linen and was beautifully embroidered with flowers and vines. It also looked really old, like something she shouldn’t touch. Probably priceless. But it was a scrap with frayed edges. Maybe a ribbon at some time?
But she didn’t want to relinquish the piece. It comforted her. “Surely it won’t hurt to use it as a bookmark for one night?” Elizabeth knew she had a bad habit of talking to herself out loud whenever she was alone. Hearing the sound of her voice in the quiet made her feel less alone.
She hurried to the bathroom, wishing she’d brought slippers. A gust of wind blew down the hallway, extinguishing the candle. That was odd. The glass should have protected the flame, and she’d sworn all the doors and windows were shut. When she crossed the hall to check the room with the hole in the roof, Elizabeth tripped over the rug and went down hard on the stone.
“Ouch.” Her knee burnt. Limping to her temporary room, she lit the candle again. The drops of blood welling up on her knee were the color of rubies in the warm light. A tissue stopped the worst, and she went back to the book.
Thunder rumbled and she slammed the book shut, the scary chapter not helping her overall mood. “Nope, no more creepiness tonight. Next time I’m going with a cotton candy romance.” Yawning, she checked the time on her phone.
“Busy day tomorrow. Better get some sleep.”
She turned on her side, and the crack of thunder was so loud the windows rattled. Elizabeth jolted up in bed, and her knee hit the nightstand, knocking the book to the floor. The lightning cast shadows in the room, and as she watched, they climbed the walls and oozed across the ceiling. As she picked the book up, the strip of fabric fell out, landing on her knee.
“Oh no. I’ve ruined it. With my luck it was probably worth thousands and thousands of dollars.” Holding the linen to the candle, she gasped. Three spots of blood dotted the artifact. Her stomach flipped over. In the morning, she’d have to confess. Not only to breaking and entering but to ruining a piece of history. The look on Featherton’s face would be one of disappointment. He’d politely ask her to leave, and she’d have to say goodbye to Highworth, all because curiosity once again got the better of her.
The windows crashed open, wind blowing through the room, sending the room into blackness. Elizabeth screamed, throwing the covers over her head, cowering, holding tight to the scrap of fabric.
The storm raged, and she knew if she didn’t get out of bed and close the windows, everything in the room would be wet and ruined. “You can do this. Do it fast and get it done.”
She jumped out of bed, blinking rain out of her eyes as she pushed against the wind to shut the windows. Water pooled on the floor dangerously close to the priceless rug. There was no time. Lightning flashed so close it left a jagged imprint on the back of her eyelids. No way no how was she leaving the safety of this room. The hallway would be dark, and her room… She shuddered. It would be even scarier. Elizabeth yanked the flannel nightgown over her head and mopped up the water on the floor. There was a hook on the wall near the fire. The gown would be dry in a few hours. Tonight she’d sleep in her birthday suit. Her creepy room needed the light of day before she’d venture back in there.
The windows rattled again and she leapt into bed, finding she was still holding tight to the scrap of fabric. The thought of cleaning it crossed her mind, saving her from telling Martha and Featherton what she had done. But what if it disintegrated? The lightning turned blue and green and she threw the covers over her head like a child. Underneath the thunder she heard the faint sound of music. Nope, she wasn’t looking. What if there was a ghost in the room? This wasn’t the kind of adventure she’d had in mind. She wanted fun, not a horror movie.
Elizabeth didn’t know how long the storm raged before it
Michael Bracken, Elizabeth Coldwell, Sommer Marsden