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Midsummer Night. Deanna Raybourn
Читать онлайн.Название Midsummer Night
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781472090461
Автор произведения Deanna Raybourn
Жанр Современная зарубежная литература
Издательство HarperCollins
She gave me a sharp look. “You do not believe.”
I bared my teeth in a smile. “I’ve heard these things before.”
The Gypsy woman dropped my hand as if she had been scalded. “And yet you mock me, lady? You are arrogant. But you will learn to mend your ways.”
“How?” I asked.
She blinked. “How?”
“Yes, how? You speak of darkness and woe and—shadows, was it? Now, how am I supposed to avoid them? With a hefty payment, I suppose? I’ve already told you I have no silver for you.”
She rose, wrapping her shawl about her in spite of the warmth of the day. She lifted a finger and pointed it at my heart. “And I told you I did not want your money. If you wish to avoid tragedy, you must give him up.”
A cold chill struck me then, and I no longer felt flippant.
“Him?”
She gave me a sly look then, cutting her eyes sideways at me as she turned to go. “Him. The one who sits in your heart. He walks with death, lady. And if you choose him, death will touch you, too.”
She was gone, melting away with the same silence with which she had come. The sun still beat down; the breeze still danced in the reeds, bending the wildflowers and teasing the scent of honeysuckle from the throat of the blossoms. But there was a shadow over the afternoon that had not been there before. I rose and dried my feet on my skirts and put on my stockings and slippers and walked slowly back to the Abbey.
1 Silent on the Moor
2 Silent in the Sanctuary
Chapter Two
Time goes on crutches till Love have all his rites.
—Much Ado about Nothing, II.i.352
The encounter with the Gypsy at the river affected me more than I liked to think. I was still preoccupied when I entered the Abbey and made my way upstairs. No sooner had I turned into the bedchamber gallery than I collided heavily with a maid—at least I presumed it was a maid. The girl had ended up squarely on her backside with an armful of clean linen tossed into the air. I could see nothing of her but an enormous mob cap and a pair of wide eyes peeping through the sheets.
“Beggar me, I am sorry, my lady.”
“Do not apologise. I wasn’t looking where I was going. The fault was entirely mine.”
I put out a hand to help her up, but she shrieked and dove under the linen. I smiled.
“No, I suppose that is inappropriate. You must be new here. Marches do not do things the same as other folk,” I told her. The bundle of linen shuddered, and I realised the girl must be well and truly confused to be carrying clean linen to the bedchambers at that time of day. Beds were made in the morning, and the linen cupboard was on another floor entirely. But Hoots had been growing more and more feeble in the head, and there was no telling what instructions he had given to the girl. I made a note to suggest to Aunt Hermia that a housekeeper might prove a useful addition if Hoots were terrorising the maids. The last one had quit in rebellion against his tyrannies, and it was proving harder and harder to keep good staff so long as he was in command.
I gave the girl a friendly smile to put her at her ease. “You must be one of the new girls taken on for the wedding, is that right?”
The bundle nodded.
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