by H. Y. Hanna
Yikes. They couldn’t have a pair of bewitched high heels running loose in the Manor!
Hurrying past a bewildered Mosley, who had returned carrying the mocktail, Caitlyn rushed out of the room and set off in pursuit.
CHAPTER FIVE
The stilettos were just disappearing around the corner at the end of the hallway when Caitlyn stepped out of the Ante-Chamber. She chased after them. They were surprisingly fast—she tried several times to put on a burst of speed to catch them, but somehow they always managed to dart around a corner or skip up a flight of stairs before she could reach them.
Soon she found herself in the rear of the Manor, hurrying up a flight of back stairs—the old servants’ staircase—to the upper floor. A long, empty hallway stretched before her. Caitlyn had stayed in the Manor before so she was familiar with the upper storey, but this wasn’t the wing where the guest bedrooms were located—this seemed to be a wing she hadn’t seen before. From the dim lighting and the stale air, this was obviously a section of the Manor that wasn’t used very much. In front of her, the stilettos slowed, as if they felt unsure in this quiet, disused wing.
Caitlyn quickly took advantage of the opportunity. She pounced, grabbing the stilettos by their heels and sweeping them off the floor. But as she straightened, her attention was caught by something at the other end of the corridor. She frowned, straining her eyes to see. Was there a figure down there?
The stilettos wriggled in her grasp but Caitlyn barely noticed as she began walking farther down the corridor. As her eyes grew accustomed to the dim light, she realised that this section of the corridor looked familiar. Yes, she had been here before—she had come up the zigzag staircase at the other end. It was the time Nibs had climbed up a tree and got himself stuck on a window ledge. She had come in through a concealed door from the gardens and rushed up the staircase to rescue him.
She could see the same door now and, yes, there was someone hovering in front of it. They were so engrossed in examining the door that they hadn’t even noticed her. Caitlyn heard a female voice muttering and her eyes widened as she recognised the American accent.
“Pomona?”
The figure jumped, then spun around.
“Holy guacamole, Caitlyn, you scared the jeepers outta me!”
Pomona was a classic Californian beauty, all tanned brown limbs, blue eyes, and big blonde hair, with generous curves that she liked to flaunt in glamorous, revealing outfits. She came forwards now, looking like someone dressed to go to an Oscars awards party, in a sequinned gown that hugged every line of her body.
“Pomie, what are you doing here?”
“Oh, I got, like, a bit lost as I was heading downstairs… man, these big English country houses with all their corridors… anyway, I sorta found myself here and then I saw that door.” Pomona gestured to the thick oak door covered in metal studs, like a relic from a medieval dungeon. “It looked so weird… I guess I was being nosy.” She grinned. “I thought it might be like Bluebeard’s room!”
“It’s not—I’ve been in there. It’s just the Fitzroy Portrait Gallery.”
“Oh, so that’s the Portrait Gallery.”
“Yes, I told you about it, remember? I came up here when I was rescuing Nibs and the window ledge he was on was in that room. Also, that night when I came up here with Antoine de Villiers… It’s got oil paintings of all the Fitzroy ancestors on one wall.”
“Isn’t it also where James said his dad kept his occult collection?” said Pomona excitedly.
“Yes… but I didn’t see anything special when I went in, just lots of furniture covered with white sheets.”
“Didn’t you lift up the sheets to have a look?” demanded Pomona. “Jeez, I would have been so curious! I can’t believe you didn’t even have a peek!”
“I… I just wanted to get out of there quickly,” said Caitlyn. She didn’t know how to explain the oppressive atmosphere in the room and she was embarrassed to admit that the place had creeped her out. She took Pomona’s arm. “Anyway, I think we’d better get back downstairs. They’re all waiting for you—you’re holding up dinner.”
“Oh, sheesh… I didn’t think of that,” said Pomona, sounding genuinely contrite. She fell into step beside Caitlyn as they began making their way back to the Ante-Chamber. “Why are you holding a pair of stilettos, by the way?”
