by Amy Richie
Sylvia and David both turned to look at me with guilty expressions. They really had forgotten I was in the room with them.
“We can’t tell you,” Sylvia said before David could stop her.
“Why can’t you tell me?”
“It’s not our…secret to tell.”
My breath hitched up along with my heart. She was starting to scare me. Whatever they were hiding must have been really bad.
“Is it about Silango?”
“No,” David answered immediately.
“Sort of,” Sylvia said at the same time.
I wasn’t getting very far in solving the mystery surrounding Marcus. If anything, I had only managed to become even more confused.
Now, they had confirmed that there was a secret that no one was telling me. The next problem I faced was how I was going to get the two of them to tell me what it was.
“Sylvia’s right, I deserve to know.” I did my best to glare at David.
“She said you would find out eventually.”
“So you might as well just tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
All three of us sat a little straighter at the sound of Marcus’s voice. It was as if we were small children who had just been caught doing something naughty.
“Marcus,” I exclaimed nervously.
“Claudia.” His earlier good mood seemed to be holding for the moment. He leaned down to hug me awkwardly and then joined David on the seat across from us.
Distracted, he picked up a pencil from the desk next to him and began tapping it on his leg. No words were spoken for several tense minutes. I watched as Marcus brought his leg up to cross it over his knees.
“So,” he tapped out a nervous rhythm on the side of his boot.
“So,” Sylvia’s eyebrows rose uncomfortably.
“Did you ladies have plans for today?”
“We thought we’d take a walk through the park,” she answered while I just sat there holding my hands tightly together.
“The weather is lovely,” David added helpfully.
When I finally managed to look up, Marcus was glaring directly at me. “Claudia is not to leave the house,” he barked.
“You’re being unreasonable!” Sylvia’s milky white complexion flushed red with irritation.
“Am I?” His lips snapped tight together on his angry words. I was alarmed when the pencil he held in his hand snapped in half.
I silently pleaded with Sylvia just to let the matter drop. I didn’t really want to go for a walk anyways. I was perfectly content to sit inside the house day after day. I shot her a pleading look from across the room, but she pretended not to see it.
“You could come with us, you know,” she fired at him.
He looked as if the very thought repulsed him. “I’m busy,” he said shortly.
“Doing what?”
“Silango has asked me to do him a favor.”
His words made her fall silent. I was surprised; I had expected her to keep arguing with him until she got her way. He usually caved in to her.
“Anyways,” he stood up abruptly, “I couldn’t go today even if I wanted to.”
“Why?” I wanted to bite back the question when he turned his scowl in my direction.
“I’ll be leaving within the hour. I won’t be back for a few days.” He left the room before I could ask where he was going.
I glanced immediately to where Sylvia sat. She didn’t say anything, only shook her head in my direction. I pursed my lips, not sure what I felt about Marcus leaving.
I should have been sad or even angry that Marcus was leaving me alone again. I should have demanded that he stay home with me, but I couldn’t’ bring myself to feel anything but relief.
The past few days had been uncomfortably tense. Marcus spent most of his time by himself sulking in the corner of the room or glaring at me. I had asked him to send me back to Hamel ahead of him, but he wouldn’t hear of it.
Since he had forbidden me to go out with Sylvia anymore, I was left inside the house with him, and it was making me feel jumpy. If he came into a room, I found myself making every excuse I could think of to leave it.
I tried my best to hold onto the times when we first met–when I had first fallen in love with him. When I thought of those times, I remembered why we had gotten married.
He did love me; I was sure of it. He had asked me to marry him and to spend the rest of my life with him. My nose crinkled when I also remembered he had amended his promise to me.
He had said he would love me for as long as I lived–but not as long as he lived. It was childish to get stuck on such a simple twist of words. They meant the same thing, right?
Marcus would be back in a few days and then we’d return to Hamel. I was sure that once we were away from Silango, Marcus would return to his happy self–the one that I loved and who loved me in return.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
In my dream, I was once again in Hamel with my aunt and uncle. We were all three standing in a field of long grass. The sun was casting its warm rays upon the ground. The wind was strong enough to make my long curls dance, but it wasn’t cold at all.
“Are you happy, dear?” Aunt Dora asked in her whispery dream voice.
“I am,” I whispered back in a voice that zipped through the air and enveloped us in happiness.
“I’ve heard strange things about that young man.”
“You have?” I paused in my steps to look back at her.
“I have.” Her kind, weathered face was as serious as I’d ever seen it.
“What have you heard, Aunt Dora?”
“Terrible things,” her lips curled up in a snarl.
Suddenly the scene around me changed. Huge dark clouds blew in to blot out the sun and thunder rumbled threateningly. The wind that whipped at our clothes now was cold and bit like tiny rocks were mixed in. A flash of lightening zipped through the thick clouds.
The wind picked Aunt Dora up and flung her several feet away. I screamed, startling even myself with the sound.
