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Chapter Eight: Blood Moon by Rosaline Saul



BACK INSIDE THE house, Maggie sat down at the table again, mainly because her legs were shaking. Surely, an after effect of the fever. She asked Cathy, “Why did you accept his invitation? It is not as if we move in the same social circles, and besides, it is a long way away. We cannot exactly go on the horse-cart.”

“The Count is aware of the situation and is sending a coach for us.” Cathy sighed delightedly. “He plans for every situation.”

Maggie looked up at her with disdain. One invitation and Cathy suddenly pretended to know everything about him.

“I do not think Father will be as pleased as you are.”

“Your father will be pleased. He enjoys having an intellectual conversation with people of any standing. Frankly, Maggie, I feel offended you think we are not good enough to be invited to dinner by the Count.”

Maggie sighed. “That is not what I meant.”

“Why are you home anyway? Why have you left your employ? It was such a good position. Many girls were envious of you when Lord Richard took you on, instead of them.” Cathy continued her monologue, not actually giving Maggie any opportunity to speak.

Maggie wanted to discuss it when her father was present anyway. She wanted him to hear her story directly from her, rather than hear it second-hand from Cathy.  She still did not know if she would tell them the honest truth of her dismissal. She felt embarrassed by it. As if it was all her fault.

Maggie tuned into Cathy's voice again when she heard her plan, “In the morning we will go to London and buy a dress for you to wear. Something that will show you to your best advantage.”

Maggie was taken aback. “I have a dress that will do.”

Cathy tutted. “When being invited to the Count's house, it is not a matter of making do.”

“I do not know what you are thinking, but...”

“At his age, he is still not married, and I think it will be good for you to be admired by an attractive man.”

Maggie was so shocked, she had nothing to say.

“You have passed your eligible marriage age, and you do not want to be a spinster, now do you?”

“I am sorry, Mother, but the Count is the last man in the world I will ever marry. I have no wish to attract any of his attention. Also, he has already chosen a wife.”

“There has been no formal announcement. No formal engagement.” She sighed with exasperation. “In your unwed shoes, Maggie, I would not hesitate.”


AT SUPPER THAT evening, with the excitement of the invitation and with her already being at home for a week, her father spoke with her as if he did not need any explanation of why she decided to come home. By now, he had probably heard the reasons, whatever reasons there were to tell. He most probably even knew she had been held in a cell for a couple of hours, even though she was not guilty of committing any crime. He pretended as if nothing untoward had happened.

After supper, despite her tiredness, Maggie could not fall asleep straight away. Frustratingly sleep eluded her until the early morning hours.

It was a dark shadow-eyed girl who joined her parents in the living area the next morning. Maggie was glad though. If the plan she had formulated just before she eventually dropped off to sleep was to work, she needed to look as if she was on death's door.

“Are you unwell, Maggie?” John asked worried, after giving her one look. “You are very pale this morning. You should have stayed in bed and recovered fully first before hoeing the vegetable garden yesterday.” He gave Cathy an admonishing look.

“I will be fine.” Maggie smiled a brave smile.

“You have not forgotten we are going to London today?” Cathy asked.

“I am looking forward to it.” Her plan will never work if she made Cathy suspicious. She will just have to make sure Cathy did not spend too much money on a dress they could barely afford. She would then feel guilty beyond reproach.

After breakfast, they went to London on the horse-cart. The road was bumpy and uneven. Maggie considered she would rather walk the distance there and back than feel the wooden bench under her vibrate through her spine right into the base of her neck.

In the city, Cathy chose her dress for her. When Maggie fitted it, she was dismayed how much the square neckline revealed of her bosom. The bodice moulded itself to her figure, clinging to her waist and sweeping out in full skirts from her hips.

“I cannot wear this. It is too expensive.” Maggie complained, but her protests fell on deaf ears.

As soon as they got home, Maggie said in a feeble voice, “I am feeling a little dizzy. I think I should lay down for a minute or two.”

Cathy looked at her worried.