“Huh? Oh, these.” Caitlyn looked down. She’d almost forgotten about Evie’s shoes. The stilettos seemed to have given up the fight now and hung limply in her grasp. “They’re Evie’s. They were sort of… um… moving independently, you could say, and I came out to catch them.”
Pomona laughed. “Man, I’d forgotten what it’s like here in Tillyhenge—all the cool magical stuff that happens all the time. I’m so glad I’m back!”
“You never rang me to tell me that you were coming,” said Caitlyn, unable to keep the note of accusation out of her voice.
“Hey, I thought it would be nice to surprise you,” said Pomona, grinning.
“Oh.” Caitlyn was taken aback by the easy explanation. Could it really have been that simple? “I thought… maybe… well, you seemed a bit… “
“A bit what?”
“You just… well, you didn’t seem to text or call much when you were in London…”
“Oh, honey…” Pomona gave her a swift hug. “Sorry! I guess I just got too caught up in all the stuff that was going on. It was like one wild, non-stop party! I mean, I’ve been to some pretty awesome Hollywood events but this was, like, on a totally different level, you know? And when you’re with Thane, it’s just like—I don’t know—time stops or something, you know? I mean, I don’t think the guy even sleeps. Once, we were talking during one of his parties and he asked me if I’d ever seen the northern lights and when I said no but I always wanted to, he just, like, called up his private jet—you know, the one that’s in all the press ’cos it’s all painted black—and man, you should see the inside, black marble and ebony leather and everything—and he flew me and a bunch of other guests to the Arctic! I couldn’t believe it. One minute I was sitting in London, the next I was in this igloo hotel up in Iceland somewhere… and all these local people kept telling Thane that it was too early in the season to see the Aurora but he just waved them away… and then it got dark and he went outside, like, with no coat or anything, and we could all see him through the glass walls of the igloo… and he raised his hand up and… holy guacamole, the whole sky just lit up! It was like he summoned the northern lights or something…” She gave a lusty sigh. “Thane Blackmort’s got it all: he’s rich, he’s hot, he sure knows how to live it up… and he’s so freaking mysterious…”
Caitlyn watched her speak with troubled eyes. “So you were with him the whole time?”
“Yeah, it was, like, the best time of my life!” Pomona’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes unnaturally bright. Then she seemed to collect herself and gave Caitlyn a slightly guilty look. “Well, except when I’m with you, of course. We have the best fun together.”
“Um… so where’s Blackmort now?” asked Caitlyn.
“Oh, he had to go on some business trip.”
Caitlyn felt a stab of hurt. So Pomona had only bothered to return when Thane Blackmort wasn’t around anymore. There was silence between them as they descended the back stairs and rejoined the hallway leading to the main part of the house. Then Caitlyn spoke up hesitantly:
“Pomie… You’re not… um… getting too involved with Blackmort, are you?”
Her cousin raised her chin. “What do you mean?”
“Well, nobody really knows anything about him… and there are all those stories going around—”
Pomona’s eyes flashed. “I would have thought you, of all people, would know better than to believe in random gossip and rumours. Or do you also think that the Widow Mags is, like, an evil witch plotting to hex the whole village with her chocolates?”
“That’s different,” Caitlyn protested. “Besides, we know the Widow Mags, where
as you don’t really know Blackmort.”
“What do you mean? I do know him,” said Pomona.
Caitlyn started to retort, then sighed and let it go. She didn’t want to fight with Pomona on the first night her cousin was back. Pomona must have sensed something too, because just before they reached the doorway to the Ante-Chamber, she paused and reached out to squeeze Caitlyn’s hand.
“Look, I’m a big girl now and I can take care of myself. So quit worrying, okay? Anyway…” She gave Caitlyn a familiar teasing smile. “We should be talking about your love life. So, tell me—have you and James kissed yet?”
“Pomie!” Caitlyn gasped, glancing quickly around to make sure that no one had heard, even though they were alone in the hallway. “I keep telling you—it’s… it’s not like that between James and me.”
Pomona rolled her eyes. “Oh, pul-lease! There were sparks coming off you two from the day you met! I don’t think I’ve ever seen a couple who are so obviously meant for each other.”
