Page 8 of Once Upon an Enchanted Castle

She got to her feet and picked up the book he gifted her. “I think I’ll read for a while in the study, if that’s all right with you.”

“Don’t stay up too late.” He kissed her cheek and then headed out of the dining room.

Clutching the book to her chest, she left the dining room behind and headed to the study where her inks and parchments were in the hopes she could begin translating this odd book.

Chapter 3

Thegrandfatherclockinthe hallway chimed the midnight hour. Bella crumpled another piece of paper and tossed it in the wastebasket, the frustration edging through her. Her fingers were stained with ink even more than they were earlier that day. She’d wasted several sheets of parchment in her attempts to translate the book. The candles had nearly burned down to a nub as she sat at the desk in the gloom trying to translate the language on the pages before her.

She so far had no luck.

Stretching her arms over her head, she yawned and then rose from the chair and walked toward the wall of windows on the west side of the study. The other walls of the room hosted floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. She and her father were both book lovers and enjoyed getting lost within the pages of a good story.

At the window, she parted the gossamer curtain and peered out at the night. Since the study was on the second floor, the view was across the rooftops down toward the harbor. The harbor lights twinkled across the smooth water. There was not a soul in sight. It was quiet at this time of night as the shops were closed and the sailors who lived in port had returned to their homes. Others were snoozing on the decks of the ships under the stars.

How lovely to sleep under the stars in the cool night air.

As she stood at the window, thinking about the language in the book she was unable to translate, movement in the shadows caught her eye. At first she thought it was nothing more than a vagrant staggering through the streets near the port, but then she realized it was someone moving from shadow to shadow. No, not someone. Something.

How odd.

From her distance, she was unable to make out what or who it was moving through the streets. She pressed her face against the cool glass as if that would help her see whatever it was clearer. When she breathed out, she fogged the glass in front of her face. Stepping back, she used the sleeve of her gown to wipe it away.

When she peered back into the street, the shadow figure was gone.

Turning from the widow, she decided it was nothing more than her imagination. She walked back to the desk and closed the book. As she scooped it up, she blew out the candles and, with a yawn, headed to bed.

Her footsteps were light as she headed down the hallway to her room. Emmaline had left her nightgown at the foot of the bed. The blankets were turned back. A long candle flickered in its candleholder on the bedside table.

Bella placed the hefty tome on the bedside table by the candle. She wished Emmaline was there to help her out of her dress. Likely the girl was sleeping. She didn’t want to wake her, but she was too tired to wiggle out of her gown herself. With a yawn, she kicked off her shoes and slipped into the bed still fully dressed. She blew out the candle and then curled around the pillow. Before long, she was fast asleep.

The acrid smell woke her. The back of her throat burned. In her sleep haze, she was unable to decide what that was.

A pounding on her bedroom door jarred her. She sat up straight, her heart ramming hard in her chest as she realized smoke seeped under the door.

“Bella, wake up!”

It was her father’s frantic voice. Before she was able to respond, the door flew open.

“We have to go at once.” He waved for her to hurry out of the room.

She heard shouts somewhere in the house. “What is it? What’s happening?”

“The house is on fire. Hurry. We haven’t much time.”

He waved to her again, this time stepping into the room and holding out his hand. He held a handkerchief in his other hand pressed against his mouth and nose.

Bella sprang from the bed, thankful she was still dressed, and her shoes were nearby. She started for the door, then halted and turned back wondering what, if anything, she should grab. There simply wasn’t enough time to save all her things.

“Bella,” he urged, his voice near frantic.

Then she saw the mysterious book on the bedside table. On impulse, she snatched it, cradling it against her chest and dashed from the room after her father. The hallway quickly filled with smoke. She covered her mouth and nose with her sleeve as she made her way to the staircase. The foyer was full of smoke, but the front door was open making a square of light through the haze.

She headed for it and stumbled outside into the yard. Outside, Emmaline and the butler stood in the street looking up at the house. She stumbled along next to her father as they joined them, then turned to see the flames beginning to engulf their home. They were all out of the house safely and that was all that mattered. Still, it was difficult to stop the feeling of horrific loss from pounding through her.

It was a horrible thing to watch their lives burn to the ground. There wasn’t much anyone could do to stop it. The volunteer firefighters came, certainly, but buckets of water tossed onto the raging inferno was not enough to extinguish it.

When the fire was finally out, the constable arrived to question them all. Her father had retired for the evening. Gerald secured the house before turning in and Emmaline was abed by the time Bella left the library. She thought of the eerie shadowy figure she saw creeping through the port, but she said nothing to the constable about it.

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