Page 19

He cleared his throat. “So… do you remember what happened tonight? Before the carriage overturned?”

Her brows furrowed, the abrupt change in topic jarring enough to make her blink. She took a moment to gather her thoughts.

“No. I heard a noise outside… I looked through the window, but I couldn’t see anything—just darkness. And then… the carriage started to roll.”

“Do you know if anyone—”

Rap. Rap.

Mrs. Hill appeared on the threshold. “The room is ready for Lady Leila, Your Grace.”

“Oh, thank you.” Leila breathed a sigh of relief, no doubt looking forward to taking off her wet clothes and curling up in a dry bed.

Sarah’s bed…

Gideon pushed the thought aside. “Mrs. Hill, would you bring some dry clothes for the lady? And see that her current garments are washed and pressed for the morning?”

“Of course, Your Grace.” She curtsied and hurried off, presumably to gather what was needed.

Gideon turned and led Leila to the adjoining door. He opened it, gesturing for her to enter.

She hesitated, blinking in surprised stupor. Then slowly, understanding dawned on her.

Perhaps not full understanding—but enough to realize why he hadn’t wanted that particular chamber given to her.

It wasn’t just any guest room; it was the room allocated for the lady of the house. His wife.

She approached the room with a tentative, unsure step.

Gideon opened the door wider and stepped aside. “Go ahead. It’s your room for the night.”

She nodded once and slipped past him, and he followed, his gaze drifting across the space.

The four-poster bed stood in the center, draped in heavy curtains. A writing desk sat beneath the window, and across from it was a vanity table with a looking glass.

It should have felt warm and familiar, but it didn’t.

The room was cold. Empty. Soulless.

It was just as he remembered it to be, and nothing like it at the same time.

It would be, wouldn’t it? It had been shut for the last fifteen years.

Leila glanced between the bed and his face, her all-too-perceptive gaze no doubt seeing the pain in his eyes. Or perhaps she was simply waiting for him to leave.

And it was about time he did.

“Good night,” he said abruptly, already backing toward the door.

“Thank you, Your—”

He didn’t hear if she said anything beyond that. The door had closed behind him.

Chapter 3

Gideon stumbled through the thick smoke that wafted around him, biting into his eyes and coating his tongue with its acrid taste. Heat licked at his skin, burning, scalding, suffocating. Fire roared like a living creature, devouring everything in its path, the sound reminiscent of a wild beast.

“Sarah! Sarah!”