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Your Stories Await Telling

Whispered Warnings


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Elizabeth Monck sat upright in bed, perspiration on her brow.  Her bedroom was illuminated only by the burning embers in the nearby fireplace.  The perspiration was no product of the temperature in the room, for a cold wind howled outside the drafty shutters on the castle wall.  It was the product of a bad dream.

"Marie, you lazy girl," the Duchess shouted to awaken the maid on the nearby cot.  The younger woman awoke begrudgingly from her sleep.  "Yes, your Grace?" he uttered in a groggy voice.

"You let the fire die and I shall catch my death of cold!"  Elizabeth was beginning to regret allowing her regular maid to take off a few days to visit her dying mother.  Marie moved sluggishly to her feet.  "I am sure the Duke's manservant would not be so negligent."

What was truly bothering her was the dreams involving her grandfather.  In each he was yelling to her but she could not hear him.  In one case it was from a boat that her grandfather called out.  In another, it was from the walls of a castle, his voice not strong enough to carry to her ears.  In each case, his gestures made clear that she was in some danger., his face contorted in fear and urgency.

The sooner she held the seance, the sooner she might have her answers.  Yet, Count Forensi had been missing a day or two, claimed to have had a hunting accident.  Most peculiar.  She needed Darlene to complete the spiritual bridge.  Her best friend was also very close to her grandfather.  If anyone could solve the mystery, it would be Darlene Hamilton! 

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