Angelica’s eyes flew open. “Dear God.” She bolted out of bed, heedless of the cold swirling around her and the frost sinking into her bones. Her only thought was to tell Randolph what she had learned. It could not wait, it was far too urgent.
Yanking her bedchamber door wide open, she ran out into the hallway. A gust of frigid air followed, propelling her forward. The darkness thickened as she neared the stairs. She paused, giving her breath a chance to claw its way out of her lungs. A chill swept past her ankles, urging her back into motion, only she couldn’t quite see and…
A yellow glow slid toward her, pushing the shadows aside like a ship cutting through rough waves. “Lady Angelica?” A face emerged, and a syrupy smile. “Whatever are you doing here at this late hour?”
Angelica’s heart spasmed with petrified beats, yet she somehow managed to force a calm tone. “I couldn’t sleep. Walking tends to help.”
Mrs. Essex tilted her head. “You’re breathless.” She moved her candle and tried to peer past Angelica. “It seems you were being chased. By one of the grooms, perhaps?” The edge of her mouth curled. “They do tend to like Randolph’s women.”
A thousand thoughts forced their way to the front of Angelica’s mind, each trying to shove past the other in order to gain attention. She decided to focus, not on the familiarity with which Mrs. Essex referred to her master, or on her reference to Marcus, but on the fact that she must suspect Angelica of knowing.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Angelica tried, hoping to feign ignorance.
The other side of Mrs. Essex’s mouth curled. “Are you quite certain?” She narrowed her eyes and leaned a bit closer. “You’re shivering.” Her chuckle disturbed the air and then she suddenly swung the candle around, illuminating the top of the landing. “Did you do this? Well of course you did. You couldn’t just die and stay dead like a normal person, could you?”
Angelica’s stomach dropped and she slowly turned. Lady Sterling was there, but unlike the previous time when she’d seen her, her face was contorted into an expression so full of loathing, Angelica gasped.
Mrs. Essex just laughed. “She wishes she had the strength to kill me but—”
Lady Sterling rushed forward. Her arms stretched toward Mrs. Essex’s throat but rather than grab her she drifted straight through her on a cold winter breeze.
Mrs. Essex’s skirt swayed back and forth in response. She laughed once more. “Well, that was fun.”
Angelica stared at her. “What are you talking about?” If she could just make her doubt herself, maybe Angelica could stall for time, or at least make a plan.
“Don’t try to pretend you don’t know,” Mrs. Essex told her playfully.
“Know what?”
“That Lady Sterling is seeking justice.” She chuckled. “The poor woman was foolish enough to get herself locked outside in a winter storm dressed only her nightgown. Honestly, whatever did she expect to happen?”
“I have no idea,” Angelica whispered. She took a large step back, determined to add some distance. Behind Mrs. Essex, she could see Lady Sterling, looking both helpless and furious.
“In a way, your arrival here is something of a blessing. It doesn’t seem fair for her to be trapped here alone with only me for company since I do tend to ignore her.” Something distinctly unpleasant flickered behind Mrs. Essex’s eyes. “This isn’t how I imagined it would be, but now that you’re here, I suppose I’ll have to improvise. After all, Randolph will never accept his feelings for me if he’s always distracted by other women.”
“Dear God,” Angelica gasped. “You’re mad.”
Mrs. Essex moved like a cobra, so swift in the dark, Angelica didn’t have time to realize her goal before she noticed the flames. Panic engulfed her like never before as she blindly staggered about, patting her nightgown in desperate attempts to put out the fire. An instinctual cry for help worked its way up her throat, until something caught at her ankle. Twisting, she tried to regain her balance, only to find herself falling into…nothing at all.
A peel of amused laughter accompanied her into darkness.
Cold clamminess whispered across Randolph’s skin. “Help her.”
The words slid through his mind like morning mist creeping over the moors. Rolling onto his side, he pulled his blanket up and across his shoulders to ward off the chill, but the ice now pricking his toes would not be ignored. It moved up into his feet and his legs