Page 63 of House of Roots and Ruin
“It’s not dreams and it’s not the laurel,”the voice insisted, sounding uncannily like the weeping woman.“It’s only ever been you.”
I took a great swallow of water, choking back the scream fighting to break out.
Gerard could never know. Any of it. I couldn’t risk my relationship with Alex, my place at Chauntilalie, the very security of my future over this.
I couldn’t.
“I can’t remember,” I lied, then took another gulp of water.
“There must be something,” he insisted, a strange light growing in his eyes. “It seemed to affect you so strongly. You can tell me, Verity. Even if it’s just a fragment of memory.” His hand fell over mine, covering it with the appearance of concern.
I shook my head. “There’s nothing. Truly.”
“You called out several times.”
I shrugged helplessly.
“You spoke to someone. You seemed afraid of them.” He squeezed my fingers, his grip unusually tight.
“I wasn’t…I can’t remember.” I felt pinned in place, unable to break free of his grasp or from his fervent gaze. “Gerard, you’re hurting me,” I gasped.
Instantly, he released his hold. “I’m…I’m so sorry, Verity. I’m not sure what came over me.” He pushed back a lock of hair. “Perhaps I breathed in too much of the laurel myself….” He reached out as if to smooth away any lingering pain in my hand but then froze, thinking the better of it. “I’m deeply sorry.”
“It’s all right,” I said, trying to hide away the quiver I felt. “It’s been a strange day for everyone.”
He nodded gratefully. “Indeed. Indeed.”
“I should like to return to my rooms now,” I said, struggling to stand up from the chaise.
“Of course, yes. I’ll escort you there,” he offered, jumping to his feet and lending out an arm.
“No,” I said hastily. “I…I know you’ve so much work that needs tending to. And…you’ll want to air out the greenhouse more, of course.”
Gerard looked chagrined. “Of course. Of course, yes. I will make sure to do that.”
I took an unsteady step from him. Then another. “Good. Thank you.” I was two steps up the terrace before he stopped me.
“Verity.”
The sound of my name on his lips, an exact echo of how Eulalie had spoken it, made me wince.
How had I remembered Eulalie’s voice?
I turned.
“If you do remember anything, you’ll let me know, won’t you?”
A flurry of trembles fluttered through me and despite the heat of the day, I suddenly felt painfully cold. “Of course,” I lied.
Gerard smiled and turned back toward the greenhouse.
My rooms were blessedly free of servants when I returned, feeling as though I were shaking apart from the inside.
“Water,” I muttered, coaching myself through the rising panic welling within me. My throat felt dry all the way down to my stomach. With trembling hands, I poured a tall glass from my bedside pitcher and chugged it back fast, not stopping until it was empty. “More.”
I imagined the water running down my throat and pushing the last of the laurel nightmare from me, cleaning away any remaining traces of that wicked woman.
Still, it wasn’t enough.
