The Moon Master's Ball Read Online Free Page A

in a row Rodger
startled Tilly half to death. She spun about, letting out a gasp.
Rodger leaned against the back wall of the manor as though he was
about to fall asleep.
    “Scared you good, didn’t I? And I wasn’t
even meaning to!” He laughed and walked towards Tilly, his presence
like a breath of fresh air. “Ellen said you were staying to finish
up, and I thought I’d escort you to the inn, since I’m such a
dashing, protective man.”
    “Thank you, Rodger.” Tilly’s voice caught
when she said his name, and his quirky smile suddenly vanished.
    “Was today really that bad?” All joviality
left his face, leaving nothing but concern in its place.
    She nodded numbly and sniffled when he put
his arm around her.
    “You need to be ’round people who love you
tonight. Come on. Let’s get to the inn. What happened?”
    Tilly let out an exhausted sigh. “It’s . . .
Everyone wants to know if I’m going . And I don’t want to. It
scares me, Rodger! I know that everyone else here loves it, but I
saw something different than the rest of you!”
    “You don’t have to go, Tilly. It’s all
right. You can stay home all week when they come, bundled up in
your blankets and drinking hot tea with honey.” He smiled one of
his most infectious smiles and patted her shoulder.
    Tilly nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s
been quite a long day.”
    “That’s all right. Perhaps we’ll toast some
bread with cheese over Caroline’s fire tonight. And we can have
some fresh cranberry sauce with it as well! Eggs sound good to me,
but I know you’re more for the bread and cheese . . .” He continued
talking as they headed to the inn, lifting her spirits with every
word.
    But in spite of Rodger’s assurances, she
huddled beneath his arm, feeling the need of some protection
against the sightless stare of Bromley Meadow looming behind
them.
     
     

     
4
     
    The next day Tilly scrubbed the kitchen
floor while listening to Mrs. Gregson rant about Mrs. Carlisle and
her daughter. “They didn’t leave ’til past dark! If they ever did leave. I never saw ’em go.”
    “Wait.” Tilly sat back on her heels and
looked up at Mrs. Gregson. “They’re not even here yet. It’s half
past seven.”
    Tilly the Tardy indeed!
    “I’ll be right back, Mrs. Gregson.” Tilly
dropped her scrub brush and nearly overturned her soap-filled
bucket in her haste to scramble up. Ignoring Mrs. Gregson’s
questioning shout, she dashed upstairs and into the parlor and
began cleaning furiously before the new housekeeper could set up
camp in the room. “Daphne! Ellen! Could you come help—”
    Then she glanced out the parlor’s large
window and staggered backwards, bumping into a table and sending a
vase full of flowers crashing to the floor. Tilly gripped the table
with both hands and squeezed her eyes shut. Calm down. It’s not
as though you’ve never seen it.
    But, in truth, she could never get used to
the sight. Every autumn for ever-so-many years, she had seen this
phenomenon occur. One minute there was nothing but dandelions atop
Bromley Meadow, and the next minute . . .
    It had arrived.
    Tilly could hear the excited shouts of other
villagers as they saw it too, but she wasn’t listening. The
memories of that terrifying moment of many years ago flashed
through her mind, and she felt bile rising in her throat.
    “Tilly! It’s here! Lord Hollingberry has
given us the whole week off!”
    The other maids rushed about the house,
never stopping to notice Tilly’s terrified state. Already she saw
families hurrying out to Bromley Meadow to have a grand time. Shops
closed and children were let out of school . . .
    . . . For there, reaching up to the sky, was
a massive tent painted in the most magnificent colors.
Emerald-green stripes, deep-burgundy stripes, gold stripes, and
even peacock-blue stripes adorned the tall tent; and scattered
around it were little, aged wagons of pastel colors and booths with
vendors awaiting their first