“Fat lot of good it did you. How are you holding up?” She nudged the wine bottle until it teased my fingertips.
I tilted it into my glass, filling it to the brim.
Holding up? More like drowning in despair. But this was my problem, and I refused to burden my sister with her birthday so close. She deserved to enjoy what could be her last month of freedom. After our father paired me off, she’d be next. “Do not worry about me. I will be fine.”
“I have no doubt you will. You always are.” She settled back in her chair, pressing her glass to her chin, deep in thought. “Who are you going to choose?”
I had no bloody clue. John Kelley had eloped to the north with a barmaid, Conor McQueen was off fighting the war in Iodale. All Jim Crawford cared about were his shipping manifests, and Kellen Graham was rumored to spend all his time in the gambling dens in Dreadshire.
“The only good man I know is Padraig.”
Keelynn giggled. “If anyone is marrying Padraig, it’s me.”
3
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
I froze in my bed, afraid to move, afraid to breathe. The stifling coverlet felt like it had been woven with chainmail. Endless shadows shuddered around me, making it impossible to know where the tapping originated.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
The window. It was coming from the window.
Slowly, I turned my head toward the noise, certain I’d find some hideous creature staring back at me through the glass.
No creature.
Only darkness.
Even worse.
I knew what lurked in the darkness on this island. Witches and banshee, beings of lore, and monsters without names.
Tap.
Tap.
Something tiny and white collided with the glass before falling away.
Stones.
The legends had never told of a creature throwing stones at windows. If they wanted to come inside, nothing could keep them out. I had read countless fairy tales to my sister, but there had been one book in the library I refused to read aloud. One that held the truth of the creatures and the terrifying power some of them possessed.
More than enough power to enter my room despite the locks on the windows and door.
This person wanted to make his or her presence known. I shoved the heavy covers away and tiptoed across the soft rug, around the chaise, to the window. Three stories below stood a tall figure beside the hedge.
My breathing hitched until the figure stepped out of the shadows, and moonlight struck his blond hair.
Robert.