Amy Lake Read Online Free Page A

night sometimes Fiona woke up imagining that she heard him, singing lullabies again to Maddie.
    Bye, baby Bunting,
    Father's gone a-hunting,
    Mother's gone a-milking—
    But Joseph Marwick was dead, now, these past seven years. He’d died of the grippe—gentle and accepting to the last—the winter after Madelaine was born. The girl did not remember her father, of course; there were times when Fiona envied her that, and other times when she wondered if she remembered Joseph quite well enough herself.
      * * * *
    “How’s Bunny?” said Fiona, entering the small stables. She tried to keep her voice light and unconcerned. The stallion looked at her with gentle, expectant eyes, and Fiona saw that Maddie was, in fact, feeding him carrots.
    “I think I can ride him,” said Madelaine, as a carrot, top and all, disappeared in a soft crunch.
    “Ride Bunny ? Absolutely not.”
    “I can!”
    Outright prohibition was an unproductive strategy with her daughter. “He doesn’t belong to us,” said Fiona, casting around for a better approach.
    Maddie was indignant. “I’m not going to hurt him.”
    Logic, on the other hand, had been known to work wonders.
    “How are you planning to saddle Bunny?” asked Mrs. Marwick.
    The girl glanced up at the horse. His withers were well over her head.
    “Hobbs can do it.”
    “Ah, I see. Hobbs can do it. And do you think Hobbs will?”
    Maddie looked thoughtful. “I don’t need a saddle,” she said finally.
    Fiona was wondering how to counter this—she knew her daughter, and could almost see Madelaine astride the enormous stallion, her small legs splayed nearly straight out on either side—when she heard Dee calling. There was an urgent tone in his voice.
    Oh, no.
    She ran back to the house, to find the doctor on the kitchen doorstep. Fiona’s heart was pounding, but Dee wore a wide smile.
    “The fever has broken,” he said.
     

Chapter 5 : Awake
     
    The marquess was dreaming. In his dream he walked—and it was slow walking, because of some difficulty that he could not identify—along a beach which he did not recognize. Gulls flew in circles out to sea, cawing, and the cliffs to the opposite side were rocky and ominous. The waves made a constant background of noise, over which he could only just hear people talking.
    Cut it off , someone said, and the marquess tried to walk faster.
      * * * *
    Sometime later, he dreamed again, as he thought. There was pain, but he could not be sure from where it came. A beautiful woman with green eyes came to his bedside and placed something cool on his forehead. He tried to thank her, and to ask a question, but no sound came. It was entirely frustrating. The woman left. He tried to call her back, but she did not hear.
      * * * *
    And then the marquess awoke, suddenly, weak and aching but in his right mind. These things happen, the doctor would later say. A man you think nearly recovered will turn his face to the wall and die, when someone at death’s door survives.
    ’Twas broad daylight. A small face was bent over his, a face he recognized, although he was not sure why.
    “He’s awake!” cried the child.
    Colin winced at the high-pitched sound.
    “Maddie, hush,” came another voice.
    “No, he’s really awake!”
    Another face appeared. It was the woman with the green eyes.
    “Sir?” she said.
    The marquess wondered if he could speak, and when he did, his voice seemed to come from very far away.
    “Where am I?”
    She explained, briefly, in a voice—low and soft—that he recognized from his dreams. And so the Marquess of Carinbrooke found himself at Tern’s Rest cottage in County Durham, the house of Mrs. Fiona Marwick and her daughter Madelaine, although he did not retain all these particulars until somewhat later. The woman sent the child immediately to fetch someone named ‘Dee’, then left him alone for a few minutes, only to return with a compress, which felt cool against his skin. Some part of his mind recognized