I feel like a deer in a hunter’s range as we run across the bridge. Brahm blends into the night in his black clothing, but my gown is pale, and the moonlight practically glows on it.
The warm air turns cold when we’re halfway across, and the bridge is suddenly slick with ice. I nearly fall as we run, but Brahm loops his arm around my waist to keep me upright.
As soon as we’re across, he pulls me into the winter forest on the other side, holding me around the waist as we both gasp for breath.
The knee-high snowdrift is freezing against my legs, but I’m too preoccupied with our success to care.
I shiver against Brahm, and he rubs his hands up and down my arms. “It’s too cold to linger. We need to keep going.”
“To where?”
He pushes a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m taking you home.”
My heart gives a leap, and my eyes sting.
We wade through the snow and return to the road, which is thankfully easier to travel. I’m shivering by the time we make it to my parents’ estate, desperately grateful it’s not far from the border.
We pass through the gates and walk by the fountain, past the formal gardens and the dormant rosebushes. I pause in the courtyard, hugging myself as I stare at the dark manor.
“I’ve never seen it so…”
Empty.
Brahm produces a key, and we step inside the foyer.
The smell of lemon oil hits me like a tidal wave, bringing back too many memories. Even the sound of the door closing behind us is familiar.
But this darkness…is different. It’s new and sad and so lonely it makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
“There used to be a lamp on the entry table,” I tell Brahm, fumbling in the dark. “I’m not sure if they left it.”
Suddenly, there is light. I turn, so startled, I let out a small yip.
Though he looks like the bandit, and has pretended to be human up to this point, a small ball of golden fire burns in Brahm’s gloved hand, casting bright light in the room. I stare at the magic for several moments, and then I turn away, relieved to see that the lamp and the table it sits upon have been left.
Avoiding my eyes, Brahm lights the wick just as easily as he lit the air. He then turns toward me, lamp in hand, and the silence becomes heavy.
“There’s a fireplace in the parlor,” I say. “Can you light a fire in there as well?”
Appearing relieved I don’t mention the magic, he follows me through the halls and up the stairs. I shiver as we walk into the room, beginning to feel as if I’ll never be warm again. My toes are numb, and the tips of my fingers sting like I burned them.
A small stack of firewood remains in the log rack near the hearth.
As Brahm arranges wood in the fireplace, I look around the room. It’s been stripped bare. The furniture hasn’t been returned from the auction house, and only a few odds and ends remain. The settee, all the chairs, the piano, the end tables, and Mother’s secretary desk, which Father gave her when they were married, are all gone.
Thankfully, the window seat remains since it’s built into the house and impossible to remove. Hopefully, the men Brahm hired to move the furniture didn’t think to check the cubby underneath. I open the padded lid, relieved to find the quilts within.
I pull out several heavy ones, each made by my grandmother in this very room during the long hours of winter. I wrap one around my shoulders and place another on the floor in front of the fireplace like a picnic blanket. Shivering so much my teeth feel like they’re chattering, I sit down, huddling under my blanket, and wait for Brahm to finish.
He stands once the flames take and then walks to the window, closing the drapes to block out the chill coming in through the glass.
“Better?” he asks when he’s finished, setting the lamp on the floor near the blanket.
I see my bandit in full light for the first time, and it almost makes me smile. I’m not sure how I ever questioned his identity.
Nodding, I turn toward the door. “It’s so quiet.”
“Wallen hired people to maintain the property, but I don’t believe there’s anyone who stays the night.”