Night of the Candles by Jennifer Blake Read Free Book Online Page B

transferred his trust to that mad man, Carl. He obeys Herr Jason and tolerates the rest of us who live here at Monteigne; everyone else is an enemy. I shudder to think of how he howled the night she died. There was nothing that would make him stop.”
    “It is strange that you should mention the dog. I saw them together last night, in a dream.”
    “It is not so strange to me that you dreamed of her … not here, lying in her bed.”
    “No, but the dog…” But perhaps that was easily explained by the fact that he had frightened her earlier. The dream had been so real. There was something about it she felt she should remember, but it had faded away as dreams do in the light of morning. All she could recall was the great dog … and Amelia, wearing the collar of Harmonia.
    “Marta?”
    “Ja, fraeulein?”
    “What became of the collar of Harmonia … the necklace?”
    “Necklace?”
    “I had it in my hand when I fell. Did someone pick it up?”
    “I have seen nothing of a necklace, fraeulein. No one has said anything to me of it.”
    “Would you look in my reticule?”
    “Ja, that I will,” she answered and getting heavily to her feet, moved to the armoire and took down the small petit point purse. But though she turned the contents out onto the foot of the bed, there was no sign of the necklace.
    “It could be that the master picked it up,” Marta suggested.
    Amanda nodded but in her thoughts she added … or Sophia. The woman had wanted the necklace badly. What was to keep her from pocketing it on the spot, hoping that once it was in her possession Jason would relent and allow her to keep it? She had no right, no right at all. Or did she? Perhaps if she and Jason were planning to wed? But could that be so? Jason seemed so torn with grief. Amelia had been dead only a few months. It seemed unlikely that he could propose marriage again so soon. And yet Sophia had insinuated by her actions that there was some relationship between them. Men were human, and Amelia had been ill a long time. Sophia was an attractive woman, and she had been living under this roof nearly a year, according to Theo. She was not a girl anymore. If she was going to marry, it must be soon. There was no denying that Jason was a catch, a man still in possession of his home and with the necessary men and equipment to work the land, an attractive man, no more than thirty-five. Women, for the sake of security, had given themselves in marriage, many times before to men with much less to recommend them. Would Sophia stay on here at Monteigne if she was not sure there was something to gain?
    “Have you eaten, Marta?” Amanda was not used to constant care. Privacy had always been important to her, and it made her nervous that Marta sat watching her so that she could anticipate her every need.
    “Ja, fraeulein.”
    “Is there nothing you need to do? I could entertain myself, reading perhaps, if you do.”
    “There are many books in Herr Jason’s study. Shall I bring one or two?”
    “Yes, please. Marta…”
    “Ja?” She turned at the door.
    “How long will it be before I can get up? I won’t stay here, imposing on Mr. Monteigne’s hospitality, a moment longer than is absolutely necessary.”
    “I cannot say, fraeulein. It would be better if you did not leave your bed for two or three days, perhaps more if your headache does not leave you.” She closed the door gently behind her.
    Two or three days. Amanda let her shoulders sag against the pillow. She couldn’t stay that long. Two or three days of strain, of feeling like an intruder, of stirring up the memories of the dead girl who had occupied these rooms, and who even now seemed to be keeping them alive. She couldn’t bear it.
    Marta returned with the books, but the effort of remembering, of speaking, and of trying to concentrate on the answers had made her head begin to ache again. She lay back with her eyes closed.
    A short while later a knock came on the hall door. Marta moved to