Hearing the other’s hesitation, Severin asked, “Is there a problem?”
“Not sure as yet,” Sheridan muttered as he rose. “I’ll be looking in on me Fancy now.”
Not liking the feeling in his gut, Severin got to his feet. “Allow me to join you and pay my respects to Miss Sheridan.”
7
Run,a voice whispered in her head.Run…but you can’t hide from me.
Fancy’s lungs burned, her muscles straining as she dashed through the forest of darkness. She had to get away. She ran into a barrier, the impact jarring her. She swept her hands desperately over the surface, trying to find a way out…
“Fancy, dear, wake up.”
She opened her eyes. Heart hammering, she saw with confusion that she was standing at a door, her hand rattling the knob. Bea was beside her.
“You were sleepwalking,” Bea said in low, soothing tones. “It was a bad dream.”
The memory of the attack pounced, smothering Fancy in terror. Panic clawed at her insides, whispering in her ear,Run. Hide.
“You’re safe,” Bea murmured. “It’s over now. Let’s get you back into bed.”
Numbly, Fancy let her friend guide her. She climbed into bed, and as Bea wiped her cheeks with a handkerchief, she felt wetness on her skin. Had she been crying? She tried to take calming breaths, waiting for the fear to subside. For the quaking to leave her limbs.
Bea ran a hand through her white-gold hair, which fell loosely over her voluminous lawn nightgown. She had stayed with Fancy these past two nights, sleeping in a cot set up nearby. Fancy had a lifelong habit of sleepwalking, especially during times of turmoil. When she was a girl, her ma had had to keep an eye out for her nighttime travels. Her best friend knew this and had kept a faithful vigil over her.
“Thank you.” She wetted her dry lips, blinking in the dim light. “What time is it?”
“Nearly dawn.” Bea propped some pillows behind her, lifting a glass to her lips. “Take some water, dear. Drink slowly.”
Fancy took cautious sips. The cool liquid soothed the parched tissues of her throat. Gradually, the tide of panic began to recede.
“I feel better,” she said.
“I’m glad, but you mustn’t rush things.” Bea set down the glass, sitting in the chair beside the bed. “You’ve been through an ordeal.”
Seeing the tired circles beneath her friend’s eyes, Fancy said softly, “So ’ave you. You don’t ’ave to stay with me. I’m fine now.”
“You are not fine, my dear. No one would be after what you endured.” Bea’s voice had an uncharacteristic wobble. “I’m so sorry, Fancy.”
Bea had been apologizing since yesterday, when Fancy had surfaced from the dose of laudanum the physician had given her. Fancy’s brother Godfrey had been weighed down by guilt as well, although she’d done her best to reassure everyone that no one was at fault except for her attacker.
“It ain’t your fault some bastard conked me on the ’ead.” Fancy tried to make her words light, to chase away the shadows in her chum’s lavender gaze. “Serves me right for walking ’ome by myself.”
The wooded path flashed in her mind’s eye. Her throat clenched.
Will the open road e’er feel safe again?
“If it isn’t my fault, then it is mostdefinitelynot yours.” Bea’s gaze shifted to her left temple. “How’s your head?”
Gingerly, Fancy touched the bump. The swelling had gone down, leaving in its wake a tender ache. “Better. I no longer feel dizzy.”
“Do you think you could sleep some more?”
Thinking of the shadows that awaited in her dreams, she shook her head.
“Me neither.” Bea gave her an assessing look. “Do you feel up to talking?”
Fancy nodded. “About what?”
