Languish Read Online Free PDF

contact with the frigid floor.
    The ghosts vanished.
    Pain flared in the spot between my eyes. I rubbed it, scowling. “Of course,” I muttered, taking deep breaths until my heart stopped feeling like a housefly battering at a window-pane. “Never a straight answer.”
    I put on a dressing gown and stuffed my bare feet into my boots. I knew I wasn’t going to be going back to sleep anytime soon. There was a mystery here, nibbling on the edge of discovery,like insects in a tree. The harder I tried to find them, the faster they scurried away. I lit a candle and padded softly through the sitting room I shared with Tabitha and out into the hallway.
    The manor house was quiet. Even the housemaids were asleep somewhere in the attic and tucked into the kitchen. I ought to speak with Lord Jasper in the morning. He needed to know that not only was I regaining excruciatingly slow control of my abilities, but he also seemed to be embroiled in some sort of plot.
    I went straight to the library out of long habit. Books were always a comfort, and the Rosefield library was unlike anything I’d ever seen before. I set my candle carefully on a table and then trailed my fingertips over the leather bindings. I smelled lavender again and tensed.
    I turned on my heel, scouring the shadows for spirits. The moon fell on wooden shelves, bell jars encasing orchids, framed paintings, the silver candlesticks on the mantle, and the green chairs set in front. The scent of lavender grew cloying for a moment, sticking to the back of my tongue.
    Now I knew why the woman had smelled familiar.
    The first time I’d stepped into this library, I’d known Lady Jasper used to sit in her green chair every night and drink lavender tea. It had proven to Lord Jasper that my gift was authentic, long before I understood what was happening to me.
    The ghost was Lord Jasper’s dead wife.
    And she wasn’t pleased.
    I was still wondering what it all meant when a face appearedat the window. I threw a book at it, barely registering the dark hair and pale eyes.
    Colin leaned forward to lift the window open. “Why do girls keep throwing things at my head?”
    â€œYou scared me half to death, Colin Lennox,” I returned. I rushed forward to lift the dented book, smoothing out the bent pages as if they were the bruised wings of a bird. “And look what you made me do!” I put the book down carefully, still muttering. “What if that had been
Jane Eyre
?”
    Accustomed to my strange talk of books as if they were living creatures, Colin didn’t comment. He only held out his hand to lead me out of the library. “I have to show you something.” It was then I noticed that the night air had the acrid bite of smoke. The lines of Colin’s face were stark, his jaw tight. “Something’s happening.” His eyes were solemn.
    Nerves flared like embers in my belly as I knotted my nightdress between my knees and threw a bare leg over the window-sill. Colin’s eyes reflected with something else, but he didn’t say anything. He only led me hastily around the side of the manor and over the flagstones.
    â€œAre you all right?” I asked.
    â€œFine,” he replied. “Though I’m beginning to wonder what I’ve done to make horses so cross.”
    We went around the garden wall that protected the kitchen herbs from various animals and into a more decorative wilderness. It had none of the methodical preciseness of the paths and groomed hedges in the formal garden. This was a small, beautiful secret, carefully tended. I’d never seen it before. It wasthick with hollyhocks, lupine, delicate monkshood, and lilac, and peony bushes which must be especially beautiful in spring. It must smell heavenly in this little garden when it didn’t smell like burning flowers. Lavender stalks grew tall as my knees, waving tiny purple blossoms.
    All of which were on fire.
    None of the other