the middle of “The Death Bride,” right at the point where Marino had gone in pursuit of a masked woman.
Angelica turned the page. The woman seemed to have disappeared into thin air. Intrigued, Angelica kept reading until she reached the spot where Marino’s fiancée, Ida, returned to the ball in search of him, only to be told he’d just left with her. Good heavens, how was that possible? Unless…
The flame from Angelica’s oil lamp flickered, distorting the golden light. A melodious chime from the clock on the fireplace mantle announced the hour. Angelica flexed her toes. Her feet felt like ice, and the feeling seemed to be travelling slowly up her legs. She pulled the blankets more firmly around her entire body, cocooning herself.
The flame from her oil lamp flickered again, then guttered as if struggling to stay lit.
“No, no, no,” Angelica muttered. She had to finish the story. She had to know what had happened to Marino and how there could possibly be two Idas.
Ignoring the chill which had now seeped into her fingers, she strained her eyes to see the black print. Until the flame gave one last burst of light and died.
The room transformed into a collection of gray and dark purple tones. With a sigh of frustration, Angelica climbed from her bed and hugged her arms around her body. Padding across the floor, she approached the connecting door, intending to listen for her mother’s presence. If she was still up, Angelica could simply read the rest of the story in her room.
But as she passed the window, a breeze swept over her ankles.
Angelica turned to see the curtains move ever so gently, perhaps on account of a draft? She decided to check by carefully pulling the fabric aside and running her fingers along the edge of the window. Nothing. Only darkness. The glass itself was streaked by water, distorting her reflection.
A prickly sensation spread like a rash across the nape of her neck.
Something moved in the window’s reflection – a shadow behind her.
She instinctively turned.
Her breath filled the air like smoke and her fingers grew rigid like twigs. Swallowing hard, Angelica stared at her bedchamber door, certain she’d locked it. Yet now it stood open.
She blinked. Someone had been in her room while she’d been standing here lost in thought. Mrs. Essex perhaps, or the viscount himself? Angelica crossed the floor in search of an answer and reached the hallway just in time to glimpse the fluttering hem of nightgown as it disappeared round a corner.
Barefoot, she ran toward it, desperate to chase down the person and give them a piece of her mind. But when she reached the stairs, there was nothing. Heart pounding and with her bones aching from cold, she glanced down into the foyer.
A shadow crept slowly across the wall.
How had the individual managed to descend the stairs so quickly?
Determined to catch the elusive person, Angelica balled her frozen hands into fists and quickened her pace. If only she’d thought to put on her robe and slippers to ward off the ever-increasing frigidity.
By the time she reached the foyer, she was trembling from head to toe.
She glanced around. The chill had dug its claws into her chest. She struggled for breath. A movement, right at the edge of her vision, caused her to turn.
A hallway was there.
Angelica started forward. “Wait,” she called out, even though the person was clearly intent on escape. A whisper of air fluttered over her shoulders. She glanced back, certain she’d see someone there, but all she found was empty darkness.
“It’s all right,” she whispered to herself. “Nothing to be afraid of.” Yet there was a feeling, right in the middle of her heart, that told her something wasn’t quite right.
Ignoring it, Angelica kept going, following the shadow through twists and turns until she arrived at a tall wooden door.
She blinked.
The space was empty.
She glanced around, searching for someone who’d hidden in the darkness. Nothing caught her attention. Not one single movement. And then she heard it – a hoarse cry for help, so thin and desperate it curdled her blood. She stared at the door. The sound was coming from the opposite side, accompanied by…
Angelica’s heart thumped.
It sounded like scratching.
With a shudder, she took a step forward.
Someone was there. Someone who needed her help.
She reached for the bolt with frozen fingers and unlocked the door. It flew open, yanked from her grasp on a blast of cold air as wind and rain whipped her face. Angelica searched