by Rachel Secor
Suddenly terrified, she broke from his grasp. What had she gotten into? She pulled herself free, dashed from the room, and up the stairs.
Back in her chamber, May-Jewel welcomed the lanterns and the warmth of the fireplace. She was glad she didn’t have to share a room with Katherine. There were so many things she needed to think about and in private. Reliving the moment of Alex’s kiss made her cheeks redden with shame. She wasn’t ready for such an affair. She admonished herself for openly flirting with him earlier. But she had flirted all of her life. Jeremy and the others said that that was what made her so charming. Yet none of the men in Boston had the effrontery to touch her, let alone kiss her in such a manner! She might have misjudged Alex. Had she really misjudged him or had she known all along what type of man he really was? She knew that he was attracted to her. What’s more, she knew that she was attracted to him. She knew what might happen when she returned to the sitting room once Katherine left. So why had she returned? Was it her desire for male companionship? Was it the thrill of the game? She wasn’t so sure of the game Alex was playing for it seemed that he played by different rules, rules she had no idea how to follow.
“Oh, Jeremy, if only you had come to Scotland with me,” she uttered as she slipped into bed and drifted into an uneasy sleep.
* * *
A distant echo mingling with the waning cry of the wind startled Katherine out of a fitful slumber. Had someone called her name? She sat up to listen. Then it came again, a voice like her mother’s voice, soft and dreamy. Katherine rose to locate the source of the call and slowly opened her bedroom door. But it hadn’t come from the hallway. It seemed to come from outside, from the garden below her window. Donning her robe, she parted the drapes to look down on the garden. But only empty evening-tide greeted her. As she started to leave the window, a pale blue glow moved ever so slowly past the gazebo. It floated down the walk and into the fields.
“Momma?” she whispered, knowing as she did that it couldn’t possibly be her. Yet Katherine, in her sleepy state wasn’t thinking right. She only knew that she hadn’t been with her mother when she died nor had she attended the funeral. She was simply told that her mother had died and had been buried. Could they have lied to her? Could she have been alive all this time? The last time Katherine had seen her mother she was wearing a pale blue robe and standing in the doorway of the cottage waving goodbye.
With shaking hands, she lit a candle and inched out into the hallway with it. The draft pushed the flame flat until it was almost extinguished. Cupping her hand around the flame, she moved to May-Jewel’s door and tried the latch. But the door was locked, and she didn’t hear anything from within.
“Katherine.”
Startled, Katherine spun around. But not seeing anyone, she moved further down the corridor to the railing at the top of the stairs and peered over. The call seemed to come from the shaft of waning moonlight that pushed through the partially opened front door.
But Katherine didn’t see anyone by the door nor in the great hall beneath her. Cautiously she made her way down the stairs. A belch of cold air rushed through the chandelier causing the crystals to sound. Over the soft tinkling of the crystals, she again heard her name being called again.
“Katherine.”
It had come from outside the manor. Someone was calling her.
Now standing in the doorway, she strained to hear. This last time her name was called, it sounded like the maid’s voice. The idea that it could be Selina unsettled her. What did she want with her? Was she another one of Sir Robert’s lovers who had been hidden away like Katherine’s mother?
Curiosity normally had no part in Katherine’s guarded world. Hers was a world filled with squares, each square having its own purpose and that purpose had to be fulfilled before she would advance to the next, and so it went, on and on through the years, one sure and steady step after the other. Katherine’s neat and orderly existence had been played like the game children played on the sidewalks of the city, a configuration of squares to be hopped in and out of. It took great tenacity for her to learn to jump in and out of her squares without stepping on the lines, and one of those lines was curiosity. And yet…
“Katherine.”
Suddenly and unexplainably, ignoring the tightening in her stomach, Katherine moved through the door and down the steps of the manor. Following the direction of the call, she took the path that bisected the garden. She traveled around the gazebo and toward the cottage. The thin gray line of predawn pushed at the black horizon as she approached the weed filled yard of her childhood home. Shivering from the dampness and from the rising portent in her spirit, she stood as if awakened from a dream. How stupid of me to have come here, she thought. But as she turned to retrace her steps back to the manor, the call came again. This time she was sure it came from her childhood home.
