wandering around in search of that plant until she froze to death.
As it was, she knew just where to find it.
She hurried through the gate and down the gravel pathway toward the opposite corner of the garden, wincing as the icy ground penetrated the thin soles of her shoes. By the time she reached the lavender patch her toes were half-frozen and her fingers clumsy with cold, but she pushed as much of the woody stalks of lavender aside as she could and searched with both her eyes and hands until she found…yes, there it was, growing up against the high stone wall behind it.
Cecilia was just reaching down into the clump when a strange noise made her go still. It sounded like the crunch of footsteps running over the gravel pathway, but when she turned and peered into the gloom behind her, there was nothing.
She shook her head, grimacing. All this talk of ghosts was frazzling her nerves.
Still, the sooner she was back inside, the better. She reached down again, took ahold of the plant as close to the root as she could, and plucked up a few stalks, the scent of spearmint thick in her nose as she shoved them into the pocket of her apron.
She turned back toward the garden gate, but before she could take a step, she heard the sound again. Footsteps on gravel, running faster this time, what sounded like the muted creak of an iron gate opening, and then—
Cecilia froze where she stood, the crash of the gate slamming shut echoing throughout the garden.
There was no time to stop it, no time even to cry out. By the time Cecilia realized what was happening and ran for the gate, it was already closed. She grabbed the latch and shook it desperately, but it didn’t move, and a quick glance at it confirmed the sick suspicion twisting in her stomach.
Whoever had slammed the gate closed had latched it from the outside. Of all the doors in this blasted castle that were meant to be secure, this had to be the only one that actually was.
Cecilia whirled around and ran to the opposite end of the garden where there was a high wooden door set into the stone wall, but it was locked, just as she’d known it would be, and so was the door leading from the garden into the stillroom.
She turned back to face the garden, her gaze darting this way and that in the darkness, searching for an escape, but it was no use. The wall had been built to keep animals out. It towered over her, as did the arched gate at the front, which had been set into the stone wall.
As she stood there shivering, the snow falling from the sky quickened, and the downy flakes grew heavier. She didn’t have a coat, or boots, and the wind was sneaking up her skirts and down the back of her neck, turning her flesh to ice.
No one knew she was out here. Amy would miss her when she didn’t return to Isabella’s bedchamber, but the kitchen garden was the last place they’d look for her. It could be hours before anyone found her.
Cecilia pressed her body close against the castle wall and huddled there to shield herself as best she could from the raw, bitter wind biting through the thin layers of her clothing.
Someone would come after her. When she didn’t return to Isabella’s bedchamber, Amy would send Duncan out to look for her. He’d find her out here, sooner or later.
All she could do now was pray it would be sooner, rather than later.
Chapter Twenty-one
It looks like a nightmare.
Gideon stopped in front of the iron-studded oak portcullis, and Haslemere and the half-dozen men they’d brought back to Darlington Castle with them drew their horses to a halt behind him.
Had it only been three weeks ago he’d stood in front of the castle that had once been his home, and cursed it as a living nightmare, the withered heart at the center of all his shattered dreams?
It looked as grim now as it had then, but when he gazed up at it, his chest no longer tightened with bitterness. No shudders of revulsion rolled down his spine. His stomach wasn’t clenched with anger, and he wasn’t choking on grief.
Everything had changed, and there was only one way to account for it.
A smile drifted over his lips as he recalled his first glimpse of Cecilia, wrapped from head to toe in a