Enchanted at Christmas by Christy Carlyle & Jerrica Knight-Catania & Claudia Dain

Author:Christy Carlyle & Jerrica Knight-Catania & Claudia Dain
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: 0
Published: 2017-09-26T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 7

A ngel wasn’t certain what had just transpired, but all she knew was that being in the presence of that man – no matter how handsome or charming he may be; no matter how stormy and soulful his blue eyes were – was very, very bad for her. She’d never felt such a drain on her energy, as if her very soul was being siphoned from her body.

When she reached the top of the first flight of stairs, she paused to catch her breath and get her wits about her. Heavens, she was tired. All she wanted to do was curl up in bed and go to sleep. But how would that look if she missed supper on her first night here? Rude, that’s how. She absolutely could not beg off tonight, no matter how she felt.

With new determination, she gathered herself together and made the sojourn to her chambers. The maid Lady Tamsyn had insisted on was already in her room, and she smiled brightly when Angel walked through the door. That was, until she saw Angel’s face, which she could only imagine looked something akin to death.

“Miss Quinn, are you unwell?” the girl asked, setting aside a pair of white gloves and rushing to Angel’s side.

“I’m not sure,” Angel replied, allowing the girl to escort her to the bed. She sat on the edge, her body sinking gratefully into the feather mattress. “Something just…came over me.”

“Oh, dear.” The maid gave a little tsk. “Happens to me all the time. Some of us are more sensitive to the spirits than others.”

Angel blinked up at her. “Spirits?”

“Oh, sure!” Her chocolate brown eyes grew round and eager. “The castle is full of them.”

“Have you ever seen one?”

The girl laughed. “I’ve seen at least a hundred and one, miss. It feels that way, anyway. I’m Betsy, by the way. Mrs. Bray sent me up to tend to you. Hope you don’t mind I took the liberty of laying out your evening clothes. We ought to get you dressed – supper is always prompt.”

If Angel hadn’t already been a bit off kilter, Betsy would have made her so. Goodness, she was a whirlwind of excitement and energy, wasn’t she? She worked around Angel, chattering away and expecting no response, which was fine for Angel. It gave her an opportunity to ruminate on what Betsy had said before, about the spirits. Was it possible they were a drain on her? She’d felt something odd when she’d first arrived, and His Grace wasn’t anywhere near her then. So, perhaps it wasn’t him, after all. But what did it mean?

She would have to ask Sacha tomorrow on her visit. With any luck, she’d be able to help Angel solve the mystery.

“There you are, miss,” Betsy said, prompting Angel to glance up into the mirror. “Do you like it?”

Angel didn’t exactly recognize herself. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn her hair up, for she far preferred it down and freely flowing. To be truthful, she looked like one of them now.

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