The cottage was shrouded in the voice as her name was called. Katherine was unable to tell if it were coming from the inside or from the very fabric of the bungalow itself. Her heartbeat quickened. Terror hooded her mind and smothered her reasoning. But she moved closer. The cobwebbed door groaned open. Through no control of her own, Katherine was drawn into the rank darkness of the cottage. The floor moaned with each step that she took as she haltingly inched into the center of the room.
Suddenly from the fireplace there came a loud noise. She turned just as scores of black birds were belched from its opening. As they flew above her head and drove her to the floor, the candle fell from her hand. Diving and twisting in a voodooistic dance, their beaks and claws ripped through her gown and at her flesh. Her screams became muffled in the fury of their fluttering wings.
As quickly as the attack had begun, it ended. The feathered darkness squeezed through the open portal and disappeared into the fading night. The door slammed shut as if governed by an unseen hand. Immediately, the air in the cottage became filled with an astringent odor. Katherine rose to her knees, and then to her feet. She tried not to pull the acidic air into her lungs. But the more she tried to keep it out, the more desperate she became to breathe. Pressing her bent elbow to her mouth, she struggled to open the latch on the door. Failing to do so, she beat against it with her fists. But the battered door wouldn’t budge. Its apparent frailness was but a ploy. Overcome with dizziness, her mind turning inside out, Katherine leaned against the barrier.
“No! Don’t lock me in here,” she screamed, hysteria replaying scenes from her childhood. “I’ll be good!” But her cries went unheard.
The acidic odor thickened, and the very air started to blister her mouth. Its burning filled her nostrils in spite of the protective arm she held over them. Her eyes felt as if hot coals were heaped upon her lids. Wavering sheets of fire filled her head, and she couldn’t think. Coughing and choking, Katherine stumbled as she blindly fought to get her bearings. But her mind refused to release the layout of the room from her memory. With smoke-filled eyes, she searched the plastered walls for an escape.
A window! Her mind screamed. There has to be a window! Didn’t she gaze through one as a child? Didn’t she climb through it to play at the edge of the forbidden field when her mother thought she was napping? Who joined with her there and played with her silly childhood games? She couldn’t remember.
A crackling sound came from behind her, and she spun around.
“Momma?”
A wave of nausea swept over her as she tried to see through the brilliant sheets of yellow and red flames that suddenly loomed up before her. Wavering, she fell back against the wall. Fighting unconsciousness, Katherine touched the window’s frail wooden frame. Desperately she tore at the rotten wood that had sealed the window shut. Finally it gave way. She pulled more of the boards off until an opening appeared. Suddenly a pair of large hands reached through the opening, grabbed her by her arms, and pulled her from the cottage.
Straining to see through the darkness, Katherine’s subconscious stored the image of a shape and form that was tall and powerful. Try as she migh
t, she couldn’t discern any features for the night engulfed her rescuer’s face. She lay on the ground, sucking the cool night air deeply into her inflamed lungs. Her eyes, though watery from the stinging smoke, no longer burned. Sitting up, she looked at the cottage. She blinked tears away to clear her vision, but the cottage was unchanged! Where were the flames of fire? What happened to the choking, life threatening smoke? There wasn’t any smoke! And where was her rescuer? Was it Charles? No, he wasn’t strong enough to have pulled her out. Had Katherine only imagined the hands that freed her?
Rubbing her aching arms, she concluded that the fire and her rescuer had to have been as real as the dew that now penetrated her thin gown. She couldn’t have made up the pain that lingered in her eyes and nose, nor the soreness of her arms where she had been grabbed. Someone had gone to great lengths to lure her here. But for what purpose? To frighten her so that she would leave? She rose and, with irregular steps, again ventured toward the cottage. No wonder she couldn’t open the door. A shovel had been wedged between the latch and the flat stone step. Her head began to spin again, and she grabbed hold of the door latch until the dizziness passed. Though unable to sort through all the events, Katherine thought she knew the reason behind them.
