Embrace the Night

Page 5



could be wrong!"

For the next five minutes, he watched her struggle to inch her way to the edge of the bed, watched as she pulled herself to a sitting position, scooting over to the edge of the bed until her legs dangled over the side, her feet touching the floor.

"You can do it." Taking a deep breath, she clutched the newel post at the head of the bed and pulled herself to her feet.

For a brief moment, she stood there, her brow sheened with perspiration, and then, bravely, she let go of the post.

He bit off a curse as her legs gave way and she dropped to the floor.

"It's hopeless," she murmured, her voice thick with despair. "No one's ever going to adopt me." She dashed the tears from her eyes. "Or love me. I'll spend the rest of my life in this place and never do any of the things other girls do. I'll never marry. Or have children…"

She sat there for several minutes, staring at the floor, her shoulders slumped in resignation.

It grieved him to see her steeped in such anguish. She had always tried so hard to be cheerful, to be brave. She was a beautiful young girl, on the verge of womanhood. Who could blame her for feeling that life was passing her by?

He longed to go to her, to take her in his arms and give her the comfort, the reassurance, she so desperately needed, but he dared not reveal himself.

He was about to turn away when she reached under her pillow and withdrew a small brown bottle. She stared at the bottle for a long moment, a pensive expression on her face.

And he knew, in that moment, that she intended to end her life. Without thinking of the consequences, he barged into the room.

Sara Jayne glanced up, startled, as a tall man swept into her bedchamber. He was dressed all in black, from his soft leather boots to the heavy woolen cloak that swirled around him like a dark cloud.

"Sara, don't!"

His voice was like ebony satin, soft, mesmerizing.
Sara clutched the bottle to her breast. "Don't what?" "Don't take your life, Sara."

She blinked up at him, too surprised by his unexpected intrusion in her room, and by his knowledge of what she intended to do, to be alarmed. "Who are you?"

"No one of importance."

"What were you doing out on the veranda?"