Page 5 of Charlotte's Story
My mouth fell open. He was postponing the trip because Lady Catherine asked to speak with him? I’d known his dedication to her was a touch… fanatical, but I hadn’t realized it was this bad. Still, I couldn’t complain since this would give me extra time to unpack and prepare for the mayor’s order.
“I completely understand.” I gave him a serene smile. “I’d hate to cause any sort of discord between you and Lady Catherine.”
His answering smile came a moment late. “I knew you would understand.”
Just like that, I was free.
He headed out the back door and down the small forest path where someone had strung Christmas lights and glowing silver string overhead. It illuminated the way to Rosings Park and lent the trail a magical glow.
There was too much restless energy flowing through me to go to sleep yet, especially in a place so alien. Before I could settle in here, I needed to make it feel more like home.
Since it was still snowing outside, I placed a few pieces of wood in the enchanted brick fireplace and said, “Fire on.” Just like Firth warned, a small flame burst to life, snapping and crackling cheerfully. I rummaged through a few boxes until I found the kettle ChiyoObasansent from Japan and my favorite mug for a calming cup of peppermint green tea—her special blend.
With our marriage behind us, I was one step closer to my shop. I already had a tentative agreement with the shop owner on Main Street. Now that I’d soon get the money, I might be able to get it up and running before Christmas. I’d already mapped it out—candles, chocolates, crafts, and a tea nook with a Japanese zen garden tucked in the back.
While my tea heated and I fantasized about my shop, I tossed a red blanket over the couch, grabbed a pillow for the rocking chair, and added cozy touches wherever I could—a snowing enchanted globe on the mantle, fairy lights across the ceiling, and a washi paper lantern glowing softly on Firth’s bookshelf of religious texts next to a framed piece of calligraphy I’d done as a kid. I even hung up the pair of Christmas stockings Firth had bought, although once I did, the two socks scooted until they sat on opposite ends of the mantle. I shook my head at them and looked around. The room still smelled faintly like bachelor, but it was starting to feel like mine. I changed into my pajamas, got ready for bed, and unearthed one of my books from a box to read by the fire before bed.
Before settling onto the couch, I had to flip over a picture of Lady Catherine hanging over the mantle that sniffed every time I walked by. I hated the moving photos, and with her condescending eyes on me, it was impossible to settle in. Even if Firth did admire her, the life-size picture was too much.
Once done, I grabbed my tea, wrapped the throw around me, blew out the candle, and settled in front of the fire. As I snuggled under my fuzzy blanket, I could pretend I was home again, falling asleep in front of the fireplace in Mrs. Bate’s basement while Lizzy typed up a story next to me. For a few chapters, I lost myself in another world.
Until a scream shattered the silence.
I jolted upright and pulled the blanket tight around me.
What was that?
My heart pounded in my chest, but I forced myself to leave the comfort and security of the couch. I walked to the window to peek outside, clutching the blanket around me like a lifeline. In the dark, it was hard to make anything out.
With a shaking hand, I pulled a pair of old boots sitting by the door on over my fuzzy wool socks and eased the sliding glass door open. The brisk air smelled like snow.
Movement in the distance drew my gaze, and I squinted at the line of trees nestled along the edge of the property. A figure moved underneath the branches, illuminated by the cheerful Christmas lights.
My heart jumped to my throat, but I forced myself to take another step forward.
The moon broke free of its covering, bathing the yard in a silvery light. A man knelt under the shelter of the trees while the snow fell softly around him.
“Firth?” I called hesitantly as I recognized the red sweater and jacket.
The man’s head jerked up, confirming my guess.
“Who’s there?”
“It’s me, Charlotte.”
“Why are you here?”
“I heard the scream and…” My attention fell to the shape on the ground beside him—a dark shape, silent and unmoving. The wind picked up, grabbing at my hair and the blanket and rustling the tree branches. It also snagged the skirt of the person lying down, revealing that it was a woman, although I couldn’t make out anything else.
Ice slipped through my veins, and I froze halfway off the porch. “Who is that…”
“I don’t know.” Firth’s eyes were wide as he turned from me back to the shape on the ground. “But she’s dead.”
Chapter 2
Shockpassedthroughme,as chilling as the winter air. “Dead? What do you mean dead?” My voice quavered.
Firth didn’t look away from the body, although the expression smoothed from his face like candle wax as he sat back on his heels. It was like the moment he’d acknowledged that the woman was dead, his mind had shut down.