“They’re trying to chase me away from Wistmere!” she whispered, her voice husky and thick. “It has to be Alex and… May-Jewel!” She knew that both were greedy enough to want the estate for themselves. But she wasn’t going to be frightened away. “No!” she vowed. “Robert Craig owes me this, and I’ll not leave here!”
Still groggy from the smoke’s effect, Katherine staggered back to the manor. She had to know where Alexander and her half-sister were during her attack. With unsteady steps, she made her way to May- Jewel’s room. Again she tried the latch. This time it gave. Upon entering, she saw that May-Jewel was asleep. Katherine bent over the slumbering form, and, as she did so, blackness overcame her, and she fell unconscious onto the bed.
Chapter Six
As Alex gently laid Katherine on her own bed, he and May-Jewel set about trying to revive her. Taking Katherine’s hands into hers, May-Jewel shook them gently and called her sister’s name.
“Katherine.”
The voice prodded the fibers of Katherine’s subconscious until her eyes sprang open, filled with terror. She sprang up and almost out of bed.
“Be still, Katherine! You’re all right!”
Hands gently pushed her back down onto the pillow. Her mind veiled in shadows, it took a moment for her to realize that she was in her own room, her own bed. Then she saw May-Jewel and Alex standing at her bedside. She stared into their questioning faces.
“The cottage…” Her voice quivered with urgency.
Alex nodded to a form standing out of Katherine’s view. She heard the bedroom door close.
“The cottage!” she exclaimed, bolting up again from the bed and looking to Alex.
“Yes, you were rambling about the cottage being on fire. I’ve sent Charles to investigate.”
May-Jewel sat beside Katherine, taking her hand again. “Why were you wandering around outside at this hour? And why go to the cottage?”
Unable to voice an answer, Katherine closed her eyes against their questioning looks and withdrew into silence. In her shocked state, “the cottage” was all that she could whisper. Trying to come to grips with reality, she opened her eyes again, and spied her robe draped over the chair. She stared in disbelief. It was completely free of tears or any evidence of the ordeal she had suffered. She examined her face, her fingertips touching only smooth, resilient skin. There weren’t any cuts or blisters on her hands either. But when she touched her arms, she winced. They were bruised. That part of the night was real. Someone had grabbed her and pulled her out through the cottage window. An image labored forth, but she couldn’t bring it from the obscurity of her mind. She looked at the two standing over her and focused first on Alex’s cynical look and smirking mouth then on May-Jewel’s perplexed expression.
She finally found her voice and said, “I can’t explain it. But something happened out there.”
His voice tight with impatience, Alex responded, “Nothing happened.” He enunciated each word as if speaking to someone who was demented. “You probably dreamed the whole thing. No sane person would run out in the fields in the middle of the night!”
Flinted anger flashed in Katherine’s eyes, and her face darkened with rage. “I know what I saw! I am not insane!”
“Yes, just like you weren’t insane when you saw this nonexistent maid?”
“That’s cruel, Alex.” May-Jewel shot a disapproving glance at him. “It’s obvious something happened to upset her. And whether you believe what she saw or not, you should be more compassionate and open minded.”
Alex moved from the side of the bed to the window, intending to stop further discourse. Katherine’s outbursts had opened an avenue that he hadn’t considered before. He tightened his jaw and glared at her reflection in the window. After a few more witnessed scenes like this one, he mused, Wistmere will be free of one heiress. They have places for people who hallucinate. That will leave May-Jewel, and I can always handle her. Pleased with these ideas, he smiled at his own reflection.
May-Jewel mulled over Katherine’s story. It sounded strange. Yet what little she knew about her sister, she was certain that she wasn’t given to fantasy. The truth had to be in there somewhere. She looked at Alex, his broad shoulders framed against the window.
“Alexander,” she purred, “Charles hasn’t returned, so why not go with Katherine to the cottage? That way we’d know for sure what, if anything, has happened there.”