“I think you’re reading too much into things. And anyway, even if James had felt something for me, he… he’s changed his mind,” Caitlyn said in a small voice.
Pomona frowned at her. “What do you mean, he’s changed his mind?”
“I told him.”
“Told him? Told him what?”
“The truth about me… That… that I’m a witch.”
Pomona goggled at her. “And?”
“And he wouldn’t believe me!” Caitlyn burst out. “Can you believe that? I finally work up the courage to tell him the truth and he thinks I’m lying! That I’m just a fraud.”
“A fraud? You mean, he thinks you’re pretending to be a witch?”
Caitlyn threw her hands up. “Yeah, isn’t it ridiculous? And he was so upset about it too; he looked at me with such… such disappointment in his eyes! Like he had thought better of me and I’d let him down. He actually said that he never thought I’d be ‘one of those silly girls who believed in all this paranormal rubbish… messing around with Ouija boards and crystals and voodoo mumbo jumbo’—that’s what he said.”
“Hey, I take offence at that! I’m one of those ‘silly girls’ who believes in paranormal rubbish and I love Ouija boards!” said Pomona jokingly. Then she sobered and said, “You know what, Caitlyn? I kinda get where he’s coming from.”
Caitlyn looked at her incredulously.
“No, listen… remember I told you about that ex-girlfriend of his? The one he was with at college? I didn’t tell you all the details. See, they were together for a couple of years—it sounded pretty serious—and then she got interested in the occult and became, like, totally obsessed with druids and magic and witchcraft and stuff. She joined some weird coven group and started believing that she was a witch.” Pomona rolled her eyes. “Seriously, the girl sounded totally nuts. Like, once, she dragged James down to Stonehenge and made him wait up till sunrise with her and then watch her while she stripped naked and danced around, chanting stuff… and once she served him a cup of potion she made up, which had live lizards and frogs in it… and then he walked into her room at college one day and found blood everywhere. She’d been trying to do some kind of ‘blood magic’ and she’d cut herself really badly. James had to rush her to the hospital—she would probably have been a goner if he hadn’t saved her.”
Caitlyn stared at her cousin. “You… you told me that James broke up with a girlfriend in college because she became obsessed with magic and witchcraft. I thought that sounded a bit extreme at the time… but I didn’t realise it was like this.”
Pomona nodded. “Oh yeah, she was the one who was ‘extreme’, not him! I think a lotta guys would have bailed long before that. James was a saint to stick around as long as he did. Maybe he felt some kinda stupid loyalty… you know how he’s always so noble and nice, like the way he’s always giving his staff second chances. But that trip to the hospital was the final straw. He just couldn’t take the crazy anymore. He said it was like his girlfriend had become a totally different person. After she recovered, he broke it off with her… and I think since then, he’s been, like, really paranoid about any girl who shows too much interest in the occult.” She shrugged. “You can’t really blame him.”
“But he seems fine with you,” Caitlyn pointed out. “And you’re completely obsessed with the paranormal.”
Pomona chuckled. “Yeah, but he’s not interested in me romantically. He just sees me as a kooky friend that you humour but you don’t take seriously. You know, it’s like when you watch people do crazy stuff in a TV show and you laugh and enjoy it, ‘cos they’re not anybody you really care about. They’re just entertainment.”
“That’s not true. James cares about you.”
“Oh sure, he’d save me if I was, like, drowning or whatever. But I’m not really important to his life—I’m not the woman he loves.”
Caitlyn flushed and turned away. “Who says I am? Anyway,” she continued hurriedly as Pomona growled with irritation, “I still don’t understand why James is so against the idea of magic. I mean… fine, his ex-girlfriend might have been crazy, but that doesn’t mean magic itself doesn’t exist. You know, he even saw the Widow Mags’s flying spectacles but he convinced himself that it was just a hallucination! He wouldn’t even believe what he saw with his own eyes—he had to turn it into some kind of rational, scientific phenomenon, instead of just accepting that maybe magic could be real.”
