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“That’s interesting,” I mumbled. “Back to Marchioness Arabella. Wasn’t it called Isle Wingintam? Why did the Marquees change the name to Rosa-Maria?”
Mirai clucked her tongue at me, smirking. “Now you’re asking the good questions.”
I let out a small laugh at the wicked look on her face. She was a little gossiper, this one, and I was eating up every little detail of this story.
We both leaned forward, as if we were sharing a secret. “No one knows why the Marquees changed the name to Rosa-Maria. No one knows the meaning behind the name, what it was or who it was. But there are… rumors.”
I quirked an eyebrow, waiting.
“Before Arabella, the Marquees was in love with another lady. He had a short affair, but sadly, he was betrothed to Arabella and once they married, the lady left the Marquees and that’s when he decided to settle on the Isle. Far away from his lover’s memories. So, rumors say that Rosa-Maria was his lover.”
She sat back, rubbing her chin with her fingers. “But it’s all rumors. No one knows the truth.”
My stomach fluttered but there was pang of pain in my chest. An ache that wasn’t there before, but it was just an echo of my own heartbreak. “If what you say is true… it must have been painful for Arabella. Living in the shadows of her husband’s lover.”
I knew exactly what that felt like.
“They say that she was madly in love with him, but poor Arabella only ended up with rejection and misery. She passed away without her husband’s love or devotion. But it’s more tragic than that. A tale of unrequited love, heartbreak, jealousy and death.”
I settled back into my chair, smiling and delightfully intrigued. “We have all night.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Julianna
“Gracelynn, no!” She tried to grab my arm, pulling at it. I gripped the steering wheel tighter. “Let me go!”
“Julianna, slow down. You’re going to kill us!” she cried. “Please, I don’t want to die.”
“I’m going slow.” I grinned, keeping my foot on the accelerator.
She clutched her chest, her face red. “Julianna, stop! Please. You’re going too fast.”
I laughed, glancing at her before looking back at the road.
“You’re drunk,” she accused, tears spilling down her cheeks.
I was? I didn’t know…
There was a dull throb at the back of my head, like a low hum. Confused, I blinked hard once and then… pitch-black darkness.
The scene faded away and we were now driving down a lonely, dark road. My heart hammered in my chest.
The car was unstable under my hands; I could feel myself losing my grip, but for some reason, I didn’t lift my foot off the accelerator. My foot was glued to it.
My lips parted and I let out a silent scream. Stop, I told myself. Slow down.
My lungs squeezed and I seemed to gasp for breath, my hands clammy and shaking.
“I’m scared,” Gracelynn whispered.
“Me too,” I said.
I heard her screams first.
I remembered my body flying airborne when the car flipped – then silence. I crashed into a void before landing back in the present. With the stench of blood strong in my nostrils and searing pain coursing through my body.
So much agony.
I couldn’t feel my legs. There was an insistent pain in the back of my head and my ears were ringing. There was an echo, but I didn’t know where it came from. Blood rushed between my ears and my head was heavy, as my body dangled upside down.
My skin burned.
Agony licked through my veins. Every cell in my body felt like they had been crushed under a ghost weight.
I can’t breathe.
I don’t want to die.
I can’t breathe…
It hurts.
I… can’t… breathe…
My eyes blinked open and the first thing I saw was her face.
Her bloodied, mangled face – her empty eyes wide open.
My body startled awake and I sat up straight, my ears ringing with screams. Loud and anguished. I shook, whimpering until I realized they were my screams. My jaw snapped close and my lips trembled with the effort to hold back my cries. My bedsheets were twisted around my ankles, sweat soaking through my nightgown.
The terror of my nightmare paralyzed me with fear and confusion. My face and neck felt like they had been scratched raw and my skin was aflame, burning and sensitive. I knew it was only the ghostly echo of my own past pain. I remembered it so vividly and I could still feel it on my flesh and in my bones.
My chest tightened.
My heart hurt but it was almost like a physical discomfort. Something tangible squeezing the fragile organ.
My body had long grown accustomed to pain. I had lived with it long enough that it was now familiar; we were best friends, after all. Pain and me – we came together, bonded by my tormenting past and the sins I bore on my flesh.
I wiped away the sweat on my forehead, settling back against my pillows, but my body was still shaking. My recurrent nightmare had left a bitter taste on my tongue and bile rose in my throat before I swallowed it down, with great difficulty.
