by Candace Camp
“That I am in trouble?” Anna asked, still staring at him.
“Yes.” He turned to face her, his face set as if he were facing a firing squad.
“You dreamed this before you came to Winterset?”
He grimaced, his gaze flickering away from her. “Yes. It is why I even thought to come here. I did not know what was wrong. I could not write such gibberish to you. All I could think was to come here and see what was the matter.”
Anna’s heart warmed inside her chest. Despite the way she had hurt him, despite what he had said yesterday, when he had thought she was in danger, he had ridden to help her. Tears threatened to flood her eyes, and she glanced away to hide them.
“I am sure you are now convinced that I am mad,” Reed added, his voice rough. “No one but a fool would believe in dream portents. But I cannot help but believe it is true. I felt it so strongly. I cannot tell you why I was so sure, I can only say that I knew—without a doubt. There are things that cannot be explained away rationally. I have seen things, learned things, in the past few years that defy logic.”
“I do not think you are mad,” Anna said, looking up at him seriously.
“What?” He looked surprised, his brows rising slightly. “Then you believe that I was right?”
“I believe that you felt it. That you believe it. As to whether or not it is true—I do not know. I don’t know if I believe that dreams and…and visions are the truth. I do not know of any trouble that I am in. But the other day…” She hesitated. She had never told anyone about the “visions” that she had experienced all her life. Even after what Reed had told her, she felt a flutter of fear in her chest at the thought of exposing her oddity to him.
Finally she said, “The day when I met your brothers, when I was walking through the woods, I was suddenly struck by a—a feeling I can hardly describe. A feeling of pain and fear so sharp it made me nearly sick. And I was cold, so cold…. In my mind I saw the place where I was, but at night, and I felt this pain.”
“My God, Anna.” Instinctively Reed reached out and took her hand. “What was it?”
She shook her head, her fingers curling around his. “I do not know. There was nothing there, and in a moment it passed. I did not know what it meant. But that evening, when I heard that Estelle was missing, I thought of that moment in the woods, of what I had felt, and somehow I—I connected it with her.” Anna paused, collecting her thoughts, and looked down, realizing suddenly that Reed was holding her hand.
Hastily she let go of his hand, a blush starting on her cheeks. Reed glanced at her but said nothing about her gesture.
“I have no reason for thinking so,” she went on a little stiffly. “Her body was found somewhere far from there. The time when I felt it was not when she was found, and I doubt that it was when she was killed, either. I would think that happened the night before, when she went missing. I suppose, if the feeling actually meant anything, it was perhaps connected to that dog the twins found and what happened to him. But it was because of my ‘feeling’ in the woods that I had the servants look for her, that I could not quite believe she had simply left with a man.”
“And you were right.”
“I suppose. I did not know that that was what my…vision meant. I still do not. But I—I could not ignore it, either. As you said, I felt it meant something.”
Reed frowned. “I have no idea what either of our ‘omens’ means, but it worries me.”
Anna attempted a little laugh. “Yes, it rather concerns me, as well. I can tell you I would prefer not to feel that sensation again.”
“I, too, would rather you did not suffer it,” Reed agreed. He caught himself, then said, “I would not want anyone to feel it. But more than that, I am concerned about what will happen if this thing you felt, what I dreamed, are actually presaging something worse to come—something that will involve you.”
“Stop. You will frighten me.”
“I would like to,” Reed told her. “I want you to take a care for yourself.”
“I will. You need not worry about me.”
Reed looked as if he would like to say something else, but he merely sighed and glanced back to where his sister sat waiting for them in her carriage. “And, please, I beg you, do not let Kyria lead you into doing anything rash.”
Anna chuckled. “What an unkind thing to say about your own flesh and blood.”
“I say it because I know her,” he retorted, but he smiled. He turned back toward the vehicle, offering Anna his arm. She hesitated for a moment, then slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. It felt very comfortable, very natural, to walk with him this way. Indeed, she thought, it felt almost too good. She reminded herself that she must keep her guard up with Reed.
As they walked back to the carriage, Reed said, “I know that we have exchanged some harsh words. And the past makes it difficult. But I would like, if I could, to be a friend to you. I do not mean to try to rekindle what we—what I thought we once had. But I have been thinking about not selling the house and instead living here at least part of the year. I would like for the situation not to be…awkward.”
“I—I see.” So he was going to stay! Anna felt a little breathless at the thought.
“Can we put the past aside and agree to be—well, not friends, perhaps, but at least good acquaintances? People who are able to meet on occasion and to speak without drawing swords?”
“I do not wish to fight with you,” Anna replied carefully. She did not think it was possible for her to forget her past with Reed. Nor was she sure that she could be around him with any degree of equanimity. But she could scarcely explain to him that his presence made everything inside her start to tingle. “I would hope that we can be civil.”
“Good. I am glad to hear you say that.” They had by this time reached the carriage, and Reed extended his hand to help Anna up into it. He smiled up at his sister and Anna. “Now, if you ladies would allow me, I should be happy to escort you home.”
