Page 31 of To Ride the Wind

A memory popped into her head of words he had spoken to her previously. He had said that once she reached her new home, she might choose never to see him. Surely he didn’t think that was what she wanted? He didn’t mean to abandon her alone in this enormous place?

She shook off the thought. He had promised her an explanation, so he hadn’t left for good. She would have to hold on to that assurance until morning.

Sighing, she leaned over to blow out the candelabra sitting on the side table. She didn’t relish lying alone in the dark, but the fire in the hearth would provide enough light for reassurance, and she didn’t want to risk accidentally setting the bed curtains alight.

But the second the candle flames winked out, the room was plunged into complete darkness.

Charlotte gave a terrified cry, too startled to exercise restraint. Her heart pounded as she sat up in bed, trying unsuccessfully to peer into the black around her.

She told herself her reaction was unwarranted, but she wasn’t convinced. What might be lurking unseen in this strange place? And what had happened to the fire? She hadn’t made a request—she hadn’t even been holding the bell.

The bell! Grasping blindly with both hands, she knocked over the candlestick before she finally felt the curved shape of the bell.

“Start the fire again,” she gasped out, her fingers curled around the wooden handle as she made the bell peal out.

Nothing happened.

“Light the candles,” she said in growing desperation, ringing the bell louder.

Still nothing happened.

She could feel the tears gathering, her panic threatening to take over and send her blindly fleeing. But where to?

She could try to use the bell to wish herself out of this room and back in the entryway, but it no longer seemed to be working. And what if the lights had gone out there as well? At least here she was snug in a bed, and she knew the room was empty and the door closed. Could she bear to be in the dark in the vast emptiness of the entryway? Or worse—wandering lost among the castle corridors?

No, it was far better to remain where she was. And her eyes would adjust to the darkness any minute, and she would see it wasn’t as complete as she thought. There had to be traces of moonlight seeping around the curtains if nothing else.

But the minutes dragged out and nothing changed. No matter how closely Charlotte waved her hand in front of her face, she could see no flicker of movement. The darkness was absolute.

“It’s still better to remain here,” she whispered to herself. Morning would come eventually. Even the bell couldn’t change that.

And at least she was alone in her room. She had even seen inside the wardrobe when she was putting away her clothes.

She slowly lowered herself back down to lie flat. But just as her heart was slowing to a more normal rhythm, the door to the corridor creaked open.

Charlotte only just bit back her scream, clapping both hands to her mouth. She felt sure she should do something—get up and fight perhaps, although she had no idea what she was facing and would be more likely to end up tripping over the side table than intimidating the unseen creature.

At the very least, she should call out to whoever had opened the door—assuming it had not been the work of the bell. But instead, she disgraced herself. Primal terror overcame her, and she scrambled beneath the bedcovers.

CHARLOTTE

Pulling the blankets firmly over her head, Charlotte lay there, trembling from head to toe. Her breath rasped in and out, the only sound in the heavy silence. She strained to hear footfalls, but the lush carpet absorbed any sound that might have reached her ears.

“Is…is someone there?” she mustered the courage to say, just as something tugged at the blanket.

For a second she feared it was being pulled off her entirely, and she gripped it harder. But it was merely rippling as someone touched the far side of it.

The mattress dipped slightly as someone climbed in beside her, although the size of the bed meant they were still out of reach of her arm. She scrambled away, nearly falling out of the bed before soft words made her freeze.

“Wait,” the voice said. “I won’t hurt you.”

It was a deep voice, masculine and commanding, but it still had an edge of youth, and she would have guessed its owner to be only a few years older than herself. Strangest of all, the sound of it, although unfamiliar, filled her with the same sense of safety she always felt in the presence of the white bear.

Even so, she couldn’t possibly accept the current situation.

“This is my bedchamber, sir!” she exclaimed, putting as much indignation as she could into her voice without making it waver. Better to show this stranger anger than fear. “This is my bed! You cannot be here!”

She remained poised on the edge of the mattress, ready to leap out if he came any closer. But there was no movement from his side, just words that carried a disconcerting layer of amusement.

---