Ludovico sent me a knowing look. “Ah, yes. Annette has told me about Valancourt. Lady Morano and her brother have discussed him at length, and Annette can’t hold her tongue around me. Fair warning.”
I straightened. “I’ll have to be careful about what I say around the both of you then. I wish Lady Morano was as discreet. Apparently she holds Annette in high esteem if she talks so loosely about my love life around her.”
“Annette may speak plainly about these things to me, but I assure you that it goes no further. Lady Morano understands that she’s trustworthy, and Annette knows that I am as well.”
“Then I trust the judgment of my betters in this matter.”
Ludovico smirked. “How do you feel about being so far away from Valancourt now?”
With a sigh, I plopped onto my bed, smoothing my hands over the sheets distractedly. “Honestly, I’m not sure where this leaves us. I miss him already, quite terribly. He’s so warm and genuine, and when he gets excited about something, he’s so animated. You should have seen him on the way to the opera …” I shook my head. “But that could very well be a lost cause. I wish he was here, but he isn’t.”
“But Count Morano is here.”
“Count Moranoishere,” I agreed, looking up to meet Ludovico’s eyes. “And I like him very much as well, for different reasons. I think my time here would be better spent acquainting myself with him than pining for a man I have no hope of seeing for quite some time.”
“It’s okay to miss Valancourt though,” Ludovico offered. “He’ll still be there when you leave this place.”
I smiled thinly, an ache forming in my chest. “I hope you’re right.”
Ludovico took his leave after a while, and I was thankful that his presence had lifted my spirits, despite reminding me of my separation from Bram. I hoped Bram would wait for me, selfish as that was, but I also had to be realistic. He had seemed skeptical of a future between us the last time I’d spoken with him, after he’d discovered that I was a marquis. Maybe this was yet another sign that we weren’t meant to be together, even if the thought made me want to lay down and cry.
I locked the door after Ludovico. This one, at least, had a sturdy lock. Then I stared into the fire as I finished my meal, wishing I had more wine to get me through my first night. As I slipped beneath the cool sheets of the bed, I heard the wind howl through the castle, and I recalled Annette’s warnings of it being a haunted place.
“A place is just a place,” I told myself as I closed my eyes, exhausted. “And a place cannot hurt you.”
I wasn’t sure what woke me. A noise, perhaps, or a vague sense that I was in an unfamiliar place. Either way, I found myself bolt upright in bed, staring into the corners of the dark room, where the dying embers of the fire could no longer reach. It took me a moment to remember where I was, and then the knowledge did little to appease my mind.
I heard a howl outside and I pulled my sheets up to my eyes, wondering if the noise was the wind, as before, or actual wolves prowling the forest. The sound seemed altogether too real to be anything but the latter.
Glancing at the fire, I decided that I could throw another log or two on to chase some of the shadows from the room. Perhaps that small comfort would be enough to calm my racing thoughts and deter my imagination from running amok.
I crept across the room and set to work on the fire, making sure the new logs I’d added caught fire and would renew its strength. After fussing with a fire poker for some time, I stepped back and reveled in the warmth of the flames. My eyes drifted to the second door I’d noticed, and I frowned. I stared at it for a moment before approaching and touching the bolt. I could have sworn that I’d bolted it, yet it was now unlocked.
Feeling uneasy, I ventured to the main door to find it locked. I must not have bolted the second door. That was the only explanation. There were only the two doors, and if I’d locked both of them, no one could have gained access to my room in the night.
I heard something then, through the second door. A moaning. But no, it hadn’t come from the door, but from the walls themselves. I stepped back, my hair standing on end.
The wind. It had to have been the wind. There was some sort of gap in the wall, and when the wind blew through it, it sounded like moans. It happened in old houses all the time.
I swallowed hard, panic clawing at my chest, despite trying to reason my fears away. I’d been so tired that I could have easily thought about throwing the bolt without actually doing it. No one could have been in my room while I’d slept. And it had been the wind blowing through the castle that had awakened me.
True fear crept up my spine as I realized how far from the rest of the household I was in this unfamiliar castle. I felt myself sweating as paranoia set in. I knew that I couldn’t stay in that room for another moment.
I threw on a cloak and lit a candle before slinking out of the room, making sure to close the door firmly behind me. Once I was in the hallway, I stared around myself with unease. Everything was so still and dark. It was an eerie feeling, and I didn’t like it one bit. How could Montoni send me so far from the other rooms? It was cruel. I wasn’t sure if I could take it.
Steeling my nerves as best I could, I descended the staircase and followed the halls the way I remembered, back to the main sitting room. Thankfully, I hadn’t gotten turned around, but rather found myself in the exact place I’d meant to go.
“My lord?”
I started as a shadow fell across me, and I wheeled to find Annette staring me down, eyebrow raised.
“You scared me, Annette. Make some noise in the future.”
Annette snorted. “Couldn’t sleep either, could you, sir?”
“I slept a little.”
“More than me.” Annette shook her head. “To be back in this place … ugh. How I hate it here. It’s so depressing.” She squinted at me. “You haven’t seen any ghosts, have you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
