by R. L. Stine
Tyler eased the girl away from his side. “Go on back upstairs and get ready for supper. I want to talk to Miss Savannah alone.”
Lucy reluctantly crossed the room and started up the stairs. Savannah gave Victoria a little nudge, and her sister followed the younger girl.
Tyler picked up the ruined portrait and the butcher knife from the floor. “I was hoping Victoria and Lucy wouldn’t notice these.”
“They were too involved in their argument to pay any attention,” Savannah reassured him.
“Do you like your room?” he asked. She could tell that he wanted to please her.
“I like the room,” she said softly. “But, Tyler, why is everything black?”
He sighed deeply. “It was my father’s doing. When my mother died, he said the house went into mourning. He ordered the whole house decorated in black. We can change it now that you’re here.”
Savannah decided not to tell Tyler about Mrs. Mooreland’s rude behavior. There had been enough upheaval for one day.
“I guess I should go up and get ready for supper too,” Savannah said. Tyler nodded. She could feel him watching her as she climbed back up the stairs.
♦ ♦ ♦
Savannah stood in front of the mirror, admiring her blue satin gown. A gift from Tyler.
She turned slightly and looked over her shoulder at her reflection. She had brushed her blond hair until it was as shiny as silk.
This is the way life was before the war, Savannah thought. Wearing beautiful clothes. Getting ready for a special dinner. Feeling pretty.
She strolled out of her room and down the hall to Victoria’s door. She knocked, and Victoria answered, wearing a deep purple dress.
I’m glad Tyler thought to give Victoria a dress too. How could I go down to dinner dressed this way if Victoria was still in one our shabby old dresses.
“You look beautiful,” Savannah exclaimed. “Are you ready to go downstairs?”
Victoria nodded. She ran her fingers over her flannel pouch.
Savannah led the way downstairs. She wrapped her arms around herself as she tried to decide where the dining room would be.
“You feel it too, don’t you?” Victoria asked in a low voice. “There’s something strange about this place. It’s so cold and dark. All these fires and there is no warmth. All the candles in this room and there is so little light.”
Savannah rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “It’s an old house. It’s drafty, that’s all.”
“This way, Savannah,” she heard Tyler call. She followed his voice down the hall and into a formal dining room
Savannah felt like groaning when she saw the black cloth covering the long table. I must do something about all this black, she thought.
Tyler stepped toward her, an appreciative smile on his face. “You look beautiful tonight, Savannah.”
Savannah felt herself blush as Tyler took her hand and brought it to his lips. “So beautiful,” he whispered. He led her to a place near the head of the table. “I want you to sit next to me. And, Victoria, you sit on my other side,” he added quickly.
Lucy ran in and gave a little squeak as Victoria sat down. “That’s my place!” she exclaimed.
“Tonight it is Victoria’s,” Tyler said. “You may sit there tomorrow night.”
Lucy pouted. “May I at least light the candles, then?” she asked.
“No, I will light them,” Mrs. Mooreland said as she entered the room. With an enormous sigh Lucy plopped down in the chair next to Victoria.
Mrs. Mooreland lit the candelabrum. A maid appeared with a tureen of soup and served them each a portion.
Savannah’s mouth watered. Her stomach tightened. It has been so long since I have had a real dinner, she thought.
“Everything smells delicious, Mrs. Mooreland,” Tyler said.
“Thank you, sir,” Mrs. Mooreland said before she hurried from the room.
Savannah glanced at Victoria. Her pouch rested beside her plate. She turned it over and over, constantly touching it.
“Tyler is going to teach me how to ride,” Lucy announced excitedly.
Savannah turned her attention to Lucy. “That’s wonderful. Victoria and I have been riding since we were young. Haven’t we, Victoria?” she asked, trying to draw Victoria’s attention away from her pouch.
“Yes,” Victoria said without glancing up.
“Tyler is going to teach me to play the piano too,” Lucy said.
Lucy has a crush on Tyler, Savannah realized. How adorable she is. Every sentence she utters has Tyler’s name in it.
