She was movingquickly through a passageway between ancient, tangled branches.
Quickly, but not quickly enough. Was she chasing someone or was she being chased? She could not quite remember. But there were ravens. Ravens all around. Ravens with jet-bead eyes. Except one. One with a cruel, green, hawk-like gaze predatorially focused on her.
She sucked in a breath and turned away.
That couldn’t be right.
Ravens were scavengers, weren’t they? And she’d never seen one with eyes of green. But he was coming for her. She heard a great flapping of wings not too far behind.
Where was he? Where was Neville? He was supposed to be here, but—
Millie jerked up in her bed, waking into darkness with a start. Her heart beat hard, as if she’d been running through that barren maze for real.
She had no idea how much time had passed since Cassie left. She listened, but the house was now silent. Somewhere below, Neville had set himself up to keep watch.
She knew he would not go back on his word, and yet she couldn’t shake the fear. After all, in her nightmare, she hadn’t been able to find him in the maze.
She scowled into the darkness.
A dream, dunderhead. Only a dream. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that she needed Neville. She needed him desperately andnow.
Dare she go down? The hollow feeling she’d felt when her dream-self couldn’t find him had left her with an ache, but Neville would be shocked by her late-night appearance.
She balled her hands in the coverlet. The only thing she knew for certain—she was scared. Scared to give her life into his keeping. And equally scared to permanently part. The thought of living the rest of her life without him left her empty, and the emptiness outweighed her fear.
Perhaps Cassie had been right.
Perhaps a discussion in the dead of night, a time when sentiment ruled, was just the thing.
Yes.She would go down.
She would lure him if she must—not in the way he’d accused her of luring him into the maze, but she would lure him into telling her the truth.
She rose from the bed, feeling her way through the darkness to the peg. She stuffed her arms into the sleeves as best she could without light and then, slowly and quietly, opened her door. The plush carpet sank softly beneath her bare toes as she placed one careful step in front of the other, each time pausing to make sure a creak did not follow.
Tedious thing, descending the stairs. She kept her body close to the railing, both because that was where the steps were least likely to moan and because the darkness was almost complete. The only faint glow came from the library.
He must be there, just as he’d told her he would be.
Would he welcome her presence? Or would he subject her to a scold?
Uncertainty made jelly of her legs at the same time anticipation set a horsewhip to her heart—the organ was galloping so hard in her chest, her heartbeat alone could wake the whole house. Silently, she approached the open door and peered within.
She needn’t have worried.
The lamps were still burning, but Neville was in no condition to scold. His head lolled to the side, with lips slightly parted. Thestarched, clean clothes he’d changed into were now endearingly rumpled. He looked so peaceful, so sweet.
He’d had a long, hard night as well.
She entered the library and then shut the door. She had half-expected him to bound up, reach over her head, and prevent the latch from taking, but his breath remained steady even as the metal clicked into place.
Unfair, that she should receive such pleasure simply from studying him Why did he have to be so finely made?
Why didthisman have to attract her so?
Until Neville, the strongest, sturdiest man she’d ever known had been Willowhurst’s gamekeeper, with whom she’d also grown to feel safe.
When their father had been away from home, Mr. Winter tolerated frequent visits from her and Eliza, putting them to “work” on one invented task or another. However, the true solace he offered came during the infrequent times when her father was present.