Chapter 10
There was a thump, followed by a piercing scream.
Nora jerked awake, sweat prickling on her brow. The heat in her room had mercifully lessened, and at some point during the night, she’d fallen asleep. A small miracle.
Her dreams were blurry and half-remembered. Had she dreamed? Was the scream part of the dream?
Margaret, she thought, panic curling its cold hands around her heart, squeezing it. I dreamed about Margaret.
In fact, she had dreamed about more than Margaret.
Creighton had slipped into her dreams, with his flashing dark eyes and that wry, amused smile.
She dreamed of his large, warm, clever hands, and in her dreams, he ran them over her, his skin hot even through the thin fabric of her nightgown.
That part of her dream was somewhat hazy, barely remembered, but she could still recall the feeling it evoked.
The longing, the need, so intense it almost embarrassed her.
But that was gone now. That was then, and right now somebody had screamed in the hallway outside her room. It was night, it was quiet, and she was alone.
She scrambled into a sitting position, hurrying to light the candle waiting at her bedside.
The flame sparked and flared, filling the room with a buttery yellow light.
She sat still, breathing heavily, straining her ears.
Then a low, thin scratch came at the door.
The doorknob jiggled, filling Nora’s mouth with the acrid taste of fear.
“Who is it?” she called, not quite able to keep the tremble out of her voice. “Go away. I could have half a dozen guards here just by shoutin’ for them. Go away.”
Lies, of course. She was truly alone. For some reason, her mind conjured an image of Creighton, leaning against the wall of the Keep balcony, gazing up at the sky as the night breeze tousled his hair.
“Who is it?” she repeated, her voice somewhat strained.
The doorknob rattled again.
“Let me in, Nora,” came a childish, disconsolate voice.
Laurie!
Nora scrambled out of bed, throwing back the covers. She was at the door in a moment, unlocking it and yanking it open.
Part of her expected it to be a trick. As if she might open the door and find Laurie there all right, but with a horde of grim-faced soldiers, too.
Maybe they’d be led by Andrew, come to burn her as a witch.
That was silly, of course. And there were no soldiers and no Andrew, just Laurie.
The little girl seemed smaller than before, drowning in an oversized nightgown.
She blinked red-rimmed eyes up at Nora, rubbing her nose with the back of her hand.
“I had a bad dream,” the little girl whispered, hiccupping.
Nora bit her lip. “Oh, poor wee lassie. Where’s yer nurse, or maid? Ye must have one.”
Laurie scowled. “I have a nurse, but she sleeps very heavily. I didnae want to go into the next room to wake her. She willnae like it. She told me once that if I’m bad, a goblin will crawl out from under me bed and eat me.”
Nora fought to hold back a smile. “How awful. Ye didnae believe her, did ye?”
Laurie gave her a scathing look. “Nay, of course nae. But it was bad that she said it.”
“Aye, perhaps so, but… hey!”
Laurie apparently had gotten tired of standing out in the hallway and came diving into Nora’s room.
“I want to sleep in yer bed!” she exclaimed, making a beeline for the bed. With a flying jump, she launched herself into it, giggling with unadulterated glee.
“Nay, nay, Laurie, yer brother might nae like it,” Nora tried, closing the door and hurrying back over to the bed.
“Why nae?” Laurie pouted, already cocooned in the sheets.
“Well, he…” Nora scrambled to find an explanation that would suit a girl of Laurie’s age. “He doesnae want us to get too close, in case the betrothal doesnae work out.”
Laurie went still. “But I thought that the betrothal meant that ye were goin’ to marry Crey.”
“It does. But sometimes… sometimes things happen. Especially since two large clans are involved. And if I had to go home, ye would miss me a lot, would ye nae?” Nora tried. “That would be a shame. Ye would be sad, and I daenae want to make yer sad.”
Laurie considered this.
“I would be sadder if ye did leave after a while, and I never saw ye again, and we never got to play together properly. That would make me sad, that we never tried to be friends because we were afraid of havin’ to go away from each other.”
Nora blinked, finding herself with no good answer to this.
Of course, the most meaningful words I’ve heard in a long time would come from a bairn.
“I… I suppose ye are right,” she managed.
Laurie carefully loosened herself from her cocoon. “Do ye want me to go back to me room? I will, if ye say that I have to.”
Nora briefly closed her eyes. “Nay, it’s… It’s fine. Ye can stay here. Just daenae kick me in yer sleep, aye?”
“Yay!” Laurie squealed gleefully and dived under the covers, burrowing under the pillows like a little mole. Biting back a smile, Nora clambered in beside her. The bed was large enough, but she had a feeling that Laurie would take up most of the space anyhow.