Savannah took a few sips of her soup. Savoring every vegetable, every spice. Before she could finish, Mrs. Mooreland appeared with the main course—veal and oysters.
As the housekeeper served, Savannah noticed Lucy staring at the candle flames. She could see the flames reflected in Lucy’s dark eyes.
Slowly, Lucy reached toward the flames. Her fingers inching closer and closer.
Victoria slapped Lucy’s hand away. “Stop that!” she ordered.
Lucy wrinkled her tiny nose. “I don’t have to listen to you.”
“Lucy, behave yourself,” Tyler admonished, his voice stern.
Lucy slumped forward. “She’s not my mother.”
“Victoria just didn’t want you to hurt yourself,” Savannah said, pleased that Tyler had sided with her sister.
We will become a family, the four of us, Savannah thought. Together—
A quiet giggle interrupted her thoughts.
She glanced over at Lucy. She was staring at the candle flames again. Staring hard.
Lucy shot out her hand and knocked the candelabrum over.
“Fire!” Lucy cried. “Fire!”
Chapter
17
Savannah leapt from her chair. It fell over with a crash.
She slapped out the flames with her linen napkin. The smell of scorched cloth filled the dining room.
Savannah sighed at the sight of the singed tablecloth. It was damaged beyond repair.
“It was an accident,” Lucy whispered hoarsely.
“No, it wasn’t. You did it on purpose. I saw you,” Victoria scolded.
Lucy raised her eyes to Savannah. “But the flames are so pretty. I like the way they dance.”
Savannah’s heart went out to the child. How can I blame her for finding beauty in the flames when they are the only thing of color in this house?
She picked up her chair and sat back down. “They are pretty, but they are also dangerous. You must not play with the candles anymore.”
“Savannah is right. Go up to bed, Lucy,” Tyler said in a stern voice.
Lucy slipped out of her chair and hurried over to Tyler. “Are you angry with me?” she asked.
She adores him, Savannah thought again.
“Yes,” Tyler answered. Then he tweaked her nose. “But I won’t stay angry long.”
Lucy’s face broke out into a wide grin. “I love you, Tyler,” she cried. Then she skipped out of the room.
“She’s sweet,” Savannah said as they continued with the main course.
“She is a spoiled brat,” Victoria said. She tossed her napkin onto the table. “I am going to bed.” She walked from the room.
Savannah turned to Tyler. “It’s been quite an exciting first day.”
Tyler touched her cheek. “You look tired.”
“I am,” she admitted. “As soon as we finish our meal, I think I’ll go on to bed too.”
♦ ♦ ♦
Savannah thought she would fall asleep immediately. But she lay awake a long time.
My first night in my new home, she thought. Blackrose Manor wasn’t at all what she had expected.
Glowing red embers flew onto the stone hearth with a pop. They burned brightly. Then turned black and died.
Everything is so dark here. So gloomy. It’s little wonder Victoria is uncomfortable here. Maybe I should redecorate her room first.
Savannah stretched her toes towa
rd the warming pan at the foot of her bed. Mrs. Mooreland had brought the pan at Tyler’s request. It had been obvious from her puckered lips that she would have preferred not to go to the trouble. What can I do about Mrs. Mooreland? she wondered.
Savannah yawned. So many things to think about. Victoria. Mrs. Mooreland. Lucy and her fascination with fire.
And Tyler. She was frightened when he attacked the portrait. He looked so fierce and angry.
But I can’t expect him to be exactly the same after the war, Savannah thought. After years of blood and killing.
And he has been so wonderful in so many other ways. Savannah could tell he truly wanted her and Victoria to be happy.
She heard the gentle strains of a violin floating toward her. She sighed softly. I wonder if that is Tyler playing?
It was her last thought as she drifted off to sleep.
Something cold brushed against Savannah’s cheek.
She still felt tired, too tired to open her eyes.
A draft, she thought. This room is filled with drafts.
The cold touch came again. Cold and wet. What is that?
Savannah opened her eyes. She saw a calico tail swishing back and forth at the top of her quilt.
