But this was different.
“Come, Eliza. Tell me.”
“It is always so dark.”
“Yes.”
“And I’m standing next to a window, but I cannot get away. Something red is always wrapped around me. No matter how much I fight, I can’t get loose.”
“The curtains.”
She met his eyes. “You know about them?”
“I’ve been in your mother’s chamber too. Mostly looking for answers that were not there. Go on.”
“Then someone comes. It is always the same. He’s…he’s like a beast or a lion, with a mane around his head, only he’s part human too.”
“Who does he look like?”
“I do not know. I can’t remember. It’s too unclear.”
“But it must be someone you know. It could come to you.”
“It never has before.”
“But you have never been here before, this close to everything that might jar back your memories.” He leaned closer. “Then?”
“He claws at me, I scream, and he shoves me through a window. I wake up before I hit the bottom.”
He said nothing to this, only took his gaze away from her and scanned the world five feet below them. Then, slowly, his eyes came back to hers. Gentleness shone, a gentleness she didn’t have to imagine. “How long since you’ve slept?”
“Three nights.”
He nodded and kept her gaze. “The nightmare may be our key to everything.”
Our.As if it were something they were doing together. A common purpose. Something that didn’t just make her useful to him, but pulled her nearer to him as a friend with the same hope.
She just didn’t know if that hope was hers.
Or if she’d ever want to see the beast’s face for what it really was.
The next morning, Felton dismounted his horse in front of the stone, gothic-styled church. According to the addlepates in the village, most no one had heard of Jasper Ellis, and the ones who had knew nothing about him. Or so they said.
Oh well. If they couldn’t give him answers, he’d find someone who could. The vicar, Mr. Warburton, would sooner lose his hand and foot than withhold truth. After all, wasn’t he always saying it possessed the power to set one free?
“If you are looking for Mr. Warburton, he is quite indisposed.”
Felton paused halfway up the stone steps and turned to see Miss Haverfield at the bottom. White dress with no wrinkles. Red pelisse with glistening silver buttons. Gold curls peeping out from a straw hat trimmed in flowing red ribbon.
The picture of a perfect lady.
Felton started back down the steps. “I didn’t see you when I arrived.”
“I was sitting in the carriage under the shade tree. Father is in the parish meeting with the other churchwardens. Some dull business about road maintenance and repair.”
“You may not think it so dull were the roads to get muddy and impassable.”
Her smile widened, and she tilted her head in the way he’d always found so flattering. As if he were amusing her. Or she were amusing him. “So the roads have been to blame for keeping you away so long.”
