Marian sighed. She did not yet have the answer. The weight of the day pressed heavily against her thoughts, but her heart was not settled on leaving either.
I cannot just leave, not if this truly is my inheritance.
She studied the room quietly for a moment before answering Lilly, her gaze moving over the sturdy walls of the castle she’d hoped to someday call home. “Yes. Until the ownership dispute is settled, I must stay, and I will.”
She paused briefly, drawing a deep breath as her gaze drifted out the small window overlooking the dark hills beyond.
“I must understand this place.”
Mrs. Campbell glanced between them, a knowing look flickering briefly across her face. Though it was obvious that she had overheard, she did not say anything more as she finished preparing the room.
She gave the blanket one final fluff before stepping back.
“Rest well tonight,” she said, before heading toward the door. At the threshold, she paused long enough to look over her shoulder. “The Highlands have a way of testin’ newcomers.”
Marian woke before the morning light spilled in through the small window.
Since the passing of her father, she had rarely been able to sleep past the crack of dawn. It was around that time that her mother’s horrid scream had filled her head, and that sound had refused to leave her ever since, plaguing her every morning so she could never go back to sleep.
She stirred under the blanket, her body heavy with sleep and the lingering exhaustion from her travels over the past three weeks. She lay still for a moment, exhaling softly as she rubbed the back of her hand against her eyes.
The room was still dark, with only the pale light from the window casting a faint glow across the floor. She stretched slightly, feeling a weight resting across her legs.
Where am I?
She was suddenly aware of the strangeness of her room. For as long as she’d been conscious of her surroundings, she had only ever slept in her bedchamber at Whitcombe House.
She rubbed her eyes again, her thoughts settling as her brain tried to reconcile her current situation.
Glen Carrick.
She sighed softly once she remembered.
Her eyebrows knitted together in her half-asleep state, and she stretched again, this time testing the weight on her legs with a clearer mind.
What is that?
It did not feel like a heap of bed linens.
The weight was even, pressed more firmly against one leg than the other as though it had settled there of its own accord. It felt warmer too, and heavier, shifting ever so slightly as she tried to raise her leg.
Marian held her breath.
Alive?
Her heart skipped a beat at the thought, and her fingers twitched. She could feel her body going still in fear as the thought of a strange presence in the room filled her mind.
I must be dreaming.
It was the only explanation that made sense.
She had fallen asleep in a strange place, with her mind burdened by many thoughts. It was not far-fetched to think that unrest had followed her into her sleep.
She released a soft breath, sinking back into the bed, when suddenly, the weight shifted again.
Her breath caught.
Her eyes snapped open, and for a brief moment, she did not move.
