The Duke’s Guests Laughed as the Maid Fell Into the Lake — She Said, “I’ll Remember Every Face”
Chapter 23
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She looked out. The river was right below her: brown and fast and very cold. On the other side, far away across the fields, she could see the gray stone tower of Ravensworth Church.Clara looked down at the water. She thought about her heavy skirts. She thought about the lake, the laughter, the cold dark water closing over her head.Then she heard the church bell begin to ring across the fields: one, two, three. It was calling the guests to the wedding.Clara closed her eyes, whispered, "Be brave," and jumped.The cold hit her like a fist. The river grabbed her at once and pulled her under. She could not tell which way was up. Water filled her nose and mouth. Her skirts wrapped around her legs like chains, exactly like they had in the lake—except this time, there was no muddy bottom to push against, only deep, rushing darkness.She kicked. She clawed at the water. Her lungs were burning.Her hand hit something hard: a tree root hanging down from the bank. She grabbed it with both hands and held on while the river tried to tear her away. Slowly, inch by inch, she pulled herself toward the bank. When at last she crawled out onto the grass, she lay on her face in the mud, coughing up river water, too weak to move.The church bell was still ringing.Clara pushed herself up onto her hands and knees, then onto her feet. She was soaked and shaking, her hair hanging in wet ropes, her dress torn, her wrists bleeding, mud from head to toe.She began to run.Ravensworth Church had never looked so beautiful. White roses covered every pew. Ribbons hung from the old stone pillars. Sunlight poured through the colored windows in rivers of red and blue and gold. Every seat was full. Every lord and lady in the county had come in silk and velvet and feathers and jewels.At the front stood the Duke of Ravensworth, tall and pale in his dark wedding coat. Beside him stood Lady Cordelia Vane in a gown of white satin and lace, so beautiful that the ladies in the front rows sighed when she walked past. Her father had walked her down the aisle with tears of pride in his eyes. Now Lord Vane sat in the front pew beside the Dowager Duchess, smiling like the happiest man in England.Near the back of the church, by the door, stood Silas Crane, quiet and still as always.The vicar opened his book. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today—"The great wooden doors of the church crashed open.Every head turned. A woman stood in the doorway with the sunlight behind her. She was soaked to the skin. Her hair hung over her face in muddy strings. River weeds clung to her torn gray dress, and there was blood on her hands and wrists. Water dripped from her onto the clean stone floor of the church and spread around her feet in a dirty little pool.