Free A Candle in the Dark by Megan Chance Page A

beginning of the journey. The excitement that surged through her made her forget Jiméne’s anger.
The beginning
. At last. The ship was her escape, but once she set foot in Central America, she would truly feel everything was behind her.
    Even New York. That night with Benjamin Whitehall had only been eight days ago, and yet it felt like another life, another time. Rosalie would have given up the search by now, Ana was sure. She was safe as long as she stayed out of New York, and since she’d intended to do that anyway, it was hardly an inconvenience.
    Certainly there was no one she minded leaving behind. In the seedy quarter of the city called Five Points, friendships were temporary, usually ended by violence and death. Before long, even Rosalie would forget her, and with her memory would go Ana’s life in the city. It would be as if Anastasia, alias the Duchess, had never existed.
    The thought made her sad for only a moment. She would start over in San Francisco, create another identity, a woman more in control of her life than the Duchess had ever been. A woman who didn’t need anyone.
    “Everyone needs someone, Anastasia.”
    Ana closed her eyes. Her skin felt hot suddenly, she tried to swallow the dry, tight lump in her throat. She heard her mother’s voice as clearly as if she were standing there. “
The only people to pity, my darling, are those who are alone
.”
    Ana had believed that once. Once, when the little shanty house had been fall of light and hope and joy. When her mother had been beautiful, happy,
sane
.
    Ana opened her eyes and looked down at her feet.
    Forever ago. That fairy-tale life had turned into a horror story so long ago she wondered if the memories were really hers. She remembered an icy winter night, lugging home a bucket of precious water that was nearly frozen while Mama told the story of how she and Ana’s father had first met, how they’d danced and whispered perfumed intimacies, how they’d counted the stars in the Duvants’ garden while the musicians in the ballroom began the first strains of a waltz.
We knew we loved each other then. When he comes for us, darling
—
oh, you’ll see what a fine dancer your father was
!
    Ana clenched her jaw. As a child, she’d memorized the things Mama told her about her father. A fine dancer. A handsome man. A lover of fine horseflesh. She knew him—oh, yes, she knew him.
    But he had never bothered to know her, and the older she got, the more she told herself she didn’t care. As the years went on, and she watched her mother going slowly mad waiting for him, Ana realized she finally, truly
didn’t
care, didn’t give a damn about him at all.
    That was when the loneliness started, the sense of being completely alone. Now the feeling never went away. She told herself it didn’t matter. It was a small price to pay for guaranteeing she would never be like her mother. Loneliness, vulnerability, would never destroy her that way, and the bitter memory of what her mother had become kept Ana strong, kept her from depending on anyone, or caring too much. No one had ever made her feel differently.
    By the time her mother died, Ana learned to feel nothing. Not even love. Only pity and the will to survive. Only that. Loneliness was easy to ignore when she thought of the alternative.
    The thought swelled inside her, and Ana shivered, hugging herself as a sudden chill went through her, consuming her until she stood there shaking. Lonely, yes, she could be lonely. She had been for years, she was used to it. She understood it. In a way she even needed it.
    But in the back of her mind, she heard the faint strains of a waltz, heard the laughter of two people standing in a garden, counting the stars.
    And she couldn’t stop shaking.
     
    “Watch it!”
    Jeb Wilson crashed into Cain, sending him stumbling over a trunk. With effort, he caught himself. His head pounded as he tried to move out of the way. He cracked his shin on the corner. “Damn!”
    Jeb