which drew Halle’s attention toward the back. Servants stood, dressed as people from that era. But there was still no sign of Andrew. Worry dug a deeper hole in her heart. With all this talk of poisoning, and Andrew having those symptoms, she genuinely wondered if he was too sick to meet her tonight. Was he in his room now not able to move or call out for help?
Nigel introduced the characters: Duke and Duchess of Harrington, Lord Brimhall—Edward—and his wife Lady Agnes, Lady Georgiana, and then Lord Andrew.
Halle held her breath, hoping it was her Andrew, but when a younger man stepped forward, her heart sank. His face wasn’t the handsome features she’d come to think about lately.
As Nigel discussed how the evening would proceed, Halle kept watch on the door, expecting to see Andrew walk in any moment now. After all, he’d told her he’d be here. He gave his word, and men in his century kept their word…their honor made them that way. But as the minutes passed and there was no sign of him, worry grew in her chest. Something must be terribly wrong.
The lights dimmed and the playacting began. Halle leaned closer to Samantha. “I’ve got to leave for a minute.”
He r friend frowned. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Um…I have to fine Andrew. He could be very sick right now and unable to get help.”
“ Do you want me to come with you?”
“ No, Sam. I’ll just hurry to his room. I’ll be back shortly.”
She left the great room and hurried into the elevator. Although he’d not told her where his room was, she suspected it would have to be the same floor as Bill Stratford’s room. When the elevator door opened and she stepped out, she glanced up and down the hallway. Which one was his?
As gracefully as she could, she lifted her gown to sprint down the corridor. Unfortunately, her get-up wouldn’t allow her much movement. No wonder the women of that time walked slowly. Halle expected even the men didn’t move as fast with the type of shoes they wore, hindering their steps as well.
“Andrew?” she called out, but nobody answered. By the time she’d been all down the hallway, she was ready to scream. Where could he be?
Growling with annoyance, she made her way back up the stairs toward the grand room. Before going inside, she glanced around in hopes of seeing him. He still wasn’t here.
Disheartened, she pulled away from the doorway and headed toward the front door. After stepping outside, she breathed in the fresh cold air. Within seconds, heavy moisture touched her face and she glanced up to the sky. Snow was falling, but thankfully not too hard. But even with the thick snow clouds hiding the moon, for some reason there was more light than she figured there should be.
The walkways were lit with old-fashioned lanterns and helped to light her way as she hurried toward to the side of the manor. Out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed another object glowing differently. Blinking, she tried to focus on why the tree had become brighter since there were no lanterns around it.
As she neared, she noticed a body lying on the ground…
“Andrew!” she screamed and broke into a run. Her feet slipped a few times, but she righted herself and rushed onward. When she reached him, tears swam in her eyes. He was lying face down in the snow-covered ground. She sank to her knees and touched his back. “Andrew?”
She shook him, but he didn’t move. Carefully, she rolled him over. A gasp escaped her throat. This wasn’t Andrew…yet it was. The man’s face was white—lifeless.
Frantically, she felt for a pulse on his neck while her heart beat wildly. “You can’t be dead,” she whispered.
She found no pulse.
“No!” she sobbed, l aying her head to his chest, she listened for a heartbeat. None. Had someone poisoned him? Was that why he’d died? Tears streamed down her cheeks as she cried into his chest.
“ Come this way. ”
Halle jerked up and looked around. Where had that voice come
Nigel introduced the characters: Duke and Duchess of Harrington, Lord Brimhall—Edward—and his wife Lady Agnes, Lady Georgiana, and then Lord Andrew.
Halle held her breath, hoping it was her Andrew, but when a younger man stepped forward, her heart sank. His face wasn’t the handsome features she’d come to think about lately.
As Nigel discussed how the evening would proceed, Halle kept watch on the door, expecting to see Andrew walk in any moment now. After all, he’d told her he’d be here. He gave his word, and men in his century kept their word…their honor made them that way. But as the minutes passed and there was no sign of him, worry grew in her chest. Something must be terribly wrong.
The lights dimmed and the playacting began. Halle leaned closer to Samantha. “I’ve got to leave for a minute.”
He r friend frowned. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Um…I have to fine Andrew. He could be very sick right now and unable to get help.”
“ Do you want me to come with you?”
“ No, Sam. I’ll just hurry to his room. I’ll be back shortly.”
She left the great room and hurried into the elevator. Although he’d not told her where his room was, she suspected it would have to be the same floor as Bill Stratford’s room. When the elevator door opened and she stepped out, she glanced up and down the hallway. Which one was his?
As gracefully as she could, she lifted her gown to sprint down the corridor. Unfortunately, her get-up wouldn’t allow her much movement. No wonder the women of that time walked slowly. Halle expected even the men didn’t move as fast with the type of shoes they wore, hindering their steps as well.
“Andrew?” she called out, but nobody answered. By the time she’d been all down the hallway, she was ready to scream. Where could he be?
Growling with annoyance, she made her way back up the stairs toward the grand room. Before going inside, she glanced around in hopes of seeing him. He still wasn’t here.
Disheartened, she pulled away from the doorway and headed toward the front door. After stepping outside, she breathed in the fresh cold air. Within seconds, heavy moisture touched her face and she glanced up to the sky. Snow was falling, but thankfully not too hard. But even with the thick snow clouds hiding the moon, for some reason there was more light than she figured there should be.
The walkways were lit with old-fashioned lanterns and helped to light her way as she hurried toward to the side of the manor. Out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed another object glowing differently. Blinking, she tried to focus on why the tree had become brighter since there were no lanterns around it.
As she neared, she noticed a body lying on the ground…
“Andrew!” she screamed and broke into a run. Her feet slipped a few times, but she righted herself and rushed onward. When she reached him, tears swam in her eyes. He was lying face down in the snow-covered ground. She sank to her knees and touched his back. “Andrew?”
She shook him, but he didn’t move. Carefully, she rolled him over. A gasp escaped her throat. This wasn’t Andrew…yet it was. The man’s face was white—lifeless.
Frantically, she felt for a pulse on his neck while her heart beat wildly. “You can’t be dead,” she whispered.
She found no pulse.
“No!” she sobbed, l aying her head to his chest, she listened for a heartbeat. None. Had someone poisoned him? Was that why he’d died? Tears streamed down her cheeks as she cried into his chest.
“ Come this way. ”
Halle jerked up and looked around. Where had that voice come
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