She blinked at me. “You do?”

“All right, every two weeks,” I admitted. “Sometimes longer if I forget. But I change them. I don’t trust Emily not to put an earwig in my bed, if I’m honest.”

“I’d put an earwig in her bed if I were you. You’re insufferable.”

“I love you, too.”

“I know.” She flashed me a smile. “You’ll be all right even if we get stuck. You know it’s never as bad as what they say. It’ll be fine.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

There were a lot of famous last words happening of late.

The most recent ones belonged to Aunt Cat.

I wrapped my arms around my stomach as I stared out of the window. The panes rattled as the gale force winds from the storm made the rain slam against them in an endless beat. There was no doubt at all that there would be widespread flooding in the area, and all I could do was hope that it stayed confined to the roads and not anyone’s houses.

It was a fifty-fifty chance at this point.

I’d sent everyone home just after lunch. After watching the forecast like a hawk, it’d become clear to me that flooding was absolutely going to happen, and I knew a large number of our staff had children. There was no way I could keep them here in the hope the forecast was wrong, so I’d sent everyone on their way with a promise they’d be paid even if they couldn’t get here for a couple of days because of the weather.

Even Arthur wasn’t here. I wasn’t sure the man had left for longer than an afternoon in two years, given that he had a space to live here and utilised it out of convenience. However, I knew he had a cottage in the upper outskirts of the village with a tenant that would need seeing to before the storm so I’d sent him away with the assurance I would be fine.

Of course, this all meant that I was completely alone in the house. If I lived in a normal, regular house, with two or three bedrooms and a nice kitchen, that would be okay.

In Arrowwood Hall, it was downright creepy.

I stepped away from the window and moved to the fire to warm myself. Despite the fact it was in that delightful crossover between spring and summer when the weather had a few perfect days, the storm had brought with it a late arctic blast, and it was absolutely freezing. The chill was only helped along by the devastating winds.

Thankfully, I was far more worldly than my aunt, and after a twenty-minute search for matches, I’d managed to get it lit.

I threw another log on the flames and wrapped my cardigan tightly around me. There were a thousand things I could do, but the weather was knocking out our already spotty internet, so that cut down my list exponentially.

A large bang came from somewhere outside. I started and drew in a deep breath that almost hurt to exhale. What was that? It was gloomy and horrible outside—I didn’t want to go out in that weather, not by myself.