Page 67 of Watch For Me By Candlelight

‘But what if you think she’s the right one and she’s not?’ Kate asked.

‘Some things are just meant to be. Sometimes they come at you when you least expect it.’

Kate paused under the pretext of taking her shoe off and shaking a stone out of it, but it was more so she could dip her head and he wouldn’t see how red she was going. ‘But what if it was meant to be years ago and wasn’t?’ That was worded, she thought, quite well. She could technically be talking about his own recent past — not their potentially combined past. She hadn’t told Theo about Will and the steamer ship. Putting it into words made it real somehow.

‘It’ll happen if it’s meant to happen, no matter when it happens. Are you okay there? Do you need a hand? You’re wobbling.’

Kate stood up and shook her head. The world shook with it. ‘I’m fine.’ Her shoe was still dangling from her fingertips. She bent down and pulled the other one off as well. ‘My feet are hot. Look — we’re right next to the stepping stones anyway. If you go across there, you can head up to the Hall and through the woods and get to the fence. Whoops. I may have just admitted my secret way into the Hall grounds.’

Theo laughed. ‘Do you fancy a walk in the woods then? I suggest you put your shoes back on if that’s the case.’

‘No. Because the highwayman might be in there.’ She stared into the greenery over the river. ‘And you need to get to the van which is on this side of the river. Look. This is the best way to cross the River Hartsford. I don’t show everyone this, you know.’

She tossed her shoes to the ground, followed by her bag and took a run at the stepping stones. She was a toned, classically-trained ballet dancer and she could still do a perfect grand jeté.

Chapter Twenty-Three

‘Kate!’ Theo yelled her name as she streaked across the field and launched herself into a fairly impressive leap.

It was almost as if she did the splits in the air and for a moment she was flying, her arms outstretched, her bare toes pointed and her head gracefully tilted backwards.

It was bloody impressive, actually.

It was bloody impressive until she came down on a stepping stone, her foot slipped off it and she tumbled into the river.

It seemed as if everything happened in slow motion after that. He ran onto the stones, jumping across them and grabbed hold of her arm, tugging her inelegantly out of the water. She didn’t struggle, which was probably the most worrying thing; she was just floppy and unresponsive and his heart was pounding. ‘For God’s sake, Cat,’ he heard himself say, ‘what the hell were you doing?’ He didn’t even know where the ‘Cat’ thing came from again; it was as if someone else had shouted it.

Theo scooped her up and held her close and picked his way back across the stepping stones until they were safely on the bank. He adjusted her weight so she was snuggled into him and held her close, trying to get some warmth back into her body—

Her foot was twisted at an unnatural angle and she had a deep cut on her forehead. He prayed it wouldn’t scar — she was too beautiful to be scarred like that. She was too wild and adventurous, too perfect for this world she lived in, but she couldn’t leave the world like this — she couldn’t.

‘I’ll get you to the cottage,’ he told her, ‘I’ll look after you. Only please wake up, please wake up. I can’t bear it if—’

A bark from his feet, his dog running in mad circles in the snow.

‘I know, I know. We’ll get her warmed up. She’ll be well in no time. No time at all.’

His heart pounded and his breath came in little puffs of air as he hurried back to the cottages—

He had to believe that all would be well or else . . .

* * *

They were in Millie’s bedroom, Hector sprawled out on her bed where he knew he shouldn’t be. The leaves were turning gold and red outside and the fire was lit. They were occupied with pasting pictures and keepsakes into a scrapbook, their heads bent together as they decided what should go where.

‘This invitation should be with this pressed flower.’ Millie pointed to a faded rosebud and a gold-foiled card. ‘I kept them together entirely for that purpose.’ She picked up the card and read it. She smiled and laid it back down next to the flower.

‘It’s a special one, then,’ Kate teased.

Millie blushed, her already flushed cheeks turning redder. To be brutally honest, when Kate took a good look at her, she didn’t seem at all well.

‘You’re very pale, darling,’ she said and laid her hand across Millie’s forehead. Oddly, she seemed feverish, despite her washed out appearance; and her hands were so thin, the veins stood out in stark relief.

‘Oh, I’m all right,’ Millie dismissed Kate’s concern with a wave of her hand. ‘I just can’t get rid of this horrible old cold.’ As if to prove it, she hacked out a nasty sounding cough. She wasn’t quick enough to hide her lace-edged handkerchief. There were spots of red on it.

Oh, no. Kate knew something of these symptoms. Consumption. Tuberculosis. The White Plague. Whichever way you looked at it, this thing was a killer in 1885.

First Will, now Millie. How many other people was Cat going to lose so horribly? Kate couldn’t let Millie know she knew. She cast a glance at the clock. It had just passed six in the evening, the twilight creeping in on them.