So many decisions, so many responsibilities, and no clear path. Out my window, the woods are dark save for the firelight coming from the Gypsy camp. There is one matter I can put to rest tonight, and I will have answers about that, at least.
I creep down the stairs, taking care not to make a single sound. The doors to the great hall are ajar. A lamp still burns inside. I hear whispering voices, and I crouch low, listening.
“You’re certain?”
“It’s the only way. We can’t leave it to chance. The risk is too great.”
“You would place all your faith in this plan? We have no real proof—”
“Don’t question me. I cannot do this without you.”
“I am loyal. You know that I am.”
“I do.”
The door is opened, and I hide behind a tall potted fern. I watch Miss McCleethy and Mrs. Nightwing ascend the stairs, the candle flame casting their long shadows on the wall and ceiling till they seem to loom over everything. I wait until long after I hear the baize door click. When I am satisfied that they are gone, I fly on angel feet to the Gypsy camp.
I approach the camp stealthily, searching for the best way in. I wish I’d brought scraps to quiet the dogs. A twig breaks to my right, and suddenly, I’m yanked hard to the ground and the full weight of another pins me there.
“I shall scream,” I gasp, but I’ve barely enough breath to speak.
“Miss Doyle!” Kartik lifts me from the ground. “What are you doing out here?”
“What are you…doing throwing me…about like a…highwayman?” I brush the leaves from my skirt and try to force air back into my lungs.
“I am sorry, but you shouldn’t creep about the woods at night. It isn’t safe.”
“So I see,” I reply.
“You’ve not answered my question. Why are you here?”
“I came to find you.” My breath comes shakily but now it has little to do with being thrown to the ground. “I want answers, and I shan’t leave until I have them.”
“I’ve nothing to tell you,” he says, turning away.
I fall in beside him. “I’m not leaving. I need your help. Wait—where are you going?”
“To feed the horses,” he answers without stopping.