Murkmere (33 page)

Perhaps I’ve grown into my own shadowskin now. I’m no longer the silly, ignorant girl I was when I first came to Murkmere.
Perhaps my shadowskin was always there, waiting for me to grow into it
.

Jethro has always been doubtful that Leah changed shape. He thinks she rowed on in the mist, beyond the island to the dark
scrub on the other side of the lake, and made her escape from Murkmere over the wall into the Wasteland
.

But I know the truth
.

That first evening I saw her
.

The bodies of the Master and Silas had been brought in earlier in the day. They lay side by side on the dais in the empty
ballroom, surrounded by the musty incense of dead flowers.

I was in my bedchamber, fastening Leah’s old green silk skirt around my waist and trying to feel brave. For I had to face
all eyes tonight in my new position as caretaker of Murkmere. The Lord Protector, the portly gentleman, the disapproving stick,
the lady with the red mouth — tonight they would pay me attention.

My window was on the latch, and I became aware of a deep throbbing sound coming from outside.

Puzzled, I went over and pushed it farther open. Above the distant cowsheds, the sheep pens, and the sodden meadows of the
estate, the evening sky was streaked with dark rain clouds, as if ink had run to spoil its glow.

Then I saw the single swan, flying.

Its wings were haloed with light. They beat the air steadily, like the pulse of a heart. The swan’s neck was outstretched,
white against the darkening sky. On it flew, purposefully, away from Murkmere, until I lost it among the clouds.

Leah told me once that the Murkmere swans have had their wings clipped; they can’t fly. When I told Jethro what I’d seen,
he smiled and said it must have been a wild swan from the Wasteland
.

But I don’t think so. I know it was Leah
.

All men see things differently
.

I was fastening the latch on the window again when the door burst open and a girl marched in
.

“If you think you’re to be my companion, you’re mistaken,” she announced. “You might as well pack up your things again and
go home.”

A
ggie’s life in the village was as normal and dull as any girl’s, until the master of the nearby manor, Murkmere, sent for
her to become a lady’s companion to his ward, Leah. Wild, moody Leah wants nothing to do with Murkmere, and Aggie’s new job
is not at all what she expected. As preparations begin for a grand ball celebrating Leah’s sixteenth birthday, Aggie becomes
deeply enmeshed in dark plots that surround Murkmere, and she must find a way to save herself and Leah from the deadly betrayal
that awaits.

Suspenseful and haunting,
Murkmere
envelops you in an unforgettable world between history and myth.

Patricia Elliott
was born in London and grew up in Europe and the Far East. She has worked in publishing in London and in a children’s bookshop
in New York. She now teaches a course in children’s literature at an adult education college. She lives in London with her
husband, two sons, and a yellow Labrador named Fingal.

Don’t miss
Ambergate
, the companion to
Murkmere
.