Among the Darkness Stirs

Marguerite had a strange look on her face. “He’s been gone many years. He died of the fever when he was a young boy. He never met his father.”

“That is a sad story,” Audrey said.

“Life doesn’t always have a happy ending, dearie. You’re too young to know that yet,” she told her.

“I’m not a child. I’ve had my share of unhappiness.” There was a defensive tone in her voice.

Marguerite patted her hand. “Yes. Your father. I recall.”

Audrey looked at the paper flowers that dotted the room and felt a sadness at Marguerite’s life.

“It’s getting late, dearie. Go on to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Audrey stood. “Good night, Marguerite.”

Audrey stretched delicately as she walked down the long hallway. She had no wish to go back to her small little room after seeing the colorful Marguerite. She walked outside the workhouse building, passing the smaller buildings until she made her way to the cottage. She looked at it from afar. Soon her mother and Frances would be inside it, and they would be a family again.

She turned down the small path and stopped herself when she saw a figure ahead of her carrying a lantern and walking beyond the orchard. She frowned. Where was the person going? There was nothing out here except the cluster of cottages and the fruit trees.

She shivered in the night air. Why were they out and about at this late hour? She watched the dark figure for another minute before they walked out of view. What business would they—

Then she stopped. She remembered. On the other side of the vast orchard, there were two buildings they might be going to, but that made her shiver more.

The chapel…and the mortuary.

Audrey stepped inside the cottage and looked about the front room. It looked so cozy with the small sofa and chairs and the fresh coat of paint. She was excited to be able to bring her little family to join her, and they would be here soon enough. She went upstairs to check the rooms, and they were ready for Frances and Augusta.

She was about to come down the stairs when she heard a creak down below. She listened with wide eyes, and the creak came again. Someone was in the house. She felt a catch in her throat. The man with the lantern! She would ease down the stairs as quietly as possible and run to the front door to escape.

She took a step. Then another and closed her eyes when it creaked again. Another step. Then another. And when she had finally stepped off the landing, she took a deep breath. Before she was able to take another step, a strong arm pulled her back and pushed her into the wall.

“Who are you?” Henry asked, pressing her shoulders into the wall. Then he saw her. “Audrey,” he breathed out.

She swallowed, not daring to move. “Yes. It’s my cottage.”

“I saw movement inside the house from outside. I was concerned. I thought someone might be up to no good here,” he told her.

“I was looking at the cottage before my mother and sister arrive,” she said, moving away from him.

“I see.”

“Where is your lantern?” she asked.

He frowned. “I’ve no lantern.”

Henry looked down at her face and felt the urge to pull her into him and kiss her again. How many times had he dreamed of those lips and had wanted to do exactly as he had the night he thought she was a ghost?

“I’ve wanted to speak to you since that night, but I never got the chance,” he said, stepping back and letting her go.

“There’s absolutely no need to discuss that night,” Audrey said, her cheeks going red.

“No need?”

“I prefer to forget that night,” she told him, avoiding his gaze.

Forget? he wondered wildly. All he could remember was that night. When he was poring over ledgers and speaking with his clients, he saw her face and heard her moans in his ear. It was a sort of madness that had overtaken him.

“We can’t just pretend it never happened,” he asked.