The Everdon Series- the Complete Set

by L C Kincaide

  A hand squeezed Emma’s heart at the harsh words, stabbing at her most vulnerable self, and the long-lived guilt stirred deep within her breast. But then she remembered what Ivy/Amelia had shown her in the ballroom, and Mason himself. As the hatred cast an ugly pall over the ghostly woman’s features, Emma realized the intent behind the words was meant to provoke her to tears and resignation, and to weaken her further.

  “Why are you doing this?” She uttered in barely a whisper.

  The sconces flared for an instant, and Emma noticed the vision before her wavered slightly, becoming translucent for a second. In the next breath, the light returned to its former luminance, and the ghost’s form stabilized. So, she was not as powerful as she had let on.

  “I am trapped… here, alone in this house, not with my own,” a hand indicated the wall of portraits, “and not quite here either.”

  “And you want me to release you.”

  The Spirit nodded.

  “But I don’t know how.” Emma said helplessly.

  The woman threw her head back and screamed. Downstairs, the chair shattered against a pillar. Emma staggered backward and shrank against the wall, bumping a Langstone askew.

  “You can threaten me all you want, throw things and I still won’t know! I don’t even know who you are, and I’d sure like to be rid of you, you can bet on that!” Anger making its comeback emboldened Emma enough to inch her way to the connecting corridor, and under the hateful glare, she fled toward the stairs. Something hit her back, pliable yet with a hard edge. An unfortunate Everdon ancestor accompanied her down the stairs, the frame catching her on the shoulder. Her feet flew down the steps — so many steps — and she hoped they would not betray her by tripping over each other.

  Emma finally reached the bottom, her mind made up to try the front door again, when the hall shifted topsy-turvy. The pillars and wainscoted walls rose as the rug beneath her feet jerked suddenly, and she pitched forward. At the last moment, she twisted and came down hard on her already sore arm, crying out as the pain tore through it up to her shoulder. Momentum flipped her over, and her head hit the floor. Through tear-filled eyes, she watched another chair totter from the dining room toward her, then it all faded away.

  Almost there, the sun gradually receded behind a veil of gray, lending the manor a forbidding, uninviting air. Thus far, the day had been nothing but sunny skies, and now, he was surrounded by a thickening fog, and peering through it, he nearly walked into Emma’s car. Already apprehensive, his body tensed. The stately home had aged considerably since his last visit, the mortar between the granite loose in places, the windows, from what he could see through the mist, grimy. A number of slate tiles lay cracked and crumbled in the brambles and weeds. He hurried to the steps. Emma was beyond these desolate walls, and he needed to get to her.

  A length of chain coiled on the top step further indicated Emma had made it inside. The sound of something breaking and Emma’s cry confirmed it. Without further hesitation, John turned the handle and pushed his way in to find Emma lying on the floor among debris, and to his left, an airborne chair on a trajectory to crash into her. He rushed forward, and it stopped abruptly coming to rest clattering on the marble.

  “Emma!” He reached her still, prone body. Was he too late? Crouching beside her, he carefully turned her head toward him, and she moaned softly.

  “Emma. Are you hurt?”

  Her brow creased with pain, and her eyes opened. Attempting to focus, Emma blinked at him bewildered. ”John? Is that you? Are you really here?”

  “Yes, I’m here. I came as soon as I could.” He said, thinking it should have been a lot sooner.

  He raised her to a sitting position and held her trembling body close to his. He had never found the cavernous central hall inviting, but today, it had a downright sinister air, shadowed and strangely alive with a roiling mist.

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  No sooner had he uttered the words than the door slammed shut behind them.

  “It won’t let us.” Emma whispered.

  “All right. We can’t stay out here either.” He helped her to her feet.

  “I was staying in the parlor, but it locked me out.” After what had been happening, Emma couldn’t bring herself to refer to the ghost as a “she”.

  “It’s worth a try.”

  His arm supporting her at the waist, they crossed the hall, and John turned the handle. The door opened easily for him.

  “You must have the magic touch.” She gave him a weary grin.

  He released her and pushed harder against the resistance to move the settee that was still wedged against it.

  “I barricaded myself in.” Emma grimaced at the mess they were about to enter.

  John glanced around the parlor-campsite. “Why didn’t you tell anyone you were coming out here?”

  “I don’t know. I was in a hurry, and I didn’t want to drag them into this.”

  “But we’re all in it, and it isn’t safe for you to be here alone.”

  “Yeah. I figured that much out.” She winced as she sat down.

  “Is it broken?”

  “I don’t think so.” She shrugged and straightened her arm. “It’s really sore though.”

  “I’ll make you a sling.” He offered and opened the doors of the drinks cabinet which was usually stocked with napkins and table linen. He pulled out a small square of a tablecloth and folded it in half.

  “You are hurt.” She said noticing the bruise on the side of his head.

  “It’s nothing.” He assured her and adjusted the knot. “Better?”

