Moonbeam - A Robin De Noir Story (The Secret of Moonacre)

CHAPTER 16

I cannot believe we are on Chapter 16!! If my judgement is right I would say we are roughly halfway through now :( But a positive thing is we still have so much to explore. Things are going to start getting tense now though. So buckle your seat belts and let's go on our journey to Moonacre!

An important announcement at the end!

The morning had arrived. Constance at some point had made her way back to her bed as the chill in the night's air embraced her skin too tightly. She felt that her mind was so overworked that she had begun to see things again due to that strange white horse outside. However, she could not escape to her world of dreams as tiredness never seemed to embrace her. thus leading her to have no sleep at all. Instead, she sat reading the story again with her candlelight burning until some cracks of sunlight started to peak through her shutters.

It had been a quiet night after Robin left and Constance's thoughts were speeding around her brain in fast circles. Her trance was broken as soon as she heard talking below her. Constance recognised one of the voices as her Uncle's as he seemed to be coming upstairs. The person which he was talking to was unfamiliar to her and she tensed slightly from nerves.

The rose which she had been gifted was still gently resting in her hand. The petals were beginning to look sad due to not being in water or just being left alone in their original place. Constance was lost in a trance as she looked down at it. Strangely she felt connected to the appearance of the rose. The wilting petals sank lower and lower as all of the life was being sucked out of it and it reminded her of the feeling she had felt during her strange incident. Hearing her Uncle, who was now much closer than when she last heard him speak, she quickly snapped herself out of her daydream and hid the flower underneath her pillow making sure to push it far enough so that no unfriendly thorn pricked her in the back.

Constance hurriedly placed the leather-bound book back into her dresser before sitting up in her bed and reaching for the book titled "Sense and Sensibility" written by someone who signs their name as "A Lady". The young girl loved this particular author's work. It was strange to see and read a book published by a woman in her time. Perhaps the 19th century was heralding change.

Not even ten seconds after finding her last page in order to mask her unusual dreaminess her Uncle carefully opened the door. His eyes widened not expecting to see his Niece sitting up with the colour back in her cheeks and her piercing blue eyes looking straight at him. It took him a few moments to compose himself but when he felt the presence of Marmaduke behind him, he shook his head and walked towards the girl leaving his steward in the hall. "I'm pleased to see you are awake my dear. How are you feeling?"

"I'm well Uncle. I feel much better." Benjamin sat down beside his niece carefully taking in her appearance. She looked much healthier but her eyes seemed sad. He was not used to taking care of people and he began to tense up, so he looked around the room to try and ease himself into the process but then he spotted the book. The same book he had placed on the dressing table yesterday was still there but had changed position. His head snapped back to his niece in panic. "Did you read it?" And Constance nodded in reply. Her Uncle was usually very good at masking his emotions to those who he did not wish to see them however, he could not hide from this. "I suppose you have lots of questions."

She should. But she did not. Somebody had answered them yesterday but Constance did not need her Uncle finding out about that. On the other hand, perhaps hearing it from his side would change things. At least she hoped they would. "Why have our families not made up? Can this argument that occurred centuries ago not be solved by us?" Sir Benjamin wanted things to resolve but he knew, or rather his pride was telling him, that it should not be him to be the first to piece everything together. "As you now know, the story is complicated. It is not as simple as just apologising."