Bride of Haven House by Lisa Greer

Author:Lisa Greer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gothic romance, gothic romantic suspense, paranormal romance, contemporary romance, 1970s romance, vintage gothics, gothic fiction, historical gothic, family sagas, lisa greer, phyllis a. whitney, barbara michaels, daphne dumaurier, amanda dewees, historical romance
Publisher: Lisa Greer
Published: 2018-01-20T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

The baby’s cries woke Sophie up at 2:33 a.m. She yawned and pushed herself out of bed. She didn’t want the rest of the household to wake up. Slipping on her robe, Sophie hurried to the adjoining nursery. As soon as she pushed the door open, cold air hit her. She hugged herself, rubbing her arms for a moment.

“That’s strange,” Sophie whispered. Her room had been warm, and the heat was running. She could hear it, but this room was as frigid as a tomb.

She shivered at the comparison. The scent of roses filled the small space. It was strange. There were no roses here, but in her room, and she had barely noticed their fragrance this evening.

Her teeth chattering, Sophie made her way to the crib. The baby was wrapped up tightly. As least Maya wasn’t cold.

She took the baby from the crib, made up her formula, and warmed it with the bottle warmer in the nursery. John had seen to all the conveniences, and for that, Sophie was grateful.

The baby ate with eyes closed, and Sophie smiled down at her. The cold in the room eased off after a few moments. It was strange that the temperature differed so much for seemingly no reason from one room to the next.

The baby dozed off, milk trickling from her mouth when the bottle was nearly finished. Sophie tucked her carefully back into the crib, making sure she had an extra blanket in case the temperature blocked again. She was about the leave the room when she heard whispers in the hallway.

One of the voices was clearly Carla’s—low and feminine. The other, she couldn’t make out—John, Evan, or someone else talking? The two conversed for a few minutes. Carla laughed teasingly. Then footsteps went in different directions. Why on earth was anyone up at this hour who didn’t have to be?

Sophie stood still, torn. She wanted to look out the door to see who was walking away, but she feared being seen.

“Please, John. Please don’t let it have been you,” she whispered, sighing heavily as she opened the adjoining door that led to her own bedroom. Did it really matter if it was John or what he was up to with Carla? Theirs would be a marriage of convenience anyway, and Carla had rejected him—or so she said.

* * * *

Carla was with the baby the next morning, and John had either left the house early or not come down for breakfast. Sophie decided to take a walk around the grounds to clear her head. She’d noticed little about the estate on the drive in, other than the house itself, but there was quite a bit of land up on the hill it was situated on, from what she understood.

She donned her brown wool coat and walked out the front door and around to the left side of the house. A dormant garden lay near the backside of the house, and she noticed the greenhouse as well. The thought of

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