In The Devil's Stables (Spirited #1)

Chapter 39

"When someone is forced to do something, they are not empowered. [It is] when they choose to do something, even if they are afraid, even if it is terrible, even if it is a hard choice, a bad one, or a wrong one, [that] they are."

- Michi

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Charlotte dismounted from her horse as she viewed the ramshackle stables before her. The building was in disrepair, boards half rotted and various spots where the structure was left open to the elements. It appeared as if its skeleton would withstand one more harsh wind before it bowled over completely.

Taking a deep breath, Charlotte reached for the parchment that her adversary had left her, her eyes scanning the contents.

If you would like to see your earl remain in good health, you will journey north. You have until the day after next. Choose wisely. I wouldn't wish to see the family reduced to ruin because of your actions.

Charlotte swallowed, the feeling of being watched raising the hairs on the back of her neck. She kept her features serene, knowing with a certainty that she had come upon the right place.

She glanced at her surroundings, her eyes flickering over every inch of the space. There was nothing but rolling hills and wooded land farther off in the distance. Charlotte glanced back the way she had come, wondering if the earl was still abed.

If the cry had been raised that she had disappeared...

Some part of her still wondered if it wasn't for the best. She thought of the confusion and harm she had caused thus far, the choices she had made. The last thing they needed was Mr. M- threatening them still. Charlotte hoped that whatever the reason for M-'s calling upon her, she could see Greyson's future mired in peace.

But Charlotte knew that for what it was.

Naivete.

Mr. M- wouldn't stop. Charlotte had known it with a surety that had brought her into Greyson's bedchamber the night before. It was either her or Mr. M- that wouldn't leave the situation alive, and Charlotte had wanted to spend every possible last moment she had with the earl.

That he would have that one evening of her truth.

She wouldn't take back any moment of that evening. The soft touch of his lips on her skin. The way she had clutched at his hair, whispering her words of love in his ear. The tear she had shed for everything she might be giving up.

And yet...

Charlotte knew that she would make the same choice. She would fight for him regardless of the consequences.

Despite the pain, and the sorrow, and the hint of death dogging her heels.

She refused to be a pawn in the game of men. Moved to and fro without a care for her well being or safety. It was only within Greyson's stables, within his arms, that she had felt more than a piece of artwork shuffled and bandied about, but a lady who was enlightened as to why she must move. Why it was in everyone's best interest to do so.

For Greyson, she had realized, she would move.

Charlotte owed Greyson her life.

And now, she was determined to repay it.

So Charlotte had followed Mr. M-'s directive and ended up here, standing before a dilapidated stable yard that looked as if no one had tread into its domain for centuries. The wind whipped the hair before her eyes stinging her cheeks as dark clouds stretched their fingers in her direction. Charlotte's head tilted back, and she thought she felt the first raindrop land on the tip of her cheekbone. She wiped away the moisture, straightening her spine.