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A Cold Legacy (The Madman's Daughter #3) Page 36
Author: Megan Shepherd

“The wind is too strong. It will carry our scent.”

Angry cries came from the kitchen, amid the clashing of pots and pans. I cringed; all I wanted to do was pull myself into a ball and hide from the world.

“Over here,” a small voice said.

I whipped my head around the vast foyer, but saw no one. Had someone survived the Beast’s wrath? Montgomery pointed to the dusty tapestries flanking the grand fireplace. One of the tapestries ruffled, and a little face stared out at us. One milky white eye, the other dark brown.

“Hensley!” I helped Montgomery hobble to the tapestry. It hid a wooden panel that slid open to admit us to the secret passageways. I lifted my skirts to climb in, and tried to help Montgomery, but he was too heavy. To my surprise, Hensley—though he barely came up to Montgomery’s ribs—easily lifted him over the panel and into the tunnel. I slid the panel closed, and we were bathed in darkness.

“This way,” came Hensley’s disembodied voice.

“Hensley, are you alone? Is anyone else alive?”

“Shh,” he said. “That creature will hear us. He doesn’t know about the narrow rooms.”

He moved almost too fast for us to follow. My thoughts were in a daze, as I stumbled over loose bricks. How could I kill the Beast, with Montgomery wounded, and only a little boy to help? If I offered to stay with the Beast, waltz with him like a mad woman around the kitchen, would he let Montgomery go?

Hensley hurried down a flight of narrow stairs that Montgomery struggled with.

“Hensley?” I called, loud as I dared. “Hensley, wait for us!”

At the bottom of the stairs, I stumbled into a sudden brick wall that marked the end of the passageway. No call answered mine.

“Blast, we’ve lost him,” I said.

A squeak came from the darkness; though whether it was a child or rat or rusty hinge, I wasn’t sure. My heart leaped at the sound. I felt the wall until my fingers grazed a narrow opening, too low and narrow for Montgomery’s wide shoulders.

“You can make it if you lie on your stomach,” Montgomery said. “Leave me here. I have the rifle. You heard Hensley—the Beast doesn’t know about the passages.”

I shook my head fiercely. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“You must.”

I kissed him, trying to convey my love, ignoring what the Beast had said about the secret he was keeping. Then I crawled through the passageway on hands and knees. More sounds came ahead, a sort of scratching that stilled my breath. Was this one of mad Lord Ballentyne’s traps? I couldn’t turn around now, even if I wanted to. I crawled faster, desperate to fill my lungs with air. At last I reached a small door at the end. My hand searched for a handle, a knob, but there was nothing but the smooth end to the tunnel. I pounded on it. Shoved it with my shoulder. Called for someone to help me get out.

Suddenly the door was flung open. Light stung my eyes. Strong hands pulled me from the slick tunnel. I coughed for air, blinked furiously as a frigid cold bit into my skin.

I recoiled, fearing the Beast, but no yellow eyes met mine. Beneath me was a familiar stone floor, bodies wrapped in white sheets stretched out on benches, a cross in the wall: I was in the cellar chapel. Holding onto me was a girl with dark hair and eyes as blue as my own.

“Lucy!” Relief flooded me. Behind her stood Elizabeth and McKenna and all the servant girls huddled together for warmth, and Balthazar pacing near the door.

“Juliet,” Lucy said. “Balthazar told us what happened. We feared the Beast had gotten you.”

“I thought he’d gotten you! He practically told me he slaughtered you all!” I hugged her close.

“He was toying with you,” Lucy said, holding me tight. “He locked us down here this morning after he’d frightened us all he could and grew bored. Where’s Montgomery?”

“Safe, for now. He’s in the passageways, but he was shot. He’ll need medical attention soon.” I looked around the room, frowning. “Where’s Hensley?”

A deep wrinkle creased Elizabeth’s forehead. “You saw him? He’s been missing this entire time. Just before the Beast awoke, I’d denied him a second helping of pudding and he flew into a rage and vanished.” She tugged on her sleeves, and I saw angry blue welts there. My heart leaped to my throat—suffocating rats was bad enough, but he even hurt Elizabeth?

“He helped Montgomery and me escape the Beast, but then he vanished.”

Elizabeth nodded. “Good. He’ll be safer than any of us. You should go back into the walls as well, Juliet. The Beast will no doubt come down to check on us soon, and he can’t find you here.”

“If I may, Miss,” Balthazar said to me, knitting his hands together. “I believe I know how you might throw him off. If you can convince him you’ve left the manor for the moors, he’ll leave the house and you can pass safely through the passageways and perhaps help these ladies and girls get out as well.”

Elizabeth considered this. “That’s not a bad idea. If we could get outside, there’s a hidden cellar in the barn where Lord Ballentyne stored his winter ale. We’d be safe there, with the animals to mask our scent.”

I hugged my arms for warmth, thinking through their words. We didn’t have much to work with. Montgomery was wounded. Hensley was missing again, and judging by the bruises on Elizabeth’s wrist, he was growing more unpredictable.

As I wracked my brain, footsteps sounded on the stairs outside the door.

Lucy whirled on me. “The Beast. Hurry, Juliet, into the walls!”

“There isn’t time,” Elizabeth said. Her eyes fell on one of the white funeral sheets and she picked it up. “Under here. Lie next to the body. The smell of decay will hide your scent.”

I sank to the floor, crawling under the sheet, trying to ignore the rigidly cold body at my side. There was a distinct odor, but it wasn’t the sweet headiness of decaying flesh, more like ice and blood. Elizabeth smoothed the sheet over me just as I heard the chapel’s heavy door swing open.

Footsteps approached slowly.

NINETEEN

I CLAMPED A HAND over my mouth. I could hear people breathing, a few of the younger girls crying, and heavy, deliberate footsteps. I kept waiting for the telltale tap-tap-tap of the Beast’s claws on the stone floor, but none came. Were his claws gone completely? I wondered what exactly had happened within that body. The Beast had won, but not without a cost.

“Well, well,” his voice came as his footsteps wove in and out of his captives. “How are we doing down here? Haven’t frozen to death yet? Pity.”

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Megan Shepherd's Novels
» A Cold Legacy (The Madman's Daughter #3)
» The Cage (The Cage #1)
» Her Dark Curiosity (The Madman's Daughter #2)
» The Madman's Daughter (The Madman's Daughter #1)