CHAPTER SEVEN
Screaming sure does take a lot out of the lungs, but it sure didn’t take anything out of the rest of me as I thrashed in the pale man’s vice-like grip. My efforts were as successful as a three-legged giraffe winning the Kentucky Derby.
The creature spoke in a low, even, and deep voice, the kind that reminded me of mysteries where the butler did it. “My apologies, miss, if I scared you. I had no intention of doing so.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and almost choked. “W-who are you?”
He opened his hand and released me. “Werd, miss, the gardener. You must be the young lady Master Ben is to wed.”
I rubbed my cold wrist in my other hand. “My name’s Millie. What are you doing out here?”
His eyes never wavered from me. I wasn’t sure if he had even blinked. “I co
