Read Online A Cold Legacy by Megan Shepherd - Free Book Online Page B

anymore.
    I was just as stuck as it was.
    Panic made my pulse race. I let go of the sheep and grabbed onto the tree branch, but it wasn’t attached toanything, and I only got stuck further in the muck. The sheep bleated frantically, frightened by my movements, and I sank deeper.
    The sun set on the horizon.
    I was going to die out here.
    I screamed as loudly as I could until my voice was hoarse, until I could see only the horizon in the faint light, until the sheep gave up struggling.
    Until a figure appeared on the horizon, as unreal in the twilight as a ghost.

SEVEN
    I T WASN ’ T UNTIL THE figure came closer, walking expertly over the moors, that moonlight splashed over it and I recognized the face beneath the hooded cloak.
    â€œElizabeth!” I screamed.
    She approached quickly but carefully, as though she’d spent her entire life learning how to navigate the hidden dangers of a bog—which I suppose she had. She wore a long brown cloak and a traveling gown, stained now with black peat. I didn’t notice the rifle in her hand until she was only feet away.
    â€œStop moving!” she called. “It only makes it worse.”
    She lay down on the ground and held out the rifle. “Grab hold and don’t move. I’ll pull you in, but we must go slow.”
    I curled my fingers on the rifle, heart pounding, fighting the instinct to kick as hard as I could. Inch by inch, she pulled the rifle toward her, giving the mud time to shift and release me. My heavy skirts caught on roots deep in themuddy waters. No matter how she pulled, she couldn’t tear me free.
    â€œYour dress is caught,” she said. “You’ll have to take it off.”
    I started on the row of buttons down the front of my dress with stiff fingers. Once I struggled out of it, the cold water bit at my skin through my underclothes, but I felt lighter, freer, and it didn’t take Elizabeth long to drag me to the bog’s edge and pull me from the water. I was slick with mud and shivering uncontrollably. She wrapped her cloak around me as I huddled on the ground, breathing in her rosewater scent.
    â€œMy God, Elizabeth, I nearly drowned. . . .”
    A shot rang out, and I jerked up with a cry.
    The smell of burned gunpowder hung in the air. She’d shot the sheep to put it out of its misery. The poor animal sank into the bog, a part of the moors now.
    She wiped the muck from my face. “I heard your screams from the road. Why are you out here alone?”
    â€œI went to Quick for a wedding dress. God, it seems so stupid now. I heard the sheep—”
    â€œOh, you foolish girl. My carriage is waiting back at the road. Thank goodness I was held up in Liverpool or I’d have missed you completely. Let’s get you home before you freeze to death. Valentina knows which herbs to use in a bath to restore circulation.” She wrapped an arm around my shoulders and led me along the winding bog paths. It was dark now, clouds hiding the moon, steam rising from the horse’s nostrils. She helped me into the carriage.
    I sank into the soft seats. “I’d have died if you hadn’t come just now.”
    She leaned forward and rubbed my knee. “We von Steins pride ourselves on good timing.”
    â€œDid you discover what the police know? Are they still after us? I read an article that John Radcliffe wrote about the massacre, and it made no mention of us.”
    She rubbed my freezing hands in hers. “Right now you need to worry about getting warm, not the police. They won’t be storming the house tonight, I can promise that.” There was a troubled look on her face, though, and she pressed a hand against her coat, retucking a folded piece of paper that had nearly slipped out of her pocket.
    We heard Lucy’s and Montgomery’s voices calling to us a quarter mile away, but it was Balthazar who reached us first. He flung open the carriage door and wrapped his arms around