“I’m sorry, daughter,” she said quietly. “Would you like to pray with me?”
Kristine sniffed back her tears. “Yes.”
Lady Trevayne reached for her hand and together they walked down the long, narrow corridor that led to the chapel.
The light from dozens of tall white candles filled the room with a soft amber glow. Kristine glanced at the painted faces of the saints as she made her way down the center aisle. They all looked so serene; she wished she could find that same sense of inner peace in her own life.
She knelt in one of the pews beside Lady Trevayne, bowed her head, and closed her eyes. Kneeling there, she poured out the desires of her heart, praying for a miracle that would thwart Charmion’s curse, praying for a strong, healthy child, begging, pleading, for help.
She lost track of time as she knelt there. She had forgotten what a blessing it was to pray, to lay one’s burdens at the feet of a loving Heavenly Father. She seemed to hear the words Only ask and ye shall receive, felt a reassuring presence near her, comforting her.
Blinking back tears, she rose to her feet, then offered Lady Trevayne her hand. “Why don’t you come home with me?” Kristine asked.
“Thank you, Kristine,” Lady Trevayne said with a smile. “But . . .”
“Erik has gone. I should dearly love to have your company.”
“And I should love to spend more time with you, daughter, but . . .” She squeezed Kristine’s hand. “I should not like for him to come home and find me there.” Lady Trevayne took a deep breath. “It’s not because I’m afraid of him,” she explained softly, “but because he does not want me there. He does not wish me to see him as he is now, and I must respect his wishes.”
“I understand.”
“Thank you, child. I hope you will come and see me often.”
“I will. And I hope you’ll come and spend Christmas Day with us.”
“I should like that very much. Ask Mrs. Grainger to send the coach for me.”
“I will.” Bending down, Kristine kissed the older woman’s cheek. “Pray for us.”
“I shall. Mind my words, Kristine, stay away from Charmion.”
“Does she live nearby?” Kristine asked, wondering why the thought had not occurred to her before.
“She dwells at the top of Cimmerian Crag, less than a day’s ride from Hawksbridge.”
Kristine nodded. Cimmerian Crag was a familiar landmark, though she had never known that anyone lived there.
Lady Trevayne laid her hand on Kristine’s arm. “Stay away from her,” she warned again. “There is no way to soften that virago’s wicked heart.”
It was dark by the time Kristine returned to Hawksbridge Castle. She bathed and dressed, then went down to supper. Mrs. Grainger hovered over her. Kristine knew the cook was about to burst with curiosity but, being a servant, it wasn’t her place to ask where Kristine had been, and Kristine was not of a mind to explain.
She ate because it gave her something to do, because she would need her strength for the journey to Charmion’s dwelling.
She would leave in the morning and hope her courage didn’t desert her along the way. After dinner, she went into the library and sat in Erik’s favorite chair. The house seemed so big, so empty without him. Even when he had been busy in another part of the house, she had felt his presence, had known that, sooner or later, he would come to her bed. She had not truly realized how much she had looked forward to being in his arms until he was gone.
She moaned softly, aching for him, for what he must be feeling, thinking. Seeing him had explained so much—why he never left the estate, why there were no mirrors in the house, other than those behind locked doors, why he preferred wool to the fine lawn and linen shirts that were favored by wealthy men, why he had refused her touch. Her fingers curled into a tight fist as she thought of the nights she had yearned to touch him, to caress him. He had been wise to prevent her. Look how she had behaved when she saw him! Fainted dead away like some spineless ninny. Did he hate her for that? Heaven knew she hated herself.
She thought of all Lady Trevayne had said, all Erik had said, and knew she couldn’t run away, couldn’t hide inside the house. She would go to Charmion and beg the witch to lift the curse.
She felt a sense of calm, of resignation, as she made her decision. She had failed Erik once. She would not fail him again.
She rose early the following morning. Sneaking out of the house, she went to the barn and saddled Misty, then led the horse outside to the mounting block.
She was congratulating herself on getting away, unseen, when Brandt rounded the corner. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he blinked up at her, obviously surprised to see her out and about so early in the day.