Motionless and silent, Alex weighed his options carefully. I could pursue this attack on Katherine’s sanity. But would that be wise? Perhaps, I should exercise a tighter restraint over my words. But Alex wasn’t used to checking his tongue nor his actions. Even before Robert’s death, he was accustomed to having the final say on everything pertaining to the shipping business. And after his death, Neal Jameson had given him free rein over Wistmere until such time that the heiresses themselves could manage. But he wasn’t willing to relinquish any of that control. Perhaps he wouldn’t have to.
“You’re right,” he said, turning around. “We should all go to the cottage.” His tone softened. “Perhaps I was too concerned about Mistress St. Pierre’s fainting to think of that myself.”
“Of course you were,” May-Jewel commented, an astute smile forming on her lips. “Katherine, are you willing to return to the cottage, just to see if…, I mean, what took place there?”
“I am!” She said, trying to keep the eagerness from her voice. She had to prove, if only to herself, that her experience was real. Donning her robe again, she followed her sister and Alex from the room.
They hadn’t gone far when they met Charles coming toward them from the direction of the cottage. He spoke in private to Alex, then continued back to the manor.
“Well?” Katherine inquired.
“It’s just as I told you,” Alex answered, “Charles says there’s no sign of anything out of place or abnormal.”
Katherine frowned deeply. What a fool I was in agreeing to come here before I could investigate the inside of the cottage myself. Now everyone will think I’m truly unbalanced. Grabbing her sister by the arm, Katherine pulled her down the path.
“You don’t have to jerk me around. I was going anyway.” May-Jewel yanked her arm free. “You never did say what you were doing out here?”
“If you must know,” Katherine snapped, defensively, “I was awakened by someone calling my name and… and the voice led me here.”
Her pace slowed as she approached the cottage door. Vivid images of the horror that had taken place just a few hours before rushed through her mind. She froze, unable now to enter.
Impatient and riled, Alex pushed her aside. “For heaven sakes,” he said, unlatching the door and throwing it open, “it won’t open itself.”
As they entered
, Katherine’s heart sank for the room, and indeed the entire cottage, appeared to have been untouched by any fire. It seemed to be in its normal state. There was even the absence of bird feathers.
“I don’t understand,” she muttered, her eyes scouring the area. “I know…” She stopped and looked from May-Jewel to Alex. Neither face seemed to register any knowledge of the events that took place in the cottage. “I-I…” But there was nothing she could say to make them believe her. Stifling her own defense, Katherine stood mute in the center of the musty room. She couldn’t deny the reality that nothing there was now amiss.
“I knew it,” Alex proclaimed as he stormed from the cottage. “You’re just as daft and demented as your mother was! How pathetic!”
Katherine ignored him as she struggled between what she had seen earlier and what she was now seeing.
For a moment, May-Jewel pitied Katherine. And though Alex tried to convince her differently, there wasn’t any question in her own mind about her sister’s sanity. But his unreasonable bias toward Katherine puzzled her. Sure Katherine was indeed belligerent, cold, and difficult to talk to. Yet, as May-Jewel stood watching her, the tiny spark of sisterhood began to grow even stronger. She needed prudish Katherine and her composure. She needed to trust someone. The strange things that were happening to Katherine were beginning to make her feel wary. The more she considered it, the more uncomfortable she felt.
Taking Katherine’s hand, she declared, “I don’t know why, but I believe you.”
“In the eyes of this evidence? Or should I say the lack of it?” Katherine looked around. “Even I’m beginning to doubt it. Why do you suddenly believe me?”
“Even an idiot can see that something has happened to you, that you actually believe there was a fire. Besides, no woman would make herself look like such a fool in front of a man unless she was telling the truth. Unless… unless you’re an awfully good actress.”
A wry smile crossed Katherine’s drawn face. “I must be tired. Your weird reasoning comforts me.” At that instant she became aware of a burning sensation in her nose and mouth. Her sensitized membranes had detected what May-Jewel and Alex had failed to notice. Going to the only solid piece of furniture left in the room, the bed, she lifted the tattered bedding to her face and smelled the material.
