Free A Sister's Quest by Jo Ann Ferguson Page A

they reached the narrow landing at the top of the stairs, he put his hand on her elbow. She faced him, but remained silent. Tonight she had not said anything right.
    â€œGood night, Liebchen . I shall be only a few minutes while I tell Rusak about our route tomorrow.”
    â€œOh! You wanted to speak to me about Vienna.”
    He put his finger to her lips. “We will have time in the coach on the morrow. Go to bed now. I can lock the door if you wish.”
    â€œThat might be a good idea,” she said, although she could think only of his fingers stroking her arm. The smallest movement might urge him to draw her into his arms again. Thoughts she should not have spiraled through her mind, but she must not do anything to show him how she longed for his kisses.
    Softly she repeated, “Good night, Alexei.”
    â€œWill fifteen minutes be enough for you to hide under the covers?”
    â€œYes.”
    As she turned to the door, he brought her face back toward him. “Are you really tired?”
    â€œYes.” She was tired of the upheavals in her life. Once things had been so simple, so straightforward, so undeniably right or wrong. Nothing was that way any longer. She wanted his mouth on hers and his hands touching her in ways she was only beginning to imagine. He would be glad to oblige before he sought out the next woman who might pass through his life.
    She closed the door and heard him lock it. She should be grateful Alexei was being a gentleman. The thought of wrestling with him to keep him out of her bed was not a pleasant one. Yet … Crossing the room, she pulled her nightgown from her bag. She undid her dress and pulled it over her head. The muslin nightgown dropped over her. Nothing relieved her baffling frustration. She did not know why she was upset when Alexei was doing exactly as she should wish.
    She pulled pins from her hair and stared at her hueless face. What she should wish. Not what she wished. Brushing her hair with short, ferocious strokes, she sighed.
    Everything was wrong, but she could not return to St. Bernard without getting answers to some questions—questions of her past and of Maman and of Alexei and of how all three interacted.
    Footsteps sounded on the stairs. Blowing out the candle, she hastily climbed into bed and arranged the covers around her. She winced as the thin feather bed shifted to leave her on a wooden slat. When she was about to adjust it, she heard the key rattle.
    The door opened with a squeak. A splash of light flowed from the lantern on the landing. Burrowing under the covers, she knew that saying anything would be an invitation to another quarrel. With Alexei or with herself? That was another question she did not want to answer. All she wanted now was to dream of a place where no one hid the truth.
    He relocked the door before walking across the room. The floorboards screamed in the darkness. It was a sound she had not noticed earlier when she had been arguing with Alexei.
    When the footfalls neared the bed, she scowled. Alexei should have seen his pillow and blanket next to the broken chair. Sitting up, she asked, “Alexei, is there something wrong? If—”
    A hand seized her arm as another clamped over her mouth. She was shoved into the mattress. She tried to scramble away, but the hands were too strong.
    The shadows congealed into a form. She fought to escape. The bed screeched as the man put a knee on it. Shaking her head, she clawed at the hand over her mouth. It ground into her lips, driving them against her teeth.
    She struck the man. He batted her hands away. When the covers were jerked away, she shrieked. She heard a triumphant laugh as the hand over her mouth slipped to her throat. She took a deep breath to scream. Broad fingers cut into her neck, gagging her.
    She struggled to squirm away from the fingers moving along her legs. They tugged aside her nightgown. The thought of kicking him flitted through her head, but was lost