Maggie rushed from the room and felt like a wretch. It was for a good cause, she convinced herself. There was absolutely no way she was going to go to Manor Burke for dinner tonight. She could always wear the dress again. It is not as if the money spent on the dress would be completely wasted.

When her father got home, Maggie put on an even better show of pretending to feel ill. “Maybe it is from sitting in the sun today on the cart when we went to London, and with me still recovering from the fever.” Maggie grimaced.

“It is such a pity because Cathy was really looking forward to this dinner, but if you are ill, we cannot take the chance it might turn for the worse. I'll have a message sent to the manor to inform them we will not be attending.”

Maggie lifted herself onto her elbows and groaned, “There is no need for you and Mother to miss the dinner. Please. I insist you still go. I shall stay here and rest. I am sure tomorrow I will be completely healed. My body just needs the rest.”

“We cannot leave you. Not if you are ill. We must take care of you.”

“I will be sleeping. The only thing you will be doing is watching me sleep and Mother was so excited today about the invitation. It is all she spoke about. I would feel even worse if she had to miss it.” Her father tried to protest, but Maggie insisted. “I know you are interested to see what the manor looks like from the inside and to see how many books he has in his library. If he even has a library. You can tell me all about it tomorrow. Besides, you can give the Count my sincerest regrets.”

“Only if you are sure, Maggie.”

“I am sure, Father. Really, I am.”

Her parents went to get dressed, and Maggie was waiting impatiently for their coach to arrive and for them to leave so that her miraculous recovery could occur. She was getting bored laying in the bed with absolutely nothing to do but stare up at the wooden beams spanning the one side of her room to the other. She was tired from hardly any sleep the night before, but she was not tired enough to just drop off to sleep. 

She was planning to go on a long walk through the fields once her parents had gone. The exercise and fresh air will send her off to a peaceful sleep, and when her parents returned later this evening, they will find her genuinely asleep, and not this pretend sleep she was trying to accomplish right now.

She heard the coach arrive and then she heard a knock at the front door. 

Her father opened the door, and then she heard the Count’s voice. Did he come to fetch them personally? She pulled the covers up to her chin and closed her eyes. If Cathy or her father came in to say, “Good night,” they would think she was fast asleep and leave her undisturbed.

She heard their voices in the living area and then there was a tap on her bedroom door. She heard three sets of footsteps enter her bedroom, but she kept her eyes closed and tried really, really hard to keep her breathing steady and slow. She could not believe he had to come into her room to see if she was really asleep. She was not conforming to his will and it must be infuriating for him. He was not used to not getting his way.

“Poor child,” Cathy said. “She is fast asleep.”

“So, it seems,” Joseph said. It sounded as if there was a note of amusement in the tone of his voice.

Cathy apologised, “She was so distressed, and she really looked forward to attending tonight.”

John added, “However, as Cathy explained to you yesterday, she had been ill the whole week since she arrived here on Monday evening. She should have stayed in bed until at least after the weekend. There has been just too much excitement for her frail immunity to handle after such a bad bout of the fever.”

Joseph said, “Then I must make sure there are more opportunities for her to visit Manor Burke. You must let me know if she continues to be ill because, as I am sure you know, I have a keen interest in Alchemy, and I can recommend a couple of different elixirs. Perhaps, for now, we should go and leave her to rest.”

She sensed him standing beside her bed, staring down at her. She could feel his eyes burning on her skin. She could feel the warmth of him. He was waiting for her to betray the fact she was not asleep. The knowledge of him so close to her made her skin tingle.

He said in a low voice, “I will torment you no longer, sleep well.”

She almost gasped aloud when his hand smoothed a lock of hair from her forehead. Then he held her chin between his thumb and his forefinger, gently turning her head on the pillow, and kissed her on her forehead.

It took all her self-control not to jump up and slap him hard across his cheek. Instead, she kept her eyes tightly shut until she heard the sound of horse hoofs and the roll of coach wheels. Then only did she sit up and relax every tense muscle in her body.


Continue reading Chapter 9/17







Copyright © Rosaline Saul. All Rights Reserved. 
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