Pomona eyed her sideways. “Well, you never used to believe in magic either. You used to laugh at me whenever I talked about witchcraft and divination.”
Caitlyn hung her head. “Okay, I was wrong—I admit it. But see? I have opened my mind; I’m not just rejecting it outright.”
“Well, then… maybe it’s more than his ex-girlfriend,” Pomona said thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s to do with his dad as well.”
Caitlyn looked at her in surprise. “What does James’s father have to do with this?”
“Well, his dad was obsessed with the occult too, right? I know James doesn’t talk about him much, but from the bit I’ve heard, the old Lord Fitzroy used to have this weird obsession with witchcraft and magic as well. That’s why he’s got an occult collection.”
“So? I still don’t see—”
“So maybe James resented his father’s obsession when he was growing up… or… or maybe it’s even simpler than that! Maybe he just doesn’t wanna become like his dad!”
Caitlyn looked at her blankly.
Pomona made an impatient gesture. “Look how James is into changing things up and modernising the estate. Ever since he inherited the title, he’s been, like, breaking with tradition and showing that there’s going to be a new approach now. So maybe rejecting magic is also his way of showing that he’s not like his dad. You know—we all wanna rebel against becoming our parents, right?”
“Since when did you become so ‘deep’?” asked Caitlyn sarcastically.
Pomona laughed and flicked her hair in an exaggerated fashion. “Hey, I’m not a blonde bimbo all the time. Only on Tuesdays and Saturdays.”
Caitlyn looked at her cousin. When Pomona was standing next to her like this, joking and laughing, it was as if nothing had changed and it was hard to believe that she might ever have been vague and distant. It’s only when she’s with Blackmort, thought Caitlyn. And she hoped fervently that her cousin would stay away from London and Blackmort’s influence.
CHAPTER SIX
One way the new Lord Fitzroy was very different from his father was his casual attitude to meals. James had been adamant that he didn’t want to follow his father’s custom of a three-course dinner in the formal Dining Room every evening, opting instead for simple meals of sandwiches or soup and bread, on a tray in his study. He had been bewildered when Mrs Pruett, the Manor’s cook—far from appreciating the lighter workload—had been hurt and upset at being deprived of the chance to create the elaborate menus she had been used to.
Tonight, however, she had obviously seized the
rare chance of a proper dinner party to flex her culinary muscles, and they were met by a smorgasbord of gourmet delights when they finally entered the Dining Room. There was roasted Devonshire chicken with foie gras stuffing, Cornish cod fillet in garlic butter, braised beef ribs with creamed parsnips, a classic shepherd’s pie, grilled calf liver with sautéed onions, griddled baby leeks and buttered green beans, and even a plate of fresh oysters with tangy citrus dressing.
The delicious aromas rising from the table made Caitlyn’s stomach growl and she would have been quite content to just eat and enjoy her meal in silence. But the other guests were in a talkative mood. Sir Henry, in particular, seemed keen to share his opinion on everything from politics to pyjamas, and since Caitlyn was sitting near him, she found it almost impossible to ignore him as he drowned out all other conversation. She also couldn’t help hearing the cringe-worthy nicknames he and his wife called each other. They were so awful that she didn’t know whether to laugh or gag.
“Pass the hollandaise sauce, would you, flopsymop?”
“Here you go, diddykins!”
Caitlyn turned to catch Pomona’s eye, wanting to share her amusement, but her cousin was busily talking to the man with the enormous sideburns—Professor Kynan Thrope. From the brief introductions just before they sat down, Caitlyn had gathered that Thrope was a Cambridge professor and she was surprised to see Pomona speaking to him in such an animated manner. Stuffy academics didn’t usually capture her cousin’s interest, not unless they were young and good-looking, but Pomona was hanging on to his every word. Curious, she tried to tune out Sir Henry’s booming voice and leaned closer to hear their conversation.
“…yes, it was certainly an interesting field trip. I’m hoping to return to Puerto Rico next year and spend more time exploring the legend of the chupacabras, perhaps interview the residents of the more remote villages, where there have been several sightings.”