  “Yes. Thanks. I didn’t know you were a Boy Scout.”

  “My folks had to do something with me to keep me out of trouble.” He grinned then turned serious. “You could have called me.”

  “But it was my responsibility. I started the whole thing.”

  “Emma, this started so long ago. How can you think that?”

  “I thought it was Ivy asking for my help.”

  “But it isn’t.”

  She searched his eyes, surprised. “How did you know?”

  “Rachel called asking if I knew where you were. Then she played the tape for me.”

  Emma groaned. “Pretty freaky, isn’t it?”

  “Actually, a lot more than you think.”

  He told Emma what he heard, and what the psychic told Rachel.

  “It tricked me. I know that now. I saw Ivy, Mason too. They are together, but whatever this is, it wants me to set it free, and I don’t have a clue how to do that.”

  “Maybe I do. I found some pictures from last year’s Weekend that are, well, strange, for the lack of a better word. I have them on my computer…”

  He made to rise from the settee when Emma grasped his arm, her eyes pleading.

  “Don’t go.” She hadn’t realized how frightened she was until this moment. For the first time since crossing the threshold, she felt truly safe.

  John sat down again, also remembering the laptop was still in the car. “There were these white spots surrounding Ivy, and when I looked closer, I recognized what they were. My dad confirmed it was them, Mason and Lucy and George.”

  “What? Are you saying they were around Ivy the whole time?”

  “More than that. She saw them, talked with them as if they were really there.”

  “She never mentioned any of them, but she did see the old hothouse as it used to be, I remembered her telling me about all the orchids inside. I didn’t realize at the time that as far as she was concerned, there was no difference between our reality and theirs, and she went with them in the end. She is where she belongs, I understand that now. But what I don’t know is who is behind all this?”

  “It’s Victoria.” He said.

  “Who�
�s that?”

  John explained, adding what he discovered in the diaries.

  Emma considered this new information. “I saw her upstairs. She despises Amelia, deeply resents the Ruskins were never part of the Everdon legacy, and she’s royally pissed off with me for bringing Ivy here.” There was no reason to mention Victoria’s brutal judgement of her — she still smarted over that assessment.

  “Yes, exactly. She never recovered from Mason’s rejection of her.”

  “But what do we do? I can’t leave until it’s over. Even if I could get away, if anyone got hurt or worse, I would carry it for the rest of my life. I don’t think I can live with that.” Tears welled in her eyes.

  The last several hours had worn her down, and the combination of dodging flying objects and the Brandy’s effects had left her drained.

  John pulled her close. “We’ll figure it out together. You’re not alone anymore.”

  “I hope it’s soon. I could really go for a pizza.”

  He glanced at the cooler. “Did you bring any food with you?”

  “Snacks, a few cans. I didn’t think it would take this long.”

  “Then we must get this done sooner rather than later because I have nothing.” He grinned at a memory. “Do you remember all those five-course dinners we always had in the dining room?”

  “Do I? All that English food? A week’s worth of meals in one sitting while we were trussed in our corsets!”

  “It wasn’t much fun having to wear a neck brace of a shirt collar the whole time either.”

  They snickered at the memories. What a relief, Emma thought, to have a break of normality in this dismal situation. She straightened herself and dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve.

  “This feels good, laughing about our crazy lives for a change.”

  “How long has it been?” He calculated. “The first time your mother brought you, you were just a baby. I’d bet you took your first steps here.”

  She chuckled. “More than likely. As long as I don’t take my last.”

  “I won’t let it come to that.”

  “Are you always this sure of yourself?” She teased.

  “On most days.”

  “Must be nice.”

  “It annoys my sister.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “Getting better.”

  “That was so creepy, seeing the ghost in the video.”

  “It wasn’t very clear, more like a shadow, but clear enough to recognize her by her dress and all the hair.”

  “That Victoria gets around. But she didn’t actually hurt Carrie?”

  “No. She had her freaked out enough for her to duct tape the keylid of the piano to keep it from falling.”

  Emma grinned. “She’s resourceful, I’ll give her that.”

  “And so are you.”

  “I wish I had your confidence. You saw for yourself what progress I’m making.”

  “All things considered, I think you’re one of the bravest people I’ve ever known.” He said sincerely, bringing fresh tears to her eyes.

  “Thanks.” If he only knew. She was terrified of having to go back out there.

  He took her gently by the shoulders and turned her to him. “You came out here on your own to save our families.”

  “Anyone would have done that.”

  “We’ll never know, but you did. That says a lot.”

  “Do you think so?”

  He nodded. “I know so.”

  She leaned against the backrest and sighed. “Don’t you think it’s weird that we’ve known each other all our lives, anyway, I did, yet we know so little about each other?”

  “I’d like for that to change.” He said meeting her gaze.

  She smiled in response. “So, you like chicks in leather?”

  “I like this chick in leather.”

  “Ivy liked you.”