Savannah sat up and pulled back the covers. A small cat stared up at her. It nudged her cheek with its cold little nose.
“Where did you come from?” she asked.
The cat purred and licked her hand with its rough tongue. Savannah smiled.
The door opened and a young woman wearing a black uniform ran in. She wore her bright red hair in two braids beneath a white lace cap. Light freckles dotted her face.
Her gray eyes widened and she came to a dead stop when she saw that Savannah was awake. She bobbed a quick curtsy.
“Oh, miss, I am so sorry. The cat slipped away from me.”
Savannah stroked the cat’s fur. Its purr vibrated low in its throat. “Don’t be silly. He’s sweet. What’s his name?”
“Calico.” The young woman blushed.
“I like the name,” Savannah told her.
The woman bobbed another curtsy. “My name is Hattie.”
“I’m Savannah.”
“Yes, miss, I know. Mr. Fier hired me this morning as a maid for you and your sister.” Her cheeks pinkened as she peered at Savannah through her long lashes. “He told me you were the pretty one.”
Savannah felt herself blush at Tyler’s compliment. He is certainly spoiling me, she thought. I should do something special for him. But what?
She remembered his smile as she walked into the dining room wearing the blue gown. I will wear it again this evening, she thought.
“Hattie, would you do me a favor? Would you press my blue silk dress for me? It’s hanging in the closet.”
Hattie bobbed up and down. “Certainly, miss.” With a light bounce in her step, she crossed the room and opened the closet door.
“The dress is lovely, isn’t it?” Savannah asked when she heard Hattie’s quick intake of breath.
Hattie turned to face her. All color had drained from the girl’s face.
“What is it, Hattie?” Savannah cried. “What’s wrong?”
Chapter
18
“The dress, miss. It’s . . . it’s . . .” Hattie reached into the closet and pulled the dress out. She held it up for Savannah to see.
Savannah gasped in disbelief. Long, jagged tears ran from the shoulders to the hem.
Savannah eased the cat off her lap and slipped out of bed. She shuddered as her feet hit the ice-cold stone floor.
“Oh, no,” she murmured as she ran her fingers over the rips. Her beautiful dress! How did this happen? Savannah wondered. It couldn’t have been an accident.
“Your dress is ruined!”
Startled by Lucy’s voice, Savannah spun around. The younger girl had come in without knocking and was staring at the dress.
How long had she been there? Savannah wondered. Was she listening outside the door?
“Tyler gave you that dress, didn’t he?” Lucy asked.
“Yes, he did,” Savannah said.
Lucy frowned. “He said you were beautiful. He’ll be sad when he finds out it was ruined.”
“Yes, he will be sad,” Savannah replied. “So I don’t want to tell him. I want to keep it a secret.”
Lucy’s eyes glittered. “I’m good at keeping secrets.” She reached out and took Savannah’s hand. “I’m so glad you’re finally awake. I want to show you my doll collection.”
“I will get dressed,” Savannah told her.
“But I’ve been waiting all morning. Please come now.”
Lucy’s excitement was contagious. I’m glad that she lived so far north, away from the war. It would have changed her so.
“All right,” Savannah said. She pulled on her dressing gown. “Show me your dolls.”
Lucy tugged Savannah across the hall. “This is my room,” she said with pride. She opened the door and skipped in.
Savannah followed Lucy into the room, not surprised to find the room decorated in black.
It was wrong to do this to a child’s room, she thought. And Lucy is still a child. Her room was filled with dolls—on the bed, on the dresser, on the shelves, on the floor. Porcelain dolls. Rag dolls.
A cold draft caused goose bumps to form along Savannah’s arms. All the dolls had black hair like Lucy’s, she noticed. All the dolls had black eyes. All the dolls wore black dresses.
Are the dolls all in mourning just like this house? she wondered. What a joyless place for a child to grow up.
Lucy flung herself across her bed. Two dolls leaning against the headboard fell forward. Lucy picked one up and hugged it close against her.