For the length of a heartbeat, everything in my dream stood very, very still and I saw what was in the wind. It was Marcus.
I sat straight up in my bed, panting heavily. My body was shaking violently and I couldn’t catch my breath. The details of my dream played and replayed in my head. I pulled the thick blanket up to my chin, contemplating whether I would be safer under the blanket or out here where I could see.
A noise from across the room made my already rapid heart stutter and stop.
“W…who’s there?” I called.
I tried to make my eyes as wide as they would go to try and see if someone was there. I couldn’t see anything but the pitch-black shadows. My breathing was the only sound now and it sounded louder than a freight train.
I blew my cheeks out tight. I had to stop being so loud or I wouldn’t be able to hear if someone really was there. I heard what could have possibly been a footstep. Someone was in there with me!
“I hear you,” my voice shook, but as least there was some volume.
I crawled to the end of the bed, trying to decide if I would be able to bolt to the door or not. Maybe I should just scream. Would anyone hear me? And even if they could, would they be able to get here in time?
Another footstep had me scurrying backwards in the bed. Someone was definitely in the room with me. Who was it?
Ryan!
I covered my mouth with my hand to stop the screaming. Where was Marcus when I needed him? Ryan was back and he was in my bedroom–not just outside of my window.
And Marcus wasn’t here to save me this time. Nothing would stop Ryan from ripping me to shreds or worse. I couldn’t help but remember the last time I had been this close to Ryan. He had killed my dog and chased Marcus and I through the woods.
Three angry red lines still ran up my arm and onto my shoulder from where he had attacked me out of the darkness. I tried not to let the tears I felt coming fall; he would probably hear me cryi
ng and know I was completely at his mercy.
I scooted to the edge of the bed that was closest to the door and put my feet on the floor.
“Please don’t let Sylvia be in bed yet,” I silently pleaded.
There was the sound of a vase falling to the floor and shuffling footsteps. I froze in place–completely terrified–for way too long.
In one motion, I stood up and darted to the door. I didn’t make it, though. Something dark and solid cut off my path and enfolded me in a deep darkness.
I screamed loud then and swung my arms out as hard as I was able. I made contact with the intruder several times, but he never loosened his grip on me. I kicked out at his shins, but only managed to hurt my own feet. His grip only tightened.
It was in that moment that I knew I was going to die. Ryan was going to kill me right there in my bedroom and no one would ever know. There was so much that went through my mind in those brief seconds, but mostly I worried about Marcus.
I wished I could have seen him just one last time so I could tell him how much I loved him still. We had been at such odds with each other since coming to London, I hadn’t even told him goodbye before he left. I could only hope that he wouldn’t blame himself for my death.
Knowing him had made my life better than anything I could have hoped for in Hamel or being married to Edmund Harris. How I regretted not telling him more often! I had let him push me away.
I wondered if he would go tell my aunt and uncle that I was dead. What would he tell them what happened to me? How would Aunt Dora handle it? I wanted to cry for her and Uncle Philip, but there wasn’t time to do much more than be afraid.
I let my head fall back slightly, defeated. There was no point in trying to fight the inevitable. Ryan was going to kill me. I might as well make it easy for him–then maybe he wouldn’t make it hurt so much for me. I closed my eyes tight and waited for it.
“Were you just going to give up, then?” a raspy whisper sounded close to my ear.
“Just hurry and get it over with,” I pleaded.
“You give in too easily, Claudia.”
When he said my name, I knew who it was. “Marcus?”
“You would have let me kill you.” He let go of me too suddenly and I slipped down to my knees. Light flooded softly into the room. My breath caught in a ragged gasp at the familiar sight of him standing so tall and so calm.
“I thought you were Ryan.”
His face darkened instantly and then turned to confusion. “Why would you think Ryan would be in your bedroom?”
“To kill me!”
“Claudia,” he walked quickly back to me, “You’re safe here. Ryan will not come here,” he helped me as I stumbled back to my feet, “ever.”
“Oh,” I tucked my hair behind my ears, adrenaline still pumping through my veins; leaving me dizzy.
“Were you having a bad dream?”
“No,” I said immediately. Flashes of my dream came to mind, but I was hesitant to tell him about it.
“I missed you.”
His words were so different than anything I expected him to say. “What?”
He smiled sadly. “Shouldn’t a husband miss his wife when he’s been away for a while?”
A while? Was he only talking about the few days he had been away this time or the entire time we had spent in London? “Yes, of course.”
Ever so slowly, as if I were still in my dream, his hand came up to brush lightly along my face. His thumb lingered on my jaw line. “I know that,” he cleared his throat softly, “I have been acting strangely. There is a reason for that.”
“What reason?”
He chuckled and looked briefly to the floor. “I can’t say, but it’s almost over.”
It? My heart sped up. Even if I didn’t know what “it” was, it still scared me. I swallowed nervously. “Good,” my head bobbed several times.
