Free Lady and the Wolf by Elizabeth Rose Page B

he was already gone.
     
    * * *
     
    The fire burned on the hearth, and Wolf bent over and looked upward, trying to find a flue or a way for the smoke to exit. He couldn’t find one, though the room was not filled with smoke either. It was fascinating. He wondered if this had been constructed with magic somehow. He paced the floor, waiting for Winifred. He found himself drawn to the mystical hand mirror on the dressing table. He walked over and picked it up, wondering why the woodcutter would have wanted this mirror in the first place, unless he knew about the magic.
    Then he saw fog in the mirror again and it slowly parted. He watched in amazement as a picture appeared before his very eyes. He saw someone in the shadows rushing away that he guessed to be the woodcutter. He also saw the woodcutter’s cart and horse with Winifred driving it through the woods, headed right for the hovel.
    “She’s here,” he said, taking a few steps across the room, and stopping abruptly as a pain shot through him. “Damn, not now!” He felt his change coming on and could do nothing to stop it. He thought he could have met with Winifred before this happened, as his changed usually only came about at night. The woodcutter had taken so long to sneak the girl out of the castle that his opportunity had diminished. Why couldn’t the man have listened to orders and just waited until the morrow since it was now dusk?
    He knew he had to do something, but wasn’t sure how to handle this. He needed to lay down during his change and tried to make it to the door, but the pain was too intense. He felt his bones shifting and his vision blurred. His acute wolf senses picked up the sound of the cart pulling up to the hovel and he realized it was too late to leave now. She would see him in the midst of his change and probably be horrified. He couldn’t have her running away, or her grandfather wouldn’t come looking for her after all.
    So he did the only thing he could, waiting out his transformation. He ran over to the bed and drew the black curtains around him, and hid under the covers, feeling so sick at the thought that she’d see him like this that he wanted to die.
     
    Winifred dismounted the wagon and tied the horse’s reins to a tree. Her eyes scoped her surroundings in the dark. She was sure she heard the pitter-patter of wolf paws in the brush following her and she wondered if it was Lord Hugh de Bar in his wolf form.
    When she stopped and listened and no longer heard anything, she decided she must have just imagined it. So with her crossbow over her shoulder and the bolts at her side, she grabbed the basket of goodies and headed toward the secret hovel. She approached cautiously, and stopped at the threshold as the door was open. She peeked inside, seeing the fire blazing on the hearth, giving the room a subdued glow.
    “Wolf?” she asked in a small voice, feeling nervous and anxious to be here at all. “The woodcutter told me you were wounded. I brought some food as well as healing ointments in my basket. Can I help you?”
    When she heard nothing, she bravely took a step forward into the room, and craned her head and looked around. “Is anyone here?” Her heart raced, and she started to think she needed to get out of here fast, when she heard a muffled noise from the bed.
    “Oh, you’re in bed,” she said, looking at the velvet curtains drawn closed. Of course. What was she thinking? That he’d be standing there to greet her? The woodcutter had said he was hurt and dying. What did she expect?
    She took a few steps forward, and a breeze blew through the room, making the door slam shut behind her. She jumped and turned around, grabbing her crossbow in the process. Then when she realized it was just the wind, she released the breath she’d been holding, trying to still her rapidly beating heart.
    Winifred heard a moan or whimper followed by the rustling of the bedcovers from behind the drawn curtains.
    “Oh, you’re still