‘Nick,’ she called after him and he paused, turning back. ‘You be careful too, won’t you?’
CHAPTER 18
ALEX
There was someone in the room with her when Alex started to wake up again. Someone murmuring a lullaby. Autumnal sunlight was pouring like liquid gold through the gap in the curtains again and she could clearly hear a woman singing softly though she couldn’t make out the words. It was a tune she almost remembered but couldn’t place.
The events of last night rushed back to her and she sat up sharply. Too sharply, as it turned out. Pain slammed into the side of her head and her vision swam, the light too bright, the shadows too pronounced. Just for a moment.
A little girl was standing at the foot of the bed, holding a rag doll. Behind her stood a woman with the same long dark hair and blue eyes. Both of them stared back at Alex without saying a word, the woman glaring, the little girl curious, perhaps startled by the sudden awakening.
Alex flopped back down on the pillows and tried to stop her head pounding. When she looked again, only the little girl was still there. The woman, who must have been her mother from their shared features, had vanished.
‘You look sick,’ the child said in a solemn, serious voice. ‘I’ll fetch Granny. She’ll put you right.’
And then she was gone too. Alex could hear her voice ringing out through the hall. She was probably hanging over the bannisters, which had to be dangerous.
What was a child even doing here?
Wildewood Hall was no place for children. Wildewood Hall was no place for anyone.
Alex hauled herself up out of bed and padded to the door of her room. Sure enough, the girl was leaning precariously over the balustrade to call down into the hall below.
‘Hey, get back from there,’ Alex said, suddenly alarmed at what might happen. ‘You’ll fall.’
Startled, the child turned, staring at her. ‘No, I won’t. Not here. Anyway, you were the one who fell, not me.’
‘Maeve!’ Nick Walker’s voice barked from the foot of the stairs. ‘What are you doing up there?’
‘I was watching her to see if she was going to wake up. She woke up. Tell Granny.’
‘Get down here and tell her yourself. You aren’t meant to be up there, young lady, and you know it.’
And while he was clearly trying to be stern and commanding, there was a gentleness to his voice that Alex hadn’t heard before.
No, she had, she realised. She’d heard it last night. When he’d found her.
Chastened, the little girl pulled back from the abyss, and descended the stairs two at a time, hopping from one to the next. At the bottom turn she launched herself into the air and Nick had to dive forward to catch her. Which he did, effortlessly.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, laughing as he spun her to safety.
‘You’re so grumpy today, Daddy. But I’m glad you aren’t beardy anymore.’
Daddy, Alex thought with a groan. Ofcourse. She was the little girl in the photo. Nick set Maeve down carefully and sheran off. Then he looked up at Alex, where she leaned over the bannister to watch them.
And seeing him face-on shocked her. Underneath the once-overgrown facial hair was a face so chiselled and handsome it wouldn’t look out of place on one of the mock Grecian statues in the gardens outside, or in one of those beautiful portraits on the walls. Blaise Chambers had nothing on him.
All she could do was stare.
Something snagged her memory about the painting, something she’d meant to do. Hadn’t she taken it down? One glance over her shoulder told her it was back on the wall. Someone had hung it up again.
Then there was movement below and she turned back, forgetting about the painting again.
Nick made his way up to her in a rather more traditional manner than his daughter had descended. He seemed wary, as if expecting something else dramatic from her.
She didn’t blame him. Nick had found her at the foot of the stairs.
Just like he’d found his dead wife.
