“Is someone there?”
No answer.
She waited a moment, then tried again, louder this time. “Who is there?”
Again, there was no response. She reached out slowly and pushed open the door.
Indeed, someone was inside there. There was a candle lit and placed neatly on one of the tables, though the chair remained empty. Whoever was there a moment ago had suddenly made themselves scarce.
“If this is someone’s idea of a jest, I do hope it ends quickly,” she said out loud.
The sound of a book falling to the floor caught her attention, and startled her at the same time. It had come from behind one of the taller bookshelves. Her eyes darted toward the shadowed aisle.
“What is the use in hiding?” she asked again, “I can clearly see someone else is here.”
It was scary to venture into the library at an hour that was this late. She did not know what would find her, but then again, she had to remind herself that she was a married woman now.
What sort of married woman found herself scared of ghosts? She was no longer a child. So with hesitant steps forward, she made her way over. If anything, this should provide the much needed distraction she wanted . Not something to be scared of.
“Show yourself,” she said again. “I do not mean any harm.”
A small yelp followed her statement, and from behind one of the shelves, a slim figure stumbled into view.
Penelope blinked, surprised.
“Odette?”
The girl stood frozen, a candle wobbling in her hand and wide eyes fixed on Penelope.
“I—” Odette straightened quickly, trying to hide the fact that she had been so frightened just a moment ago. Her speech was coming out in quick spurts, as though she had been caught doing something entirely wrong. “I just came to read. I wasn’t doing anything terrible.”
“I didn’t say you were,” Penelope said slowly, surprised by how defensive the young one was being. It was quite the shift from her usual confident and unruly self.
“Then why did you yell?” Odette huffed, narrowing her eyes.
“I called out,” Penelope corrected gently, eyeing the young girl with curiosity. “Twice. You didn’t answer.”
“I didn’t hear,” Odette said, though it was blatant that she was lying. “Besides, you sounded like the ghost of some deranged maid.”
Penelope’s mouth twisted upwards into an expression of amusement.
“You don’t need to be so scared of me,” she said . “Nor did I mean to disrupt your midnight adventure.”
“Well, you did,” Odette muttered under her breath and turned sharply as if intending to flee, but as she did, Penelope noticed the book on the floor.
“Wait—” Penelope stooped to pick it up.
“No!” Odette exclaimed, lunging forward to get to it.
But she was not fast enough. Penelope had already caught sight of the title. A faint smile curled across her lips.
“A Scandal in Springtime,” she read aloud, her brow arching. “Is that why you are behaving so oddly?”
Well, even more odd than she usually did. Which was truly saying something.
“It is nothing,” the young girl tried to cover, blushing now.
“I must say, I didn’t take you for the romantic sort,” Penelope noted. Was she embarrassed of her reading choices?
