Free Darker Still by Leanna Renee Hieber Page A

itself to be possible. It was just like I’d dreamed; I had slipped into a fantastical world only Collins or Poe would believe, and there indeed I had my voice.
    “What was he like, really, in that moment?” Mrs. Northe asked.
    A glimmer in her eye reminded me that Mrs. Northe had surely once been young and in love. Once she’d cavorted and danced with men like Denbury in fine society. Once she too had been rendered breathless by beauty. Her expression said all this, and her simple question held wistful echoes. I began to sign, attempting to keep my flattery—and my blushes—within reason.
    “He’s so…compelling. And a true gentleman. He wants to continue his studies in medicine and open his own practice. Despite his youth he’s already opened a clinic in London he seems quite passionate about. Why would anyone want to harm him? But then again, I hardly know the truth of his character.” How could I judge someone’s character when I wasn’t sure whom I had met, a man or a phantom? “Regardless, he’s magnificent,” I added, my blush rising to the tips of my ears. Mrs. Northe’s eyes continued to sparkle. “But the strangest thing of all is that there’s a familiarity—as if we know each other. And yet, of course, we don’t…”
    She shrugged and again spoke as if the oddest things were obvious. “Remember when I told you that you’d know when people were meant to enter your life? When they do, those persons seem oddly familiar at first glance.” I bit my lip. He and I were meant to meet.
    Mrs. Northe rose to her feet. “You must come to call again, Natalie, and soon. We cannot leave that poor boy trapped, and I pledge to assist in every way I am able.”
    I stared at her. My hands flew in signing a blunt question: “Why are you so kind to me?”
    Mrs. Northe stared directly back at me. “Because I was told to be.”
    “By whom?”
    She smiled enigmatically, dodging the question. “Running from fate will be of no use. Magic will follow.”
    I let the matter alone, rose, and embraced her. We were suddenly sisters in a supernatural bond, too overwhelmed to do anything but agree to the compact. Neither of us could deny the impossible. We had crossed a point of no return.
    And as I write these words, I keep trying to reassure myself that the man I met inside a magical world isn’t evil. He’s panicked, maddened, desperate…but not evil. Surely not?
    Sitting here on my sill, looking out into the dark New York night, with its roving spots of light and life down the avenue, it is all I can do to behave normally until I am able to see Lord Denbury again, no matter if it’s dangerous. Until I can speak again. Until life is magical again. Yes, I partly fear the unknown, the magical, the supernatural. But when pitted against excited resolve, fear is outmatched.

June 11
    If one could gain royalty through nightmares, then I would be crowned queen.
    Though I have suffered from nightmares as long as I can remember, none have been so vivid. I don’t usually note every detail, yet those atrocious visions will remain emblazoned upon my mind.
    The first thing I remember is walking through a door. Suddenly I was in Denbury’s study, his prison. He looked as dashing as ever, if a bit tired. He turned to me in shock as the door through which I’d entered closed behind me.
    “Miss Stewart!”
    “Hello, Lord Denbury,” I murmured, the sound of my voice still strange in my ears. I’ve often been able to speak in my dreams, so this was no additional shock, yet Denbury stared at me and then at the door.
    “How did you do that?” he exclaimed.
    “What do you mean?”
    “Come through the door. I’ve tried, but…” He strode to the door, extended his hand, and tried the knob. But red and gold sparks crackled around the edges of the door. Denbury’s portrait frame crackled too, fire racing around the edges in warning and leaving glowing traces of something strange. Wincing, he pulled away, his hand clearly