Page 100 of The Moorwitch

The kitchen door slams shut; I can hear Conrad’s heavy footsteps as he storms away, off to his wing of the house. Mrs. MacDougal sighs and begins moving toward the stairs. I gather my skirts and flee as silently as I can, my cheeks burning.

That girl is trouble.

And the worst of all, the words which had pricked my heart like poisoned thorns:Maybe Rose makes me happy.

Back in my room at last, I sink onto the chair by the low, flickering fire and wrap my arms around my knees. My heart is tumbling against my ribs, and my skin is feverishly hot.

I hear his footsteps as he walks down the hallway, and I hold my breath, heart pounding, when he pauses at my door. Will he knock? What will I do if he does? Invite him in?

Don’t knock,I think. Then,No, please do.

But he moves on, footsteps receding, and I press a pillow to my face and scream into it.

Closing my eyes, I feel the hungry warmth of his lips on my neck; I envision his eyes poring into me, heat and energy rolling off his skin and crackling through my hair.

I’m falling in love with him.

My cheeks flush, the heat of the room suddenly too much to bear. I go to the window and throw it open, pushing my face into the cool night air. I draw in the rain-washed scent of the moors and stare at the glimmering stars marching across the horizon.

On the edge of the windowsill, crimson as blood, rests a single strawberry.

I pick it up with trembling fingers and turn it over. A bite has been taken out of it, and the wound leaks red juice onto my fingertips.

I hurl it outside, watch it disappear into the darkness, then lean weakly on the sill.

“Just a coincidence,” I whisper. “He doesn’t know.”

But I can’t make myself believe it. Does Lachlan have some way of watching me? Did he see me moments ago, ready to surrender to my treacherous desires? To become the trap he meant me to be?

Lachlan sent me here to be Conrad’s undoing; and evenknowingthat, I’ve let myself fall for the laird. I thought I was so careful, so clever, and all the while, my heart was betraying me.

I can’t do this anymore.

I’m tired of sacrificing more and more of my soul just to keep my magic. I thought I could complete my task and leave Conrad out of it, that somehow I could still keep separate these two threads. But what a fool I’ve been; for all this time, they’ve been tangled together, and every time I looked at him, heard his voice, that knot only pulled tighter. Despite all the lies I told myself, I cannot possibly pay my debt to Lachlanandprotect Conrad.

I have to choose one or the other.

Another storm is rolling in. The sky to the east is as black as spilled ink, and I hear another sweep of rain approaching, like a herd of wild horses thundering over the moor.

I grip the stone windowsill and shut my eyes, feeling the vanguard wind howl through my hair and grip my dress in its teeth.

I know then, in that cold wind with the shadows prowling the room behind me, what I must do, what I should have done from the beginning, the very moment I first felt a spark flicker within me when Conrad fixed me in his tiger gaze. It’s the only thing Icando, and the only way I possibly walk away from this with my soul still intact.

I must leave this place and never return.

I must break my contract with the faerie king.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

I put it off all night, and then linger in my room the next morning, pacing and twisting threads until they snap. Breakfast comes and goes, and Mrs. MacDougal does not come knocking; I am sureshedoes not miss me overmuch. But neither does Sylvie come looking for me as she usually does, which I suppose is for the best.

I tell myself I’ll write to her, to find some way to encourage her to continue learning her magic, whatever her brother might say. But I’m not sure it’s an intention I can keep. After today, I have no idea what course my life will take. Where I will go, what I will do ... nothing is certain. But I know I cannot stay in this house another night.

Picking up my valise in one hand, my threadkit in the other, I turn and face the tapestry.

It will be left behind, and Conrad will know the minute he sees it what I was, who I worked for. He’ll know the truth and he’ll burn the tapestry, and he’ll curse my name to the skies.

At least I won’t have to see his eyes when he learns how I’ve lied and betrayed him.