Pieces of Twelves by M. L. Bullock

Author:M. L. Bullock [Bullock, M. L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-02-24T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight--Mary

Mary Amelia lay in her bed, listening for any sound that would signal the arrival of the priest. Only a few minutes ago she was so tired that she could barely keep her eyes open. Secretly, she wanted Stephen to return but she couldn't admit that to her father. The near stranger's face was emblazoned in her mind. He wasn't the most handsome man she'd ever seen but he was certainly handsome. And to think, he'd lived before and that once, Stephen had been a king.

Stop thinking about him. You should focus on saving his soul, not kissing his lips.

Determined to get some rest, Mary lay still and silent, her eyes wide and unblinking, her heart pounding in her chest. The wait seemed endless as if each minute was an hour, every passing hour an eternity.

When patient waiting did not soothe her soul and send her into dreamland, she beat the pillow a bit trying to soften it up. It smelled stale and needed a good bathing in sunshine but she wouldn't complain. It was a kindness that the priest allowed them to stay in the rectory. Besides, Mary Amelia wasn't like other young women her age. She didn't care to be surrounded by the finer things but she did love the wonderful rectory library.

If they weren't planning to hike into the woods in the predawn hours, she would have spent the night reading.

The room was bathed in soft moonlight, which cast eerie shadows on the walls. Mary Amelia had been here far too long, and she was getting antsy. Lucien had said he would wake her when the priest came, but he had yet to return. She had no idea how much longer she would have to wait. And Stephen...where was he?

The night was still and silent, the only sound was that of crickets chirping in the dark. Mary Amelia had been waiting for what felt like hours, though it must have only been a few minutes.

Suddenly, she couldn't help but feel anxious about being so far away from home. Strange that she'd never felt homesick before. Where was Stephen? She could not stop thinking about him. Had something happened to him? She knew he had gone off to look for answers, but it didn't make sense why he hadn't come back yet.

Mary Amelia tried to push the thought out of her head and focus on the quiet beauty of her surroundings. The room was bathed in soft moonlight which cast eerie shadows on the walls. She wished she could relax and enjoy it but instead she found herself growing more restless with each passing minute.

Somehow, despite her homesickness and frustration, a dream descended upon her, gentle and inviting. This was no ordinary dream, Mary Amelia realized. She was not dreaming of a woman she had never seen before. She was dreaming of a woman she knew. Did she know her? What was her name? It was on the tip of her tongue.

Mary Amelia felt a gentle yet firm hand on her shoulder, touching her gently.

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