Il a besoin de toi.’ ‘Wake up, dancing girl, he needs you,’ the voice whispered in French again. ‘They’re coming for him. Hurry, or he’ll die.’ Rose moaned, rolled on her back and pulled the sheets over her head. Sleep, she needed more sleep. Dark thoughts had kept her awake well into the night, ...
The tousle-haired maid curtsied and stared wide-eyed at Rose as she walked into the small bedroom. And it was no wonder. Bruce’s black jacket didn’t hide much of her sheer, colourful dancing costume. Her face and hair were still veiled, and after over an hour riding in the cold night, her kohl ey...
She had heard people in the clearing. Two men stood in front of the cottage, wrapped up against the cold, with hats covering their hair, scarves hiding their face from the gusts of freezing wind, and bundles tied to their back. Behind them a one-horse cart creaked to a stop. A woman climbed down ...