Myles frowned. The Estelle he held was not the woman he had assumed her to be when he had met her the other day on the clifftop. That woman had been carefree and a little wayward, he was sure of it. She had stood far too close to the cliff edge to be staid and proper, and had allowed her hair to pull free of its pins and flow freely and without restraint. He was given the distinct impression that she was strong and courageous. The one in his arms tonight, though, was so timid he could barely hear her when she spoke. He wasn’t sure which appealed to him more. Both he suspected because even frozen and scared, Estelle was stunningly beautiful.
Of course, she looks cold and scared. She has just been lying on the floor and is terrified because you have just run over her, a dark voice chastised him.
“Where else do you hurt?” he murmured when she lapsed into thoughtful silence. He wanted her to keep talking to him because he could then be assured that she was lucid and not delirious through pain or injury.
Estelle frowned while she took stock of her physical injuries. “My head hurts,” she mumbled. “My side hurts, my back aches, and my feet are sore.”
“Your feet?” Myles repeated, his brows lifted in astonishment. He looked at her boots. Had he run over her feet? Or was she just confused? “Are you in much pain?”
“They hurt. They are sore on the soles,” she whispered in confusion.
“The soles,” he repeated blankly. “Now why would the soles of your feet hurt? Do you remember what you were doing to make them sore?”
Estelle wanted to shake her head but the memory of the awful pain she had felt last time stopped her. She looked at him dolefully.
“I wish I did,” she replied honestly. “I just know that my feet hurt. I feel as though I have been walking over something-” She hesitated when the faint shadow of a memory flickered to life in the back of her mind but was gone before she could focus on it.
“Like a forest floor?” Myles felt compelled to ask.
“There is something wrong.” Her whispered voice held a hint of desperation that betrayed her growing anxiety.
“What? With the woods?” I should say so, Myles thought but didn’t say so aloud. “What is wrong with the woods?” he asked casually.
He knew, or at least thought he did, but he wanted to hear it from her lips.
“I think I can remember running through trees,” she replied hesitantly.
“Did you run far? Were you enjoying yourself?” He prompted urgently when she fell silent. He fought hard to keep control of his impatience when she didn’t immediately answer. He was so desperate for information he struggled not to pummel her with questions.
All in good time, Myles. All in good time. But, as far as he was concerned, the longer it took to find out what went on in the woods the harder it would be to catch the people responsible if they had chased her out onto the road. It was foolhardy and reckless thing to do that could have ended up with her being killed.
“If you try too hard you will not remember. Just relax,” he soothed.
“I was running through the woods, but I was scared,” she said suddenly.
“Were you being chased?”
Estelle’s stomach flipped. She went cold inside and looked at him. “Now why would you ask that?”
Myles lifted his brows but shrugged; his face a cool mask of politeness that betrayed no hint of his inner turmoil.
“I am just asking,” he replied with an off-hand shrug.
“I was being chased, I think. It was horrible but I couldn’t see anything because of this awful fog. I hate it,” she said vehemently but softened her voice when she continued. “I can vaguely remember a house, with a little crooked chimney, and an old lady, but-”
“An old lady?” Myles went still and looked at her.
“Yes.” Estelle described the old woman and the cottage in more detail. “It is strange, I can remember both.”
“But you cannot remember what you were doing there,” he murmured. It wasn’t a question.
“I was picking apples.” She tried to look around for her basket. “Do you have them?”
“What?”
“My basket of apples,” she replied.
Myles shook his head. “I didn’t see any basket of apples.” Indeed, he hadn’t seen anything but her, mainly because he hadn’t been looking. “I will send one of the staff to look for them when this fog clears,” he reasoned.