Free Midnight Secrets by Jennifer St Giles

come here. My thoughts still drifted toward him again, but this time, I focused on what his father, the Earl of Dartraven had said. I’d hire a runner if I was sure neither of my sons had killed the chit, but I’m not.
    Having now met him , I knew without a doubt he could have, and would have killed me, had I given him cause.

Chapter Five
     
    “Blimey. What did ya think was biting ya last night?” Bridget’s red hair, lifted by the sea breeze, fluttered about her mob cap and face. Freckles dotted her nose and her blue eyes sparkled, giving her a striking, almost earthy, beauty. The sea, sun and warm wind bathed the morning in a comforting light, making the sand dunes glisten and the maritime forest lushly green.
    “A spider,” I muttered, my cheeks flaming. I’d die before telling the truth. The vampire had been dressed in black with fiery green eyes. For the first time in my life, I’d actually had a real dream. Not a dream about someone’s death or of trouble as always before, but a real, normal dream. I didn’t doubt that it was a dream, because no sense of impending doom had accompanied it. No deep dread filled my heart. And though the vampire had an uncanny resemblance to Sean, I somehow didn’t fear for Sean’s life. At no point in my dream did he disappear into darkness or die. In fact, I feared more for myself than for him. I’d been naked and he’d been touching me, and the thoughts wouldn’t go away no matter how much I willed them to do so.
    And maybe deep inside myself I didn’t want them to. The man had given me something I’d never had before—a pleasurable dream. Somehow insisting that I continue to think of him as The Killdaren or anything other than Sean was too hypocritical for even my proper driven soul, so I allowed myself the fantasy. But it would be in my mind only, no one would ever know.
    The man had captured me in a web of awareness I couldn’t escape. I shivered every time I shut my eyes and relived my first sight of him, his touch, the lilt of his voice, and the lure of his scent. He was in my mind and in my thoughts. A man so dangerous that he seemed capable of anything, so why did I have this desire to think of him so intimately? Why was I so curious about him? Why did I want to see him again?  
    It was Sunday, my first half day off. Five days since I’d met him. Five days since I had unsuccessfully committed myself to forgetting him, at least in terms of my physical reaction to him.
    My investigation had progressed very little, but I hadn’t ventured from my room to explore again. The things I’d learned about Mary since the night of Jamie’s outburst had been subtle remembrances of my cousin that I’d overheard in conversations between the servants. Mary had touched each of them in a special way. Just as she’d been teaching Bridget’s sister, Flora, to sing, she done a number of kind things for the others, too.
    I had yet to meet the child Mary had come to Killdaren’s Castle to teach, and I thought this extremely odd. I’d lived a week in a house, albeit a massive home, but I’d heard nothing from a child. No laughter, no playing, no shouting, nothing. I’d asked Bridget about Rebecca as much as I dared, commenting on how quiet she was, and Bridget would only reply that the child wasn’t well. The answer left me wondering what “not well” meant.
    My first perceptions of those at Killdaren’s Castle hadn’t changed, only deepened over the past days. But more importantly, after a week of bathing from a basin, I was desperate for a bath—and even more desperate for any sense of my life before coming to this place. I missed my sisters terribly.
    “Now that’s a thing to ’ave nightmares o’er, I tell ya.”
    Glancing up, I saw Bridget nod toward the Killdaren’s maze, her expression more fearful than ever. “Have. Remember to try and not drop your h’s. Now what do you mean about the maze?”
    “Not h…ere,” she whispered, pronouncing the h as she