Of Midnight Born by Lisa Cach Read Free Book Online Page A

behave more like sisters than aunt and niece,” he said, but sounded distracted.
    Serena, feeling slightly shaken herself by meeting his eyes, let herself fade away into the unconscious oblivion that was her only form of rest. He couldn’t have seen her, but some people seemed able to sense her—as he had. She would have to think on this peculiar man, and on how she could most easily be rid of him.

Chapter Five
    “No moon, clear skies, and nary a female voice to be heard. A man could ask for no more,” Alex said to his Great Dane Otto as he set down the small, red-shielded lantern on the portable desk. He went to the crenelated wall of the tower and looked out over the dark countryside. There were few lights visible, much of the populace having gone to bed with the setting of the sun. They had work to do at dawn.
    He, on the other hand, had but recently awoken, and only the rising of the sun would signal the end of his work for the night.
    “Would they think me mad, Otto, if they knew what I was about?”
    Otto looked at him, jowls hanging, then turned his shoulder to his master and went to go lie down on his favorite horse blanket.
    “As if you are one to talk,” Alex said to the animal, who tucked his nose into his paws and gave a great sigh. “At least I have not been chasing shadows all week, barking at nothing.”
    He pushed away from the parapet and went to the table, arranging the star charts and clock within easy reach from the reclining chair he’d had brought up when it became apparent there would be no rain or clouds tonight. A sense of delight, mingled with a trace of guilt, tickled at his chest. It was the same feeling he had known as a child, abandoning schoolwork for games.
    “Perhaps Philippa was right about me,” he said aloud. “Not that it matters.” The wool mills were in capable hands;Sophie was at last engaged and presently living under the watchful eye of Philippa; Amelia and Constance had their own households to concern them; and he was finally free to do as he wished. There was no reason he shouldn’t sit and count stars until he was ninety.
    He made himself comfortable in the chair, lying almost supine upon its lowered back, and turned his eyes to the sky. He felt as if he had been waiting twenty-three years to do this, here in this place where he had first been struck by the wonder and mystery of falling stars.
    His hand went to the scar above his temple, his fingertips running along it in unconscious habit. Little memory of which he could be certain remained from that night. The falling stars, yes. Rhys and his damnable ghost story, yes. But what had caused him to fall—of that he could not be certain.
    There had been something he’d seen, some other light, but whether it was only a brighter star or Rhys’s ghost Serena, he could not say. Logic demanded that it all had been his own imagination upon waking from the fall, that there had been no light, but there was a part of him that wanted this place to hold a mystery, a bit of the unknown that had touched his life on that extraordinary night.
    It had touched his life, cracked his skull, and broken his arm. It might be better for him, he reflected, if it were a certain thing that ghosts did not exist—and Serena most particularly.
    Serena roamed the quiet corridors and rooms of the castle, many of which had not been touched since the Briggs family left. What type of life was this Alex Woding trying to lead here?
    Woding. The name made her smile. Did he know it meant “the mad one”? He would understand by the time she was through with him.
    His was a most peculiar household. It was composed completely of men and boys. Where were the women? Her own home had been predominately male, but even so there had been a fair complement of females, for everyone knew they were needed.
    Who was going to do Woding’s laundry, mend his clothes, and do a proper job of cleaning? Who would tend to the kitchen herbs and the stillroom? Keep track