Reed was, Anna admitted, the perfect picture of the casual acquaintance as he rode beside them to her house. He talked to her and Kyria equally, his manner friendly but somewhat distant when he spoke to her. And she found it frankly irritating. She could not help but wonder how he found it so easy to act as if they had only recently met, as if nothing had ever passed between them, when she found herself tongue-tied and awkward. It was enough to make her wonder if only she had felt the surge of passion when they kissed the other night. Perhaps it was nothing but her own lack of experience that had made the moment seem so important, while Reed—more experienced—had merely found it a bit of passing pleasure.
The idea left her feeling perversely disgruntled when she arrived home. It was for that reason, perhaps, that her voice was sharper than she intended when she ran into her brother on the way up the stairs and he told her that he had just come back from riding.
“You went riding with Miss Farrington?” she asked.
Kit glanced at her, his eyebrow lifting. “Yes. Why?”
Anna sighed. “Kit…you paid a call on her yesterday, then there was the party, and now you go riding?”
His jaw tightened. “Yes. What of it? Are you keeping an account of my coming and goings?”
“No, of course not. But it scarcely seems wise—”
“Wise? No, perhaps it is not wise. I am not sure that I can be eternally wise. Mayhap you can always put your head above your heart, but I cannot!”
“Kit! Are you saying—are your feelings engaged?” Anna’s hand went unconsciously to her stomach, where a feeling of dread was coiling. “Are you coming to care her?”
He glanced around. “This is scarcely the time or place to discuss this.”
He started down the stairs, and Anna turned and followed him. In the hall below, she took his arm and steered him into the drawing room, closing the door behind them.
“All right,” she said, facing him. “Let us discuss it now. Are you…falling in love with Miss Farrington?”
“No, of course it is not too much.” Anna’s heart went out to her brother, and she took a step toward him, her face filled with sympathy. “It is exactly what you should have.”
“Yet it is exactly what I cannot have,” Kit snapped, and whirled away. “Don’t you think I know that it is impossible?”
“Oh, Kit…” Anna felt tears start in her eyes. “I am sorry. I should not have questioned you. I don’t mean to be overbearing. I am not your watchdog. It is just—I hate to see you get your heart broken,” she finished, her voice dropping almost to a whisper.
“Like yours was?” Kit asked, turning back to her.
Anna froze. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Come now, Anna. I am not a fool. It is pointless to try to pretend with me. I have known you for twenty-four years, you know. I may not have been here when it happened, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t figured it out. I saw the two of you dancing together the other night, and I also saw how you avoided him the rest of the evening.”
Anna could think of nothing to say. She sat down on a chair, suddenly weary.
“Don’t you ever just want to forget it all?” Kit asked, his voice filled with emotion. “Don’t you want to say, ‘The devil with my duty’ and just grab for your own happiness? God knows, I do.”
“We cannot,” Anna said. “You know we cannot.”
“No, I don’t know!” Kit flashed back. “I don’t want to live this way forever. Do you? Are you satisfied with half a life?”
“Of course not!” Anna retorted. “Of course I want more. That doesn’t mean that I can have it.”
“But you can!”
“Yes, if I ignore what is right! If I think only of myself!” Anna jumped to her feet, facing her brother. “I know that is not your way any more than it is mine.”
“But what is life worth if one can never know love and happiness?” Kit shot back. “What is the point?”
“There are also honor and duty!” Anna exclaimed. “There is the satisfaction of doing what one knows is right.”
“And is that really enough?”
“Sometimes it has to be,” Anna told him, her voice tinged with sorrow.
“I don’t know if it is for me,” Kit said, then turned on his heel and stalked out the door.
* * *
The young man walked across the footbridge, his hands in his pockets. He was whistling. He was eighteen years old, and it had been a good evening. He had spent it in the tavern, laughing and talking with his cronies, and the girl who brought him his drinks had smiled at him with what he definitely thought was an invitation in her eyes. Maybe next time he would stay until closing, and he would talk to her afterward, offer to walk her home….
But tonight he had to get home. It was summer, and tomorrow would be a full day in the fields. Pops would have his hide if he stayed out to the wee hours and came home with a snootful. He didn’t care about the drinking, of course; it was his shirking at work the next day because his head ached and his eyes felt as swollen and red as tomatoes.
He staggered a little as he stepped off the footbridge, and he had to grab for the rail. He snickered at his tipsy state, thinking that perhaps he hadn’t left early enough.
Picking up his tune again, he walked into the stand of trees beyond the footbridge. As he entered the trees, he heard a sound and turned, looking behind him. He could see nothing in the darkness, made deeper by the trees now spreading above him. The moon was no longer full, as it had been the other night, when Estelle Akins had met her death.
A little shiver ran through him as he thought about her. He didn’t know her, but it seemed a shame that anyone had to die like that. He’d heard it had been the Beast, back again after all these years, thirsty for blood.
Of course, he told himself, he wasn’t in any danger, not a healthy, strapping farm lad. He could take care of himself. Still…he would be glad when he got through the trees and reached the edge of his father’s farm on the other side. It wouldn’t be long. It wasn’t as if these were the deep woods.
