“Did it work?”
“Sometimes.”
Laurie considered this.
“I was too hot,” she said at last. “When I went to sleep. I asked me nurse to open the window, but she said that the night air has bad vapors in it. Is that true?”
Nora pursed her lips. “Nay, that’s an old wives’ tale. I go out in the night all the time, and so does yer brother. Night air is just a wee bit colder, that’s all.”
Laurie nodded, seemingly satisfied with that explanation. “I dreamed about Ma. Ma’s dead, ye ken.”
“Aye, I ken that. And yer da, too.”
The little girl pulled a face. “I didnae like Da. He was always shoutin’, always angry at somebody. He wasalwaysangry at Crey.”
“I can imagine that,” Nora muttered.
“But they’re gone now. I liked Ma, though. She would put me on her knee and tell me stories. I miss her, sometimes.”
“I’m sorry, pet.”
Laurie shrugged. “Crey says I’ll forget them when I grow up. I daenae want to forget them.”
“I think yer brother only tells ye that because he thinks it will give ye comfort. I think it giveshimcomfort. So, daenae worry. It’s up to ye whether ye keep somebody in yer head and heart when ye get older. Ye daenae have to forget yer parents, nae if ye daenae want to.”
“Ma,” Laurie corrected firmly. “I daenae want to forgetMa.” Already, her eyelids were fluttering, growing heavier. In a few moments, she’d be sound asleep. “And I willnae forgetye, either,” Laurie added, her eyes closing entirely. “Nae even if ye do want me to.”
Before Nora could respond, the little girl’s head lolled on the pillow, and that was that. She was asleep. Nora lay still for a moment, watching her breathe quietly.
She’s so much like Margaret at that age.
A strand of hair stuck to the sweat on Laurie’s forehead. Frowning, Nora reached forward, pushing it back. The little girl shifted in her sleep, but did not stir.
I’ll have to explain this in the morning to Creighton, nay doubt,Nora thought tiredly, closing her own eyes.But that’s a problem for tomorrow.
This time, when she fell asleep, she didn’t dream.
“It’s as I thought. She’s in here!”
Nora was jolted awake for the second time that night. Ripped from a deep sleep, she let out a disoriented gurgle, flailing at nothing in particular. The sheets felt damp and tangled around her limbs. Blinking, she came to the slow realization that there were candles in her room, too many candles, burning her eyes.
A figure leaned over her, and her eyes adjusted sharply.
Black hair, dark eyes, heavy, low brows. A sense of annoyance.
“Creighton,” she managed hoarsely. “What time is it? And what are ye doing in me room?”
There were more people behind him. She recognized Theo, the man who was called Dallas, and Andrew, of course, fingering his cross. A middle-aged woman in gray stood there too, quietly dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief.
“It’s four o’clock in the morning,” Creighton responded tightly, leaning back. “Laurie’s nurse awoke to find her missin’. We’ve had half the Keep up in a panic before it occurred to me that she might behere.”
Nora swallowed, a twinge of guilt smarting in the back of her mind. Clearing her throat, she pushed herself up into a sitting position and reached out to the tangle of blankets beside her.
“Here she is,” she mumbled, and tugged back the blankets.
Laurie did not stir. She was curled into a ball, her back facing Nora, her face turned toward the wall.
“She had a bad dream,” Nora managed, clearing her throat. “I just let her come into bed with me. Me sister did it all the time.”
