CHAPTER SEVENAurora slept at last, exhausted from the horrors of the night, but it seemed that no sooner had she closed her eyes and drifted away into merciful oblivion, than she was disturbed by a soft tapping noise.
She sprang awake and sat bolt upright in her bed, clutching her pillow and peering around the room that was now faintly visible through the grey dawn light.
The single candle had long gone out, leaving a pool of wrinkled wax on the table.
“Who is it?” she whispered, her voice sticking in her throat. “Phyllis, is that you?”
The tapping noise continued and Aurora realised it was coming from outside her window.
She stifled a scream at the awful thought that Lord Moreton had somehow managed to climb up the drainpipe and was crouching outside on the windowsill, knocking on t
