Daughters Of The Storm by Kim Wilkins

Author:Kim Wilkins
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin Enterprises, Australia Pty Ltd

Travelling had exhausted Ivy. She slept deeply, heavy and soft, far beneath dreams: the kind of sleep one only achieves after hard labour or good works. Then a thin cry needled through the layers.

Ivy struggled to open her eyes, didn’t recognise where she was, couldn’t place the cry. Then it came again. She was in Rose’s bower in Folcenham and Rowan was having a nightmare next to her.

‘Sh,’ Ivy said, rolling over and stroking her hair, ‘it’s just a bad dream.’ She closed one eye as though it could help her hold onto sleep.

Rowan woke, looked at Ivy and said, ‘Where’s Mama?’

‘Mama will be back soon. I’m here with you now.’

Rowan’s mouth turned upside down. Her bottom lip pushed further and further out, and then she took a deep breath and began to sob.

‘Sh,’ Ivy said again, and moved to pick her up.

Rowan shrieked and flung her hand away, kicking her legs. Her foot caught Ivy under the ribs, knocking the wind out of her.

‘You little brat!’ Ivy spat.

‘I want Mama!’ Rowan screamed.

Ivy leapt out of bed, fingers itching to smack her chubby white thigh. ‘There’s no need to kick me.’

But Rowan was incoherent with tears and shrieks.

Ivy wasn’t sure what to do. She wanted to go back to sleep, but Rowan was winding herself up tighter and tighter. Ivy went to the shutter and opened it a little way. Perhaps if Wengest heard, he might come to settle her down. That was probably what Rowan wanted: one of her parents. She barely knew Ivy.

Ivy waited. Nobody came. She went to the door and opened it. The chill of midnight skulked in, making her hug her shift tight around her body. She took a half-step out onto the dewy grass, peering towards Wengest’s bower. She was sure she saw a finger of light under the shutter. Rowan’s sobbing intensified as the cold reached her. Surely Wengest would hear. And if he heard, he would surely come.

Then the door to his bower opened and Ivy shrank back inside. She didn’t want it to be obvious she’d tried to wake him. She heard a voice. A soft female voice. Curious, she leaned out again.

A woman was leaving Wengest’s bower, her face turned away from Ivy. She said something inaudible, then turned and hurried back towards the town. Ivy recognised her as the serving woman who had brought her meal that evening.

Ivy realised her mouth was agape and shut it, withdrawing inside. She closed the door and pressed her back against it. Wengest was tupping the serving girl. Rose was being tupped by Heath. And neither of them knew about the other. Why, Ivy knew more about them than they knew about themselves.

Rowan was still crying. Ivy sighed and went to her. ‘Please. Will you stop? It’s very late and I’m tired.’

‘No!’ she shrieked.

The door opened and Ivy turned to see Rowan’s nurse standing there.

‘You heard?’ Ivy said.

‘Half of Netelchester heard.’ She came over and forcibly flipped Rowan on her front. ‘Here, this always works if you can get her to lie still.

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