The Night Gardener Read Free Page A

grouse orlose hope. I need you to be brave.” She shrugged. “I dinna care neither way—but it’s important for Galileo … He’s a bit of a scaredy.” Kip glanced up at the horse, who, for his part, snorted back at him. “You think you can do that for me?” she said.
    Kip nodded, releasing a slow breath. He turned the button over in his hand. “But … maybe Gal’s got reason to be scared. Horses got good sense.”
    “Not this horse,” Molly said. “He hardly knows his own name.”
    She put a hand on his shoulder, and the two of them turned back to the Windsor house, which towered over them. A breeze moved past Kip, and the giant tree groaned against the siding.
    Kip peered at something behind one of the branches. “Did you see that?” he said. Some movement behind one of the second-story windows had caught his eye. He stared at the heavy curtain behind the glass. It was swinging back and forth, gently—
    As if someone had been hiding behind it.
    As if someone had been watching.

hile her brother set out to find the stables for Galileo, Molly went to the house to speak with her new employers. She dragged her trunk to the front door and took a deep breath. All these days of travel—all the exhaustion and hunger and cold—had led her to this place: her only hope. Molly had resolved to keep a brave face for her brother, but now she allowed herself a moment of honesty. The house looked like something from a horrible fairy tale. It might as well have come with a drawbridge and boiling cauldron. “Be brave,” she said to herself.
    Molly had not been hired directly by the Windsor family—she had been hired by a solicitor in the city. The solicitor, a nervous man who licked his lips entirely too much, had apparently had some difficulty filling a position in so remote a place. Molly had been prepared to lie about references, but the man had assured her none were required. She need only make the journey and the job was hers. It was more than she could have possibly wished for. And now, at last, she had arrived.
    Molly smoothed her skirt, pinched her cheeks, and tucked her hair behind her ears. Standing as tall as she could, she knocked against the door—
    Creak.
    It opened slightly. Molly hesitated, unsure if she was meant to enter. She peered through the crack in the door but could see nothing. “Hullo?” she called into the shadows.
    “You can come in, if you’d like,” said a small voice from somewhere inside. “We haven’t a butler, and I’m not allowed to answer the door. But if you come in by yourself, I can’t get in trouble.”
    Molly pushed the door open and carried her trunk inside. She shut the door behind her, blinking to let her eyes adjust to the dim light. She was standing in what once must have been a stately foyer. The air smelled stale, like an attic. Dust and dry leaves crowded the corners. Cobwebs dangled lazily from lamps and furniture. But strangest and most alarming by far was the presence of the tree, which seemed to have insinuated itself into the very architecture: crooked limbs grew straight through the plaster walls, thick roots pushed through the floorboards, and a broad, twisted branch hovered just below the high ceiling like a black chandelier. She stepped over some muddy tracks, peering into the unlit hallway.
    “Up here!” shouted a voice above her. On the far side of the room was a great curved staircase that led to an upper hallway. Crouched at the top of the stairs was a pale-faced little girl with dark hair and extremely thick spectacles. The girl peered through the banister railslike a prisoner. “Who was that lame boy who kissed you outside?” she called down.
    Molly raised an eyebrow. “The boy’s name is Kip,” she said.
    The girl narrowed her eyes. “Is he your husband?”
    Molly did her best not to smile. “He’s my brother, miss.”
    The girl stood up. “Well, that’s a rotten trick. Papa said someone might be coming from town, only he didn’t say