For a moment a shadow crossed over her fine gray eyes, but then it was gone as soon as it appeared.
"There is no reason to worry about that right now," Gideon said, and there was anew mocking tone in his voice that I did not remember. “After all, you are quite a little girl compared to Ada.”
My cheeks burned with humiliation. But Ada smiled so kindly on me, taking my cold hand in hers.
"Of course. I wouldn't d-dream of taking her place."
At least not the first day.
"I will be happy to show you the areas it is safe for you to be in," Ada said sweetly. “Stay in the east wing of the house, for there are renovations going on in the west wing. There is a library in the east wing, and you may read if you are careful with the books. You are also free to wander about the grounds, but, of course, take caution on the moors. It is a very wild place, and villagers at St. Mary’s have died by falling into deep ravines or off of slippery high rocks.”
As we sat down, Ada seemed to sense that I was nervous, for she began to ask me questions about my family and where I had grown up.
I answered as best I could, but inside I was wracked with confusion.
Gideon barely looked at me, instead talking with Ada about what had transpired at Grayspires while he was gone.
It was the topic that had most animated him, and I wished I could contribute to the conversation.
If my husband loved Grayspires, I would too.
“Go to your room now,” Gideon ordered after we were done. “I will be there shortly.”
Ada seemed to sense my fears and anxieties, for she patted my hand encouragingly. I was rather pathetically grateful for the kindness and attention she showed me, for I feared I did not yet feel as much as I wanted from my husband.
But I hoped I could count at least one friend in Grayspires Manor.
I hurried to my room. Beyond the dining hall, the manor was shrouded in almost total darkness. I could hear no sounds except the panting of my own breath and the rustle of my own skirts as I groped my way up the stairs and then down to my own room.
There I waited, not knowing what to do, until I heard my husband's footsteps in the corridor.
And then, of course, it was a very easy matter to know what to do in the darkness. . .
CHAPTER 5
Deliverance
Dear Mr. Finch,
I hope you are doing well. The weather has been dry and cool here, although I understand from the way the servants talk, that we are predicted to get early snow. Therefore I determined I would get a letter sent off before the weather becomes difficult to venture out in.
My husband, Mr. Nightshade, says during the winter we are often cut off from the rest of the county for weeks at a time! What a queer feeling, to be so isolated in what is already a very remote corner of the world.
I was curious, Mr. Finch, about my new family the Nightshades. I happened to be in the library recently fetching something for my husband and I looked at the family Bible. It was very difficult to find, all hidden away and spine turned around, but when I carefully turned the fragile pages, I saw nothing in the names of his ancestors thatwas familiar—nothing to connect our families. Pray, could you tell me in which way he is my kinsman? In what ways are our families connected? Thank you.
Also, do you know anything of my husband's line of work? I wondered, since you seemed well-acquainted with him duringhis introduction to me? Why do I not ask him myself? you might wonder. Perhaps I am a foolish goose, but I find myself a little. . . afraid. Oh, not of him, of course, just of doing anything improper or wrong, or seeming too forward. And he is a very busy man, going to his workshop for hours each day or out in the woods.
Perhaps he is hunting. I have only ventured out a little into the grounds, for I am not yet accustomed to the moors—back home trees were soft, gentle things, and here they are rough and gnarled as they loom over me. My sleep has been poor, and I can't shake the notion that the branches are arms—reaching out to me for what purpose I know not. I have found strange things at the edge of the woods, too. Bodies of small creatures, twisted and bloody. Surely if an animal killed them, they would take the body, too? What sort of animal kills only for the pleasure of it?
Please return an answer as soon as possible.
Your obedient servant,
Deliverance Nightshade (nee Rosemond)
CHAPTER 6
Deliverance
