Gypsy of Spirits: Prequel to So Fell the Sparrow by Katie Jennings Read Free Book Online

the table to grasp Grace’s hand firmly in her own. “Your father didn’t buy this house—he inherited it. It has been in the Sullivan family for over a hundred years. Since 1865.”
    Hearing that only made Grace more angry. “Then why is this the first time I’ve heard of it? That doesn’t make any goddamn sense.”
    “I don’t know.” Nellie shook her head sadly. “It’s been many years since any member of your family lived here permanently. They all seem to prefer to keep a distance.”
    “Then why not just sell it? Why hold on to it?”
    “It’s been rumored for a long time that the house was an addiction your family could never shake. They tried to run from it, but they always came back, generation after generation. And now you’re here.” Nellie tried to smile, though her expression was oddly haunted.
    Grace’s eyes narrowed. “You want me to believe that my father was addicted to this house, and that’s why he didn’t sell it?”
    Nellie nodded. “It’s not unheard of. Many people become attached to places and things in ways they can’t explain.”
    “That’s stupid,” Grace retorted, more than a little frustrated. “That still doesn’t explain why he kept this place a secret.”
    “Maybe he wanted to save you from the same addiction he had.” Nellie shrugged, rising to her feet to clean up the dishes. “Either way, you ended up here, didn’t you? I’d say that’s fate.”
    Grace paused, absorbing the woman’s words carefully. She realized that she hadn’t even hesitated in going to Mad Rock Harbor. The old version of herself would have gone overseas to the beautiful streets of Paris or to the hills of Tuscany, maybe even to the coasts of Ireland. Instead, she drove to this little seaboard town. Why? What had pulled her here?
    Absolutely nothing except a desire to know the truth, Grace decided, feeling foolish. She was letting the old woman’s superstitions cloud her judgment. She’d come to Mad Rock Harbor to feel closer to her dead parents, and there was nothing odd about that at all. But something still prickled at the back of her neck, causing her skin to crawl with uncertainty.
    “I’ll be going now. You enjoy the rest of that wine,” Nellie said suddenly, appearing beside Grace with her coat over one arm and the empty pot in the other.
    Grace looked up at her, blinking. “Oh, okay. Thank you for the red meat.”
    Nellie smiled. “You’re most welcome.” She glanced around the room, taking in the antique furniture. “These old things really look lovely in here, don’t they?”
    “Didn’t you know that furniture was down in the basement?” Grace asked, turning in her chair to stare at Nellie. “Seems odd that you didn’t mention it.”
    Nellie hesitated. “I don’t go down in the basement. Fear of the dark.”
    Grace sensed the older woman’s discomfort. “Right. Well—”
    The gong resounded from the grandfather clock as it struck seven, the noise startling them both. After the seventh gong, Grace sighed. When she noticed that Nellie’s face was white as a sheet, she got immediately to her feet.
    “Are you alright?”
    Nellie’s eyes shot from the clock back to Grace, her hand fluttering over her rapidly beating heart. “That startled me, is all,” she tried to laugh, though she looked around the room nervously.
    Grace folded her arms and gave the clock a cross look. “I may have to disconnect the gong. It’s too loud.”
    “Don’t you feel that?” Nellie asked in a murmured whisper, rubbing her free hand over her arm as if to chase off a chill.
    Grace frowned. “Feel what?”
    Nellie said nothing for a moment then shook her head. “Nothing, child. Goodnight.”
    She took off before Grace could respond. Grace stared after her, more than a little confused, then turned to the clock again.
    “Stupid clock,” she muttered, though part of her oddly missed the sound of the gong now that it was gone.
     

     
    GRACE DECIDED NOT to disable the hour