Midnight Embrace Read Online Free PDF Page B

Sometimes she wandered the grounds.
    There was an ice house and a milk cellar, and on the far side of the barn there was a dovecote. She had heard of them but never seen one, and she spent one morning exploring it. The ground floor was used for storing grain and feed, the upper level was filled with nests. The birds, and there must have been hundreds of them, were let out during the day and flew home at night. She didn't like to think of them being raised for food, but Cook's pigeon pie was simply too good to refuse. Still, after seeing the lovely birds, she did not ask for it often.
    She explored the barn, too, taking time to pet the beautiful horses. She always took a handful of carrots or a couple of apples to feed them. She was especially fond of a pretty little gray mare that whinnied a welcome each time Analisa entered the barn. There was a brown and white cow with big brown eyes, a half dozen curly-haired sheep, a pair of goats, dozens of chickens, an arrogant rooster.
    At two, she met Mrs. Thornfield in the library to study the day's lessons. She took tea at four, and then went walking in the vast flower gardens if the weather was fair, or, if the day was stormy, she curled up in front of the fire, listening to the rain. She loved books, loved to take a new one from the shelf each day and slowly turn the pages, picking out the words she knew, trying to sound out the ones that were unfamiliar to her.
    Evenings were sometimes difficult. Often, while sitting alone in front of the hearth, she thought of her parents and her brothers, wishing they could be there with her. It would have been so wonderful to see her mother clad in a fine dress, with servants to attend her; to see her father sitting at the head of the table, the lines of worry gone from his brow; to share her lessons with her brothers, see their delight as they learned their numbers and letters.
    Her life would have been almost perfect had it not been for the nightmares that continued to plague her.
    Every night she woke in a cold sweat, tormented by the sensation of being buried alive, of feeling the earth crushing her, of fighting for breath. She tried to brush it off, attributing it to being a stranger in a strange place, but the dream came more and more often, until she was afraid to close her eyes, afraid to go to sleep.
    Mrs. Thornfield was the first to notice that something was wrong. "Are you ill, child?" she asked one morning.
    "No," Analisa replied, smothering a yawn. "Why do you ask?"
    "You have looked rather peaked these past few days. Are you sure you're quite well?"
    "Yes, I'm sure."
    "You must tell me if something is amiss," the housekeeper said, frowning. "My Lord Alesandro will be most displeased if he returns and finds that you…" She took a deep breath, as if she was aware of saying more than she should.
    "I'm quite well, truly," Analisa said. "It's just that I haven't been sleeping well."
    "The bed is not to your liking?"
    "Oh, no, it's most comfortable. It's just that…"
    "Yes?"
    "Well, I've been having the most disturbing dreams."
    "I shall bring you a cup of hot milk," Mrs. Thornfield said, obviously relieved that Analisa's wan look was the result of nothing more serious than a lack of sleep.
    Later that night, after drinking a cup of hot tea laced with milk and honey, Analisa sat in a chair by the window, gazing out into the night, wondering how long she would be allowed to stay before the master of the house returned. Where would she go then? Though she had been in the manor only a matter of weeks, she was rapidly growing accustomed to having servants wait on her. How easily she had grown used to being waited on, she mused; to having her meals prepared for her, someone to make her bed, draw her bath, dress her hair. She had no responsibilities, no duties, no worries. She had only to say she wished for something, and it was hers. But the master's return would quickly put an end to that, and she would be on her own again, with no place