, Winter was an open book, her feelings and desires always plain for everyone to see.
“I haven’t been in the grand hall for years. I want to see what it looks like now,” she continued.
Niall rose at once. “Sure thing!”
Upon seeing him so eager, Mike couldn’t suppress his smile any longer.
“Let’s go, then,” said Winter sweetly, and Niall’s cheeks flamed scarlet.
“Have fun,” called Mike mock-seriously. Niall ignored him.
“This place is huge,” Niall murmured as they stepped out into the corridor. “It’s at least double the size of our family home in Skerry.”
“It’s at least fifty times bigger than my cottage!” laughed Winter.
“But a lot smaller than the sea,” said Niall.
“True,” Winter replied softly. “When I was little Mairead and I used to roam around this place for days on end,” she continued as they walked. “Playing hide and seek here was just brilliant, we wouldn’t find each other for hours!” Winter laughed her lyrical laugh. “Come. I want to show you something.”
She took his hand, entwining her fingers with his – Niall felt something warm stirring in his chest, and held onto her. She led him down the corridor to a wooden door, and pushed it open.
“The library,” said Niall.
“How did you guess?” she laughed, gesturing at the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves full of leather-bound volumes of all shapes and sizes.
“I’m very observant!” He winked.
Niall scoured the shelves. “I’ve never seen such a collection before. Botany, astronomy. Oh.”
“What do you see?”
Niall laughed. “A modern book. Yoga Workouts. Do you think Morag Midnight did yoga?” He grinned, holding up a pink-and-yellow-covered book with a woman sitting in the lotus position.
Winter laughed too. “Maybe Hamish.” Her eyes danced. “What is it doing here?”
“It probably belonged to Sarah’s mum.” Niall fingered the soft covers, walking slowly from shelf to shelf. “Some of these are five hundred years old,” he said in awe.
“Look,” said Winter, pointing to a thick black volume. “The History of the Midnight Family by Lord Gregor Midnight. One for Sarah.”
“Ideal bedtime reading,” smirked Niall. “Oh,” he said, crossing his arms and looking up.
“What’s the matter?”
“That book up there, see?” Winter raised her chin, flicking her hair away from her neck. A gust of her seawater scent wafted towards Niall’s face and he breathed her in deeply, glancing at her white throat as she looked up. “Between Two Worlds,” he said, trying to regain composure. “I want to have a look at that.”
Winter looked around. “There should be a ladder somewhere, or at least there used to be.”
“There!” Spying the wooden ladder, Niall positioned it and started to climb, stretching himself until his fingers brushed the book he wanted.
He wiped the dust off the cover with his sleeve and opened the first page. An intricate label had been glued on it. Midnight, it said in Gothic fonts. He climbed down and handed the book to Winter. She traced the deeply engraved letters on the cover with a finger.
“Come,” said Niall, and took her hand. He led her to the sofa by the window. “Ouch! The Midnights’ idea of comfort was quite … different,” he complained as he sat on the rigid leather surface, hitting the backrest.
“I’ll tell you a secret,” whispered Winter as she sat beside him. “When my mum was housekeeper here they had no hot water. At all. Ever. They all took cold showers and baths. They bathed the babies in water from the stove, but as soon