He smiled then, a devastating smile that took my breath away, so much like the man I remembered that it caused a physical aching in my chest. “Dance with me, Claudia.”
“There’s no music,” I protested.
“We don’t need music,” his eyes widened slightly.
“Then how will we know which steps to take?”
“Claudia,” he sighed my name. “Just come to me and let me hold you close. We can dance to the rhythm of our hearts beating together.”
I blushed and tucked my hair behind my ears, incredibly self-conscious from the intensity in his eyes. “I don’t think we can…”
“Yes,” he stepped forward, “we can.”
I sighed, willing to forgive him any past transgressions, just for a bit of the happiness we once had. “Okay,” I met him halfway.
I felt the warmth slip into the darkest places of my heart as soon as he wrapped his arms around my waist. I raised my own arms up to touch his shoulders lightly. I was too short to wrap them around his neck, but it was nice the way we were.
“See? This isn’t so bad, is it?” He smiled gently down at me.
“I guess not.” I smiled a tight small smile.
“You guess?”
I squealed when his arms tightened around me and he lifted me off my feet. He swirled me around and around the small space beside the bed. I wrapped my arms tighter around him in an effort not to end up on the floor.
“Put me back down,” I demanded. It may have had more of an effect if I wasn’t laughing so hard.
“You mean I can’t dance with my wife?” he laughed back.
“Of course you can.” He set me back on my feet, but didn’t loosen his hold around my waist.
I didn’t know how any two people could stand closer together. I was pleasantly surprised that I could hear our hearts beating together; a precious rhythm that I thought was gone forever.
“I missed you,” he whispered softly.
“I’ve been right here.”
“But I haven’t.” His fingers played with the curls closest to my ears.
“Why not?” I murmured absently.
The only reason Marcus and I weren’t like this every day was because he wasn’t around. He always had something else he needed to be doing. He should be here with me, I thought selfishly.
“There is just so much about me that you don’t understand.”
My face pulled down into a frown, but luckily he was too tall above me to see it. There was something about Marcus that was different, about all three of my new family, I realized. They weren’t like other people.
Even though I had lived in a small village almost my entire life, I could still easily spot the differences between the other people who lived in London and the three that lived in my house. It wasn’t only because they were all achingly beautiful compared to others either; there was something else going on.
Like the other day, I had been trying to work on my needlepoint in the drawing room with Sylvia and I accidentally pricked my finger with the needle. It was only a small drop of blood, but she had reacted as if I had cut my entire finger off. She had immediately torn a strip off the hem of her dress so she could wrap it around the wounded finger.
I couldn’t understand why she over reacted so strongly, to ruin such a lovely dress. And how had she been able to tear the material so quickly without a pair of scissors? She told me then that she had a rip in the dress already so it came off easily, but I didn’t believe her.
I tilted my chin up so I could see his face. It had been far too long since I’d seen him look at me with so much love. I had despaired that it was gone, but now I knew for sure that our love was a real thing.
He ran his two fingers along my cheek down to my jaw line, sending shivers along my spine. Ever so slowly, he brought his face closer to mine until our lips touched. I let myself fall more completely into him.
Why couldn’t every day be this wonderful? Is this what our life would be like in Hamel? If so, I was ready to go back now, tonight.
It probably wouldn’t have mattered where we went so long as it was away from the
reach of Silango. Somewhere inside I knew that we would never be completely out of his reach; after all, he had found us in Hamel. We just needed to be further away from him then we were.
What had Silango asked Marcus to do? Was he done with whatever it was?
I laid my head against his shoulder while he gently caressed my back. The moonlight through the window cast eerie shadows along the floor and for an unexpected moment, I was reminded of when we first met.
“Was Ryan really Silango?” The words were out before I could stop them. I felt him tense up under my touch.
“Why would you ask that?”
“Sylvia said he wasn’t, but I wanted to hear it from you.”
“You and Sylvia talked about this?”
“A little,” I tried to shrug. He let me go so suddenly that I staggered backwards a few steps. “What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal?” When he turned to look at me, my heart sank. His glare was back.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Why can’t you just leave this matter alone?” He asked through clenched teeth.
“Because,” I tried to reach up for him–tried to steal back the moment that had been ruined, “I love you, Marcus. I want you to be able to trust me. You can tell me anything.”
His face softened a little. “Maybe not anything.”
“Yes. Anything.
“You would run away screaming.”
“No, I wouldn’t,” I insisted stubbornly.
“Some secrets are not meant to be told–to anyone. Not ever.”
“You can’t build a life with secrets.”
“Do you call this a life?” He threw his arm wide and knocked a vase to the floor. I was surprised that the glass didn’t break.
“No.” I bent down to retrieve the vase and set it carefully back on the dresser. “That’s my point. We are husband and wife. These should be happy times.”
“Don’t be so naïve, Claudia. We should have never gotten married. It was a mistake.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“It’s still true.”
“We love each other; that’s why we got married. Not many people can say that.”