Castle of the Winds (The Secrets of Ormdale, #3)

by Christina Baehr

I made note of the fact that when Simon was alarmed, he sounded particularly calm. What

Simon smiled his slow smile, the one that had surprised me with its sweetness the first time I saw it. “I wouldn’t say nothing. At least, not for me. After all, you let me read your novel.” I tried to damp down my smile of delight. Good heavens, what an egotist I must be if this was the way to my heart!

“Edith, may I ask you a question that might be considered impertinent?” I felt my pulse quicken slightly. It is always dangerous to give a young man permission to ask an impertinent question. One cannot, after the permission is given, complain when he does so.

I had never encountered mountain bandits outside of the pages of a novel, but I thought that they would look just like this.

I felt someone approach me and feel for the knot in my blindfold. I batted their hands away and undid it myself.

The flower of manhood was now wearing a slightly quizzical expression.

“Are all East Midlands clergymen’s daughters as fearless as you are, Miss Worms?” A grin was spreading over his face. Oh, no. No. This was entirely too friendly. Quick—I must say something obnoxious.

I threw up my hands. “So if I’m attractive, I’ll attract him, and if I’m unattractive, I’ll attract him?”

“Well, I will ask it anyway, but you can choose to answer or not, as you will. Why did you stare at me so when you arrived? Were you expecting someone very different?” I was expecting a giant reptile.

Remembering one of the plates in the copy of Ivanhoe which I had read so many times as a child that it fell to pieces, I plaited my own hair simply and let the plaits fall over my shoulders. It seemed a small part of that girl remained—enough to thrill with excitement at finding herself in similar surroundings.

He laughed, that charming crease appearing in his cheek. How much justice had he escaped, I wondered, because of that crease?

She gave me a smile that was about as warm as the draft from a door blown open in a winter’s gale.

So much for born persons! Only someone who knew little of human nature could say such a thing. “Education is our only sacrament, and cooperation our only commandment.” “Well, I suppose one is easier to remember than ten,” I said, a little drily.

I raised my eyebrows. Was it a kind of rationalist paganism he was attempting? To keep the peace without the peacemaker?

I undid my plaits and the hair fell in crinkles down my back, unusually curly after the drenching it had received from the brief encounter with the lake dragon. I caught some of the locks at my temples back with a few hair pins, to keep them out of my face. I slipped on the soft kid boots that I’d been given.

How odd, I thought, that Arthur’s good looks made me feel off-balance and slightly ill, but Simon’s made me feel like I was sitting in my own chair at home with a teapot brewing and a good fire warming me.

All my fears and questions flew away from me, as if I was dancing too fast for them.

I don’t usually lose my head in a crisis, but finding oneself tied up in the dark with a legendary monster from the deep fast approaching does something to one’s nerves.

Well, I certainly did not intend to waste a year of my life resisting his charms, as gratifying as it would be to teach him that there were women who could.

I would be at the lakeside, where, if Providence had smiled on us, Simon would be waiting.

Then I searched the room and my baggage for anything that might help me defend myself or expedite escape. I found that my hat pins had been preemptively confiscated.

Unlike her, I had the great blessing of a place to go where I would not be judged by the state of my gloves, nor what missteps I had taken.

Her words were like a thick fog. The only way to keep your head was to remember what you had seen before the fog descended, to remember where things really were before they lost their shape and clarity.

“Father, I’ve just made a solemn promise to two people, to single-handedly save the man I love from a dreadful fate. And I haven’t the least idea how to go about fulfilling it.” “Well, my dear,” he said gravely. “I suggest you start by humbling yourself under the mighty hand of God.” “Oh, Father.” I laughed. “I have missed you.”