“I used to let me sister come and sleep in the bed with me when we were small,” Nora said to the ceiling. Beside her, Laurie stilled her wriggling. “She would have nightmares sometimes, too. I always told her to tell me about them, to make her feel better.”
“Did it work?”
“Sometimes.”
Laurie considered this.
“I was too hot,” she said at last. “When I went to sleep. I asked me nurse to open the window, but she said that the night air has bad vapors in it. Is that true?”
Nora pursed her lips. “Nay, that’s an old wives’ tale. I go out in the night all the time, and so does yer brother. Night air is just a wee bit colder, that’s all.”
Laurie nodded, seemingly satisfied with that explanation. “I dreamed about Ma. Ma’s dead, ye ken.”
“Aye, I ken that. And yer da, too.”
The little girl pulled a face. “I didnae like Da. He was always shoutin’, always angry at somebody. He was always angry at Crey.”
“I can imagine that,” Nora muttered.
“But they’re gone now. I liked Ma, though. She would put me on her knee and tell me stories. I miss her, sometimes.”
“I’m sorry, pet.”
Laurie shrugged. “Crey says I’ll forget them when I grow up. I daenae want to forget them.”
“I think yer brother only tells ye that because he thinks it will give ye comfort. I think it gives him comfort. So, daenae worry. It’s up to ye whether ye keep somebody in yer head and heart when ye get older. Ye daenae have to forget yer parents, nae if ye daenae want to.”
“Ma,” Laurie corrected firmly. “I daenae want to forget Ma.” Already, her eyelids were fluttering, growing heavier. In a few moments, she’d be sound asleep. “And I willnae forget ye, either,” Laurie added, her eyes closing entirely. “Nae even if ye do want me to.”
Before Nora could respond, the little girl’s head lolled on the pillow, and that was that. She was asleep. Nora lay still for a moment, watching her breathe quietly.
She’s so much like Margaret at that age.
A strand of hair stuck to the sweat on Laurie’s forehead. Frowning, Nora reached forward, pushing it back. The little girl shifted in her sleep, but did not stir.
I’ll have to explain this in the morning to Creighton, nay doubt, Nora thought tiredly, closing her own eyes. But that’s a problem for tomorrow.
This time, when she fell asleep, she didn’t dream.
“It’s as I thought. She’s in here!”
Nora was jolted awake for the second time that night.
Ripped from a deep sleep, she let out a disoriented gurgle, flailing at nothing in particular.
The sheets felt damp and tangled around her limbs.
Blinking, she came to the slow realization that there were candles in her room, too many candles, burning her eyes.
A figure leaned over her, and her eyes adjusted sharply.
Black hair, dark eyes, heavy, low brows. A sense of annoyance.
“Creighton,” she managed hoarsely. “What time is it? And what are ye doing in me room?”
There were more people behind him. She recognized Theo, the man who was called Dallas, and Andrew, of course, fingering his cross. A middle-aged woman in gray stood there too, quietly dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief.
“It’s four o’clock in the morning,” Creighton responded tightly, leaning back. “Laurie’s nurse awoke to find her missin’. We’ve had half the Keep up in a panic before it occurred to me that she might be here.”
Nora swallowed, a twinge of guilt smarting in the back of her mind. Clearing her throat, she pushed herself up into a sitting position and reached out to the tangle of blankets beside her.
“Here she is,” she mumbled, and tugged back the blankets.
Laurie did not stir. She was curled into a ball, her back facing Nora, her face turned toward the wall.
“She had a bad dream,” Nora managed, clearing her throat. “I just let her come into bed with me. Me sister did it all the time.”
Creighton blinked at the mention of Nora’s sister.
Perhaps like her, he was thinking about the conversation they’d had, probably only a few hours ago.
She noticed that he was wearing what he had on the balcony—a loose shirt and a kilt, nothing that a person would sleep in—and wondered if he’d tried to go to bed at all.
“Kidnapping me sister is nae a good way to get me to help ye, lass,” he murmured, leaning down toward her.
She reddened. “I didnae kidnap her. Ye cannae seriously believe that…”
“I am teasin’ ye again, lass. Ye take the bait every time.” He straightened up with a sigh. “Wake her, she’s to go back to her room. And in future, I’d thank ye to take me sister back to her nurse if she comes callin’, aye?”
“Aye,” Nora muttered reluctantly. She leaned over, tapping Laurie’s shoulder. “Wake up, lassie.”
The little girl gave a tiny, almost imperceptible moan, but did not stir. Frowning, Nora shook her harder. She should have woken by now. Frowning, Nora shifted up onto her knees, leaning over the girl. Gently, she rolled Laurie onto her back.