Free Patricia Veryan - [Sanguinet Saga 09] - Logic Of The Heart by Patricia Veryan Page A

took their toll, the insidious roots of creepers,
the invasion of insects proved once again their superiority over the
works of man, and early in the eighteenth century the rugged walls of
the Folly at last began to crumble away. Now, all that remained were
two ivy-covered half walls and assorted stone blocks scattered around
the yawning pit that once had been the cellar.
    Lost in thought, Montclair had not noticed his proximity to
the Folly, and might have wandered past it had he not begun to be
annoyed by something that felt like a stone in his boot. He was still
carrying the branch he'd taken up when Soldier came at him, and he
tossed it on a small heap of the blocks, sat beside it, and began to
pull off his boot. He stopped abruptly when he heard a woman singing.
The voice was thin and high pitched, the words indistinguishable, the
melody set in a minor key and having some resemblance to a monastic
chant.
    The hairs on the back of Montclair's neck started to lift and
a chill crept over his skin. With a pang of dread he thought that it
was probably his illness plaguing him again, causing his mind to play
him false, but he picked up his branch, tightened his grip on it, and
walked slowly towards the great glooming ruins.

Chapter 4
    The singing faded away. Had it ever really been a sound
outside his own head? Was he getting worse? Perhaps his family would
soon be building a Folly for him… Revolted by this lapse into
self-pity, he gritted his teeth and decided to have a closer look, just
in case there
was
something more substantial than
his erratic mind. He gave a gasp as the song rang out once more, much
closer now, and accompanied this time by another voice raised in an
unearthly wailing that turned his bones to water.
    "Woe, woe, woe, woe.
I will go
And when I'm dead
He'll hang his head
And wish that I
Am here instead
Woe, woe, woe, woe!"
    He hadn't imagined all that! He felt the blood drain from his
face. "Dear God!" he whispered, and stood motionless, quite incapable
of taking another step.
    The dark walls towered above him. The mournful wind wailed
softly and set the branches rustling. The air seemed to have become icy.
    An oddly penetrating voice wailed, "Who comes to my tower?"
    He sent a swift glance around the clearing. He was quite
alone. So there really
was
a ghost! He knew he
was behaving like a spineless coward, but his one thought was to run.
He obeyed the impulse, spun about, took a long stride, collided with
something, and a piercing screech rang out. The trees seemed to ripple
before his eyes.
    "Now see what you've gone and done!"
    The voice came from the ground at his feet. He looked down and
relief was overwhelming.
    A small girl lay sprawled on her back, looking up at him
reproachfully.
    "Oh—Jupiter…" he gasped.
    Her solemn little face was framed by a lopsided sun-bonnet
from which untidy dark brown curls strayed erratically. A bent pair of
spectacles hung from one ear, and two big grey eyes frowned at him. "I
'spect you're prayering to be forgived," she said. "While you're
talking to the angels you better ask my papa to help me. You hurt me.
Very bad."
    "I'm so sorry." He knelt beside her and retrieved the
spectacles. "I didn't know you were there."
    "Yes you did. You heered me singing and comed. I creeped round
and hid 'hind you, just a'case."
    She seemed remarkably self-possessed for such a small girl.
"Just in case—what?" he asked.
    "Just a'case you were bad. Are you bad?" She hooked the
spectacles around her ears and scanned him, her head tilting, her face
anxious as she awaited his reply.
    He thought, 'She can't be much more than five or six.'
    "I don't think so," he answered, smiling at her. "At least, I
try not to be. Sometimes, I'm afraid, I don't try hard enough."
    A moment longer those grave eyes searched his face, then all
at once she beamed sunnily. "I know," she said, sitting up. "When you
hasn't tried hard enough to be good, you have to make 'mends. So I'll
rest here and be brave,