There was a snap behind, and he started to whirl around just as something slammed into him from behind, knocking him to the ground. His fall knocked the breath out of him, and it was a struggle even to draw air. Something hard rapped against his skull, and pain exploded in his head.
CHAPTER NINE
Anna walked briskly along the path, Con and Alex Moreland on either side of her. She had driven over to Winterset this morning in the trap, but it was far easier and less roundabout to walk to Nick Perkins’ cottage than it was to drive a vehicle, so she and the boys had set out on foot from their house.
They were full of questions, as they always were, asking about this plant or that, and regaling her with stories of the plants and animals that their brother Theo had seen in his travels.
“Do you think that Perkins will let us bring the dog home with us today?” Alex asked as they drew near the footbridge over the stream.
“We’d take very good care of it,” Con added. “We could change his bandages and put on ointment and everything.”
“I don’t know.” Anna smiled at them. “I suppose it will depend on how well the dog is doing. He may not be well enough to be moved, you know.”
They reached the footbridge, and the boys stopped to look over the sides at the stream below it. Anna dawdled a little bit, too, gazing down at the clear water tumbling over the stones. As she reached the end of the footbridge and stepped off, she felt faintly uneasy. She glanced around, not sure why she felt that way. The feeling grew as she took a few more steps, and she paused, her hand going to her stomach.
“Miss Holcomb?”
“Are you all right?”
The twins’ voices came to her as if from a distance, and there was an odd buzzing in her head. She was afraid she was about to faint, and she started toward a large rock just off the path ahead, under one of the trees. But before she could reach it, a wave of pain and fear slammed into her, and she stopped, almost doubling over.
“Miss!” The boys were beside her in an instant, taking her arms and guiding her over to the rock.
In her head it was night, and she could see the rock, paler than the dark around it. She could see the trees and hear the rustle of their leaves. Her mind was muddled except for the fierce welling of panic in her chest. And suddenly the ground was coming up at her, and she was falling, and then there was a burst of terror inside her.
“The Beast,” she murmured.
“What?” Con bent closer to her. “What did you say?”
Anna raised her head. The “vision” was gone, and the pain was receding, leaving her sick and shaken.
“Are you all right? Are you ill?” Alex, too, leaned down to look in her face. “One of us can go back to the house and get Reed or Rafe to take you back to Winterset.”
“I—just give me a moment. I’ll be all right, I think.”
“Are you sure?” Alex straightened and looked around him. Suddenly he stiffened, and he made a strangled noise.
Con and Anna turned toward him and saw him staring ahead. They followed his eyes and saw a man lying just to the side of the path. Anna drew in her breath sharply, her hand flying to her mouth. Con and Alex started forward, and Anna let out a sharp cry.
“Wait! No, I don’t think you should—” she began, but the boys were already gone.
She jumped up and hurried after them. They stopped abruptly beside the body, and Anna almost stumbled into them. For a long moment all three of them stared at the body of the man lying before them. He lay on his back, his arms and legs splayed. He was young, barely a man, and his bright blond hair spread like a fan around his head. His eyes were open and staring lifelessly up at the leaves above him. His shirt was torn across the front and arms, revealing long scratches.
There was blood
everywhere—his hair, the raw, gaping wound of his throat, spilling all over his chest and arms and onto the ground around him. It was dark and sticky, pooled in some places, and the stench of it was everywhere, filling the air.
Anna stumbled back, pressing her hand tightly to her mouth. Con and Alex turned toward her, their eyes huge in their white faces. They stared at her for a moment; then suddenly Alex turned and ran a few steps away, falling to his knees and retching. Con came over to where Anna stood and sat down abruptly on the path, pulling his knees up and bracing his elbows on them, and dropping his head to his hands.
Anna swallowed hard, willing herself not to give in to the nausea that washed over her. She had to be strong, she told herself. She had to take care of the twins. But her legs were trembling so much, she thought it was a wonder she was even able to stand up.
She leaned over Con. “Let’s go back to that rock. All right?”
He nodded, and she gave him a hand to help pull him up. They went over first to Alex, who had stood back up and wiped his mouth. He looked at Anna shamefacedly.
“I’m sorry, miss.”
“Nonsense. I feel the same way myself,” Anna assured him, putting a hand on each boy’s shoulder. “Let’s sit down for a moment and collect ourselves.”
They walked back to the rock and sat down, the boys dropping onto the ground at Anna’s feet. They were silent, their eyes turning back now and again to the body that lay a few yards from them.
“What happened to him?” Alex asked at last.
“I don’t know,” Anna said.
“The Beast. That’s what all the servants are saying killed that girl,” Con said.
“That’s just a story,” Alex said scornfully, but his mouth trembled a little as he looked back at the body.
“It certainly looked as if an animal attacked him,” Anna admitted. “But my suspicion is that it was a person.”
“The same man who killed the girl?” Con asked.
“It seems likely.”
“We had better tell Reed,” Alex said, looking up at her.