  “She had good taste.” He grinned. “How about I light a fire before it gets too cold?” He said, already shrugging off what looked like a new suede jacket.

  “Sounds great. And for dinner, we have a selection of stuff in cans, granola bars and apples accompanied by a fine Pinot Noir.”

  “Perfect! I like a well balanced meal.” He replied taking stock of the firewood.

  “I got into the Brandy earlier.” She confessed.

  “Not a bad idea. I may need it later.”

  “It’s pretty good stuff.”

  “Did it help?”

  “It took the edge off.”

  “What happened?” He asked arranging the kindling.

  “I kind of had it out with it — Victoria. Called her a coward and some other names. She was throwing things at me. She always missed, but when the wheelchair shot down the stairs, it was aimed straight at me.”

  He lit a match to a crumpled paper and turned to face her. “Did she actually hurt you?”

  “Not directly. It happened when I was trying to get away, she’d do something to trip me up. Mostly, she scared the hell out of me. I tried to leave, but the door wouldn’t open.

  He came to her side. “She won’t hurt you anymore.” He said, taking her hand in his. “We are going to sit here and work things through together, okay?” His eyes were intent on hers.

  She nodded. Her hand was warm in his, and she liked the comforting strength. “Maybe she’ll listen to you. She’s your crazy relative, after all.”

  “You have a point there.” He grinned. “I guess every family has at least one.”

  “I’m trying hard so it isn’t me.” She made an attempt at humor.

  “If you’ve lasted this long, I think you’re going to be just fine.”

  “I’m counting on it. Otherwise, I can move myself in here full-time and be the crazy lady of Everdon Manor. You will visit me, won’t you?”

  There were a number of responses that came to mind, but he took her in his arms instead. First, they’d have to get through tonight.

  “This an excellent wine.” He said.

  “Yes, it really sets off the subtle flavors of roasted oats.”

  They had finished their meal of pasta in tomato sauce, a favorite comfort food from her childhood, granola bars, and apples, and were now setting down to making a plan.

  “You need to tell me everything you know.” Emma started. “What I know is that she wants to be free of this place. She’s mad as hell.”

  “I’ll agree with that. She’s been busy terrorizing almost everyone. What I don’t understand is why she is chasing you with a wheelchair. It must have special meaning to her.”

  “The only thing I can think of is that it was Margaret Everdon’s chair, and she ran Amelia down with it, which would have made Victoria happy. Maybe she intends to repeat Margaret’s success in running me down, herself.”

  “She definitely favors it.” He thought back to his research from the diaries and the images as well as what his father had told him.

  “What she wanted most was to have Mason all to herself and establish a dynasty — her words.”

  “She wrote that in her diary?”

  He nodded. “And more. It was very insightful.”

  “I bet.”

  “Victoria was relentless, even after they were both married. Following Amelia’s death, she got her hopes up and tried to snag him, but Mason didn’t give her the time of day. She died a bitter and lonely woman at fifty-two, predeceasing him by ten years.”

  “I don’t think that stopped her from hunting him down in the afterlife, or wherever they were.” Emma furrowed her brow. “Actually, they were here the whole time, weren’t they? Here and not here. The medium said, the separation between this life and the other side is only a veil, and pretty thin in some places, I’d say.”


  “I think this place has some very thin spots.”

  “Mum said that he — meaning Mason, was maintaining the illusion, keeping the manor looking the way it used to be. I was in the ballroom, and it looked just like it did every year we had the party, and a minute later, it was trashed, exactly as we left it a year ago. I don’t know what is real and what is illusion anymore. Or who is maintaining it. For all I know, the whole building could be crumbling all around us.”

  “What a prospect! With a bit of luck, by tomorrow it won’t matter.”

  “I hope you’re right. So, what do we do?”

  “We know what she wants, that’s a start.”

  “I told her I don’t know what to do, and she smashed a dining room chair into the wall.”

  “Like I said, whatever happens next, we’ll face her together. You are the key. It’s in her interest to help you.”

  “She’s not exactly stable, you know.” Her finger made circling motions at her temple.

  He grinned. “I got that impression going through her diaries.”

  “When should we do this?”

  “Soon. Why don’t you rest for a while? It looks like you could use some.” He ignored her protests. “Just a nap. I’ll be right here. We have a nice fire, and it’s warm. I want to think things through, maybe remember something I missed.”

  Emma offered a weary grin. She must look terrible, no shower since Friday, wrinkled clothes, her hair a mess, but none of that seemed to matter to him. At least, she wasn’t in her sweats, and had brushed her teeth and splashed water on her face. And he, so well put together in his preppy cashmere sweater, the sleeves pushed up his forearms, and his unfaded jeans, looking very out of place in the shambles the parlor had become. A warmth of affection enveloped her, and she decided it felt good, as long as it didn’t distract her from what still faced them. Remembering how she had made a fool of herself once already with Robert, she doubted she was about to do it again with John. This was different.