Free Lord Melvedere's Ghost by Rebecca King Page A

tremble. Her stomach
churned, and she fought a wave of dizziness so strong that she
wondered for one brief moment if she was going to be sick all over
whoever was trying to get in.
    The door
slowly crept toward her. She had a choice, she could either stand
there and wait for it to hit her, or she could surprise whoever was
on the other side, yank the door open and ask them what they were
doing. She wanted to run over to the huge bed, climb under it and
pretend she wasn’t in. She wanted to run screaming down the
corridor as though the hounds of Hell were nipping at her heels.
Instead, she took a deep breath, grabbed the handle and yanked
hard, dodging around the door as it slammed back against the
wall.
    Her
heart stopped as she stared into the empty space of the corridor.
Stepping into the doorway she glanced up and down the hall, but
could see nothing more than the inky blackness she was really
beginning to loathe.
    Muttering dire imprecations for whoever was playing silly
games, she turned to go back into the room and walked straight into
the closed door. Fumbling for the knob for several moments, she
frantically pushed and twisted for several long minutes before
finally getting her scattered wits about her enough to co-ordinate
her movements and push the door open.
    Heart
pounding, she slammed the door closed again. This time she pushed
the table across the doorway, followed by a huge, heavily
embroidered chair. She didn’t care about the sliding noise it made
against the highly polished floor, or the thumping of the table
against the wall as she adapted its usage to a blockade. If a
servant got up to investigate then they could at least furnish her
with a light.
    With a
shiver, she glanced quickly around the room, swallowed and returned
to the bed, this time climbing between the sheets while still fully
dressed. She would have to apologise to the housekeeper and staff
in the morning, she thought morosely, tugging the covers up over
her head and sending a silent prayer she would still be there in
the morning.
    Despite
her exhaustion, birds were heralding the start of a brand new day
before the growing tendrils of exhaustion finally pulled her into
oblivion.
    Tucked
beneath the covers like a frightened rabbit, she didn’t see the
murky shadow in the far corner of the room disappear silently into
the wall. Or the quiet click of the doorway as it finally
closed.
     
    To begin
with, it didn’t register when she first awoke the following morning
to find a maid quietly moving around the room, setting out a jug of
warm water, soap and towels. At first, Cecily only knew that at
some point during the night she had pulled the sheets down and was
now bathed in glorious morning sunshine. Glorious – warm – morning
sunshine. Now that she thought about it, this was about the first
time she had been warm for several days, and it was a glorious
feeling.
    She
blinked sleepily for several long moments and slowly sat
up.
    “ Oh, hello ma’am,” the young girl murmured, bobbing into a
curtsy. “My name is Doreen and I am your maid. Should you need
anything, just pull the bell over there and I will be up in a
thrice.”
    “ Oh, thank you,” Cecily muttered warily. Her cheeks flushed and
she pushed uncomfortably at her hair.
    “ I have got the wash things ready, but would you prefer a bath?
I can get one set up for you in no time at all,” Doreen offered,
nodding toward the fire roaring heartily in the grate.
    “ I would love one if it isn’t too much trouble,” Cecily
murmured, feeling acutely embarrassed and uncomfortable at having
anyone doing anything for her at all, but she got no further
opportunity to say anymore. As quick as a blink, the girl
disappeared out of the door.
    Cecily
threw her legs over the edge of the bed and studied the grubby
sheets behind her. She really must apologise to the housekeeper for
the mess, she mused, catching sight of the tray of breakfast things
on the table beside the bed.
    Her
stomach