Change of Address by Kate Dolan Read Free Book Online Page B

sound in his voice.
    She curtsied, clearly signaling that she wished to be away.
“I do thank you for your generous hospitality. We will see you tomorrow, then.”
    “Yes,” he echoed. At least he had her gratitude.
    * * * * *
    Her bedtime prayers should have focused on the gift of the
Messiah and giving praise to God and angels singing glory Halleluiah. Instead
she prayed that it had all been a dream. She prayed she would wake Christmas
morning at Holingbroke just as she had for years, they would have buns with
candied fruit for breakfast and then cluster around Papa’s bed to wish him
Happy Christmas. And the village church would fill with the steamy breath of worshippers
grateful to have an extra day’s rest and everyone would be just a bit joyous.
    If it was not a dream, if this move was all real, then
tomorrow they would be strangers in a strange church. And they would have to
beg for their dinner and there would be no joy.
    She never could have asked, have begged at the
Hilliar home in such a shameful manner, if she had not thought of what her Papa
would have wanted for them this Christmas. “Don’t wait,” he’d urged her mother.
“Marry again as soon as you can. I want you to be happy, all of you.” Though
Papa was wrong in thinking that marriage could make anyone happy, he did at
least want them to be happy and that was what was of greatest import.
    Amanda could be the dutiful daughter and help make her
mother and sister happy, at least for the day.
    She was aware that she was no longer even attempting to pray
but simply replaying the moment of her mortification over and over.
    Charles Hilliar was such a ridiculous young man, it seemed
hard to believe she could be mortified by anything she’d said in his presence.
Yet maybe he was not so bad as all that. His argument about the occasional need
to act without thinking held a good deal of merit. And he had this hopeful look
about him that was somehow appealing, as if he were a puppy dog she might pat
on the head or toss a bit of food under the table. Ever hopeful, not seeking
much. He’d suggested they could be friends. There was no harm in that, was
there?
    She wondered what time it was. At home, when the house was
still, she could often hear the tall clock ticking in the drawing room below.
    They had no clock in this house. Wind gusted outside,
moaning in the eaves. It was not a comforting sound. She pulled the covers
tight over her head and waited for morning.
     
    Chains rattled violently as the wind continued to moan. Had
they told any Christmas ghost stories this year before bed? The pounding of the
ghostly chains had to be part of a dream. As Amanda listened, the sounds became
more distinct—first a rattling, then a pounding noise. Almost as if someone
were trying to open the door downstairs.
    “There’s no fire,” she said, half aloud, to Charlie Hilliar
or whoever it was pounding on the door in her dream.
    Could he see her in her nightshift?
    All at once, she was very much awake.
    “Did you hear that?” Honoria asked.
    “What?” Surely Charlie Hilliar had not been knocking on the
door and she didn’t want to admit she’d apparently dreamed about him. What had
her sister heard?
    “It was like a whimper or a small scream, like a rabbit
makes when it’s very scared.”
    They both listened for a moment, the only sound in the still
darkness coming from their breathing.
    “Animals are supposed to talk on Christmas eve,” Honoria
whispered.
    “Maybe Juno has a shrill voice.”
    They listened again but heard nothing. No screams, no doors
rattling.
    “We must have been dreaming.” Amanda yawned. “Let’s go back
to—”
    She was interrupted by a piercing scream.
    “Juno?” Honoria guessed. “Someone is trying to steal her!”
    Amanda shook her head, a meaningless gesture her sister could
not see in the darkness. “The stable is on Mama’s end of the house and the
noises we heard came from on our end.” She pulled aside the bed