The house was quiet when he returned. The babe asleep in the cradle, and Anne doing what she could to refresh the bed. Daniel set Bob down then took Anne outside as he tended to their nag.
“He won’t change. You need to think of yourself and your boys.”
“He was a good man once, my lord. He made that cradle himself. Carved it with his own hands.”
Daniel shook his head. “I don’t much care who he was. It’s who he is now that worries me. What of your kin? Have you no father or brother to take Bob’s work?”
He knew she did, but she would not acknowledge it. “Bob’s me husband and he’ll come round. He just needs a drying out—”
“And will he stay dry? If he doesn’t, then we’ll be right back here again. And you can’t count on me doing this again.” He was willing to help, but he had other responsibilities.
“You’ve been right kind, my lord.”
“Write to your kin, Anne. I’ll support you if you want to show Bob the door. He’s been nothing but a drain—”
“He’s my husband!” Outrage made Anne’s slender frame quiver with indignation. “I’m a god-fearing woman. I won’t throw away a good man—”
“What about a bad one?”
She pressed her lips together and lifted her chin. And who was he to blame her for sticking to her marriage vows? Just the man who was cleaning up the mess.
“Do you feel loved, honored, and cherished, Anne? That’s what he promised you at the church. He broke those vows first,” Daniel said. “So by my way of thinking, you’ve got every right to send him packing.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t think the vicar would agree with you there.”
No, the man definitely would not. But at least Vicar Trewin was easier to talk to than this illogical woman. “He’s the next person I mean to see,” he grumbled as he set out hay for their nag. Then his expression softened. “Get some rest, Annie. There’s a full day ahead, and I don’t doubt that you’ll be shouldering the worst of it.”
She dipped into a curtsey. “Thank you, my lord. You’ve been right kind.”
He had been, but his gut told him that it was work thrown to the wind. Bob would find a way to destroy it all. “Make sure Jory practices his letters. He needs to read and write if he means to do better than his father.”
“I will, my lord.”
He saddled his horse and headed out. He meant to go home then. Miss Lina likely had arrived and settled in by now. He needed to greet her. But he had told Anne that he would speak to the vicar next and though it had been an off-hand comment, he wouldn’t break his word.
So he headed away from his home to have a discussion with a stodgy man of faith. At least he’d get a good pint at the vicar’s home, though after tending to Bob, he decided he’d much rather have a meat pastie instead.
He looked at the rising moon and cursed under his breath. Mrs. Hocking had likely gone home by now which meant Miss Lina was wandering about his crumbling castle all alone. He really hoped she didn’t break her neck in the process.
Chapter Four
Li-Na woke witha start. She was in a foreign place and it was quiet enough to terrify. She thought for a moment she had died because of the silence that pressed in on her from all sides. Never in the last five years at the Lyon’s Den had it ever gotten quiet. Someone was always awake, and someone was always making noise.
But she wasn’t in the Lyon’s Den. She wasn’t even in London. And given the absolute, oppressive dark, Cornwall would be her tomb.
She tried to go back to sleep, but she couldn’t relax. She was used to working until nearly dawn. When she’d gone to bed after Mrs. Hocking left, she’d hoped to sleep through dawn. She’d certainly felt tired enough, but now, three hours later, she was wide awake and terrified.
Spirits walked in darkness this black. They manifested to her eye as strokes of ink that darted out, oozed around, or shivered at the corner of her eyes. Squiggles that lived outside the body to terrify the mind. They mixed with the sound of the wind blowing outside. It wasn’t enough to make anything howl, but she heard the low rush, trembled when something rattled or brushed against the wall, and did she hear scurrying feet? Rats? Insects? Spiders?
“Ignorance never makes life better.” She spoke Bessie’s words aloud to steady herself. Then she gathered her courage to get up and look around.
She rose from the bed and put her feet on the cold stone floor. She remembered that her room was large and sparse. Mrs. Hocking had said she had the “lady’s salon of the castle.” It held a bed, a wardrobe, and desk where the woman had set two candles. Then the housekeeper had bid her goodnight and left the grounds. Li-Na remembered it clearly because she’d heard the rickety cart rumble out of the keep. At the time, Li-Na had been grateful because she just wanted to lay flat on her back and rest. Now she wished the dour woman had remained close even if it was to scowl at her.
The first thing Li-Na did was to put on her shoes. She’d learned young that life was much safer with shoes on. She could kick better with shoes.
Next, she lit a candle and held it aloft. She always slept in a light dress rather than a nightrail. That had become her habit from very young, and so she was properly attired as she lifted the candlelight to chase away the darkness. It didn’t work except to create weird shadows that leaped everywhere she looked.
Squiggles and their shadows couldn’t harm her. Rats and people could. And since she saw none of either, she boldly grabbed the iron latch that fastened her door shut. The metal was cold, and she shivered as she gripped it. Then she threw the door open and thrust her candle against the dark.