“These are all my friends,” Lucy said solemnly. “Tyler always brings me a new doll every time he goes away.”
Savannah sat on the edge of the bed. How sad that Lucy doesn’t have any real friends. “I would like to be your friend too,” she said.
Lucy’s forehead wrinkled. “I don’t think you can.”
“Why not?” Savannah asked. She tried not to feel hurt. Lucy would need some time to get used to her.
Lucy shook her head. “We can’t be friends because Tyler brought you here to live. So we’re almost sisters. I have always wanted a sister. I think a sister would be much better than a friend.”
Savannah hugged Lucy close. “I have always wanted another sister.”
Lucy hopped off the bed and picked up a rag doll from a rocking chair. The doll was as tall as Lucy.
“Tyler gave me this doll first,” she said, smiling brightly. “Don’t you think she’s pretty?”
“She’s very pretty,” Savannah assured her. “What’s her name?”
“Her name is Lucy.” She dropped the doll back into the chair. “Which doll do you like best?”
Savannah pretended to consider the question with great seriousness. “I’m not sure,” she said. She stood and tapped her finger against her lips. “They are all so pretty.”
“You have to pick one,” Lucy insisted.
Savannah walked around the room, studying all the dolls. Lucy grinned with delight.
Savannah spotted a doll lying on its side on top of the dresser bureau. Its profile was perfect: a small nose, a ruddy cheek, thin lips, a large, shining black eye.
I’ll pick this doll, Savannah decided. She lifted it up and gasped.
The other side of the doll’s face was smashed in. Tiny bits of jagged china formed a gaping hole where the eye had been.
“What happened to this doll?” Savannah asked Lucy.
“I killed her.”
Chapter
19
Lucy’s black eyes were big and serious. Savannah felt a chill sweep through her.
Then Lucy began to giggle. “I didn’t really kill her. She fell off the bureau. That’s how she broke her face.”
Savannah released her breath with a whoosh.
Lucy sighed. “She was the prettiest doll.
The other dolls were happy when she got hurt.”
She’s teasing me, Savannah thought, fighting off a feeling of alarm. “They weren’t really happy,” Savannah said.
“Yes, they were,” Lucy insisted. “They were very happy Lucy got hurt.”
Savannah felt confused. “I thought the big doll in the rocker was named Lucy.”
“Silly Savannah,” Lucy exclaimed. “All the dolls are named Lucy.”
Lucy glanced around the room. Then she leaned close to Savannah. “Except one,” she whispered. Lucy crooked her finger. “Follow me.”
Savannah set the porcelain doll back on the dresser and followed Lucy to the closet. Lucy opened the door and pulled out a large doll.
“This is Tyler,” she said proudly. She sat down and placed the doll in her lap.
Savannah studied the strange doll. Its black hair was cropped short and was longer on one side than the other. Its clothes were a little too big. And its eyes. Its eyes were blue.
“He does look like Tyler,” Savannah told Lucy.
“I made him,” Lucy explained. “I told Tyler I wanted a boy doll, but he always brought me girl dolls. So I cut off this doll’s hair. And one day when Mrs. Mooreland made blueberry cobbler, I stole some juice and painted the eyes blue.”
“That was very clever,” Savannah said, impressed by Lucy’s efforts.
“And I snuck into the attic and found some of the clothes Tyler wore when he was tiny,” she said. Her eyes gleamed. “Don’t tell Tyler. He doesn’t like me sneaking though the house.”
Savannah smiled. “Since you’re keeping my secret about the dress, it’s only fair that I keep your secret about the doll.”
“I like sharing secrets,” Lucy whispered. “Someday I will tell you all the secrets.”
♦ ♦ ♦
Secrets, Savannah thought as she left Lucy’s room and crossed the hall. When I was Lucy’s age, I loved secrets too. But I shared all my secrets with Victoria.
She opened the door to her room and froze. Victoria stood beside her bed, slipping something beneath her pillow.
“Victoria, what are you doing?” Savannah demanded.
Victoria jumped away from the bed. “Nothing.”
