The Stolen One by Suzanne Crowley Read Free Book Online

her. Aye, I can.”
    The shivers ran up my arms as I peered around the empty larder. “No, Anna. You’ve been dreaming.”
    “She’s here, Kat,” Anna persisted. “And she’s come for you.”
    “Who? Jane the fool?”
    “No. Someone else.”
    Christian was walking away from the cottage, the shrouded figure in his arms. “Stay here,” I said to Anna. His shovel was still by the front door, and I ran for it. I picked it up and went after him.
    “What do you think you’re doing?” he yelled over his shoulder.
    “I want to help you!” I called after him. “And you can’t speak to me like that, I tell you, Christian.”
    “I can speak to you any way I please. You are acting the fool. This is man’s work, Kat,” he said more softly. “Go to Anna.”
    “I will not. I want to help you!”
    He shifted the bundle in his arms and grabbed the shovel. “Go now!” he said, his voice low and threatening.
    I stood staring at his back, my hands still feeling the soft wool of his coat as he walked off into the woods. Finally I glanced back at Blackchurch Cottage. My truth, my destiny, was in there.
     
    I went to Anna first. I lifted her head. “Christian is burying Jane. I’m going to help Grace clean up. You must at all costs stay out here. Do you understand me, Wren?” She nodded.
    “I’ll be back for you soon, I promise,” I said as I left the larder.
    A moment later I found Grace, collapsed on the hay of our stripped bed. An arrow of fear coursed through me as I slowly walked to her side. The smell of juniper had returned, intermingling with the sweet smell of death. I stood there watching her heavy breathing. She stared back at me, and for the first time ever I saw that she was scared.
    “I saw a ghost tonight, Grace, walking up Sudeley Lane,” I told her. She watched me carefully, but her eyes seemed somehow empty. I described the figure and her dress.
    “Ahh, it was her favorite. In crimson, her favorite color. Henry gave it to her. She loved that gown even though it belonged to his former wife, who was a little minx and got her head chopped off. It didn’t matter to her. She loved beautiful things, and that gown was lovely.”
    “Will you tell me now, Grace?”
    Grace coughed, and spittle ran down the side of her mouth. I grabbed a cloth from the bedside and wiped it away. “Who was my mother, Grace?” I asked calmly. “And my father. Who were they? I’ve a right to know.”
    “I’ve sinned,” she said, her eyes starting to roll. “I’m stained with my sins. Can you see them, Kat? My stains?”
    I could only see the signs of death marching its way through her body. “Grace, tell me what to do.” I grabbed both of her hands. They were icy, dead. “How can I save you?” I pleaded.
    “I was already dying, Kat. Of the cancer,” she said. “Aye, and I’m glad of it. God is calling me and I will do as he bids.” She shivered, and I pulled the remainingblanket up to her. “You must marry Christian immediately or there will be talk….”
    I laughed. “There’s always talk of us, Grace.”
    She grabbed my arm with such force that I felt as though a lightning bolt ran through me. “Heed my words, Spirit,” she said, trying to pull herself up. “You have no choice. You must marry Christian. He’ll make you a fine husband and will take care of Anna. You’ll have a good life here, Kat. It’s all that I’ve worked for.”
    “You said you would tell me the truth someday, Grace,” I said quietly. “You promised.”
    “I made lots of promises in my life, Kat. But I kept the most important one. I took care of you. Loved you as my own,” she said.
    Yes, I had known that my entire life. But it was a love hued with many things—regret, guilt, and something else I never could perceive. I heard a muffled sob behind me in the shadows of our keeping room. Anna. Could she see Grace’s lips from where she stood? I glanced very slowly over my shoulder and could see the tip of her boot in the