“Is there something bothering you, Adelaide? I’m afraid if you’re having second thoughts, it might be a bit late to do anything about them… unless you wish to incur a scandal that would ruin us both,” Eldren uttered softly. The words, soft-spoken as they were, held a hint of steel, however.
“I am not having second thoughts. Third, fourth, fifth… They may number into the hundreds now, but you are quite right in one regard. They no longer matter in the slightest.”
“As to your question,” he said, “We will be dining with one of my business associates, Mr. Silas Elam, and his bride, Mrs. Lucille Elam. You may know her. She’s an American. From New York, as I understand it. We have a suite of rooms at the Grosvenor Hotel.” He looked as if he wished to say something further but the conductor called their boarding and he simply closed his mouth and offered her his arm. Adelaide took it, allowing him to assist her aboard as a porter ushered them along the corridor to their small compartment. Eldren paused at the door, “I will locate Dyllis and have her bring you something more appropriate for traveling.”
With that, he was gone and Adelaide was alone in the small car. The shades were already drawn and only the faintest light penetrated the dimness. A moment later, Dyllis entered carrying a black traveling costume over her arm. She was brisk, helping Adelaide out of the ivory suit and into the black one. They didn’t bother with her ruffled blouse, but left it. It would likely be ruined, but was easier to replace than the entire suit would have been. A simple black hat was pinned atop the rather elaborate coiffure Dyllis had battled with earlier in the day and when it was all done, the maid disappeared once more without a word.
Alone, once more garbed in black, Adelaide seated herself on one of the well padded banquettes. Opening the shades of the window, she stared out at the platform of the station as the engine began its crescendo. A woman stood near the doors of the ticketing office, her blonde hair piled high in a cascade of pretty curls. But it wasn’t that which alarmed Adelaide. It was the cold fury that marked the woman’s pretty face as she glared in the direction of their train car. Frances.
Though she’d only seen her the one time, a woman that lovely was unmistakeable. What on earth was she doing there?
The door to the compartment opened and Eldren stepped inside.
“Frances was just there… at the station,” Adelaide said, gesturing toward the platform. But the woman, if it had indeed been Frances, was gone, vanished into nothingness. “She was there, Eldren. I saw her!”
“I’m certain you saw someone. And it may well have been Frances as obedience is not her strong suit. But it’s of little import as she will not be permitted admittance to Cysgod Lys, so there is nothing to fear. And Warren will be joining us in London in a matter of days,” he said. “There is nothing to worry about.”
But there was. Frances was petty, vindictive and mean. If she’d returned it was for a reason and Adelaide found that much harder to put from her mind than her new husband did apparently. Unsettled, uncertain and filled with doubts about everything from the wisdom of her choice to go through with the wedding to leaving Cysgod Lys for London, Adelaide struggled to find some small measure of peace in her troubled mind.
* * *
Their journey had been made largely in silence. Eldren was aware, of course, that it was not necessarily a joyous day for his bride. Nor was it for him. But he’d had a much longer time to acclimate himself to the notion of a chaste and loveless marriage. At her young age, no doubt Adelaide had held very different hopes for her wedding day.
Staring at her, taking in the soft curve of her cheek and the tilt of her head, he wondered what she would be like with children of her own. Would she be patient and loving as his own mother had never been to him? Or would she deposit her children with a nanny and never be bothered with them? Realizing that such thoughts, thoughts of things that could never be, were simply unnecessary torment, Eldren elected to shove them far from his mind and focus on something more immediately pressing.
Had it truly been Frances? Would she be so bold? Possibly. Though what she hoped to gain he could not say. He’d left strict orders for the servants that she was not to be admitted to the house and was to be escorted form the grounds. If she showed her face there, she’d be utterly humiliated by being turned out. Of course, he’d long since given up understanding the workings of Frances’ mind and the pleasure she took in manipulating others.
As the silence in the small compartment grew thick, he couldn’t stop himself from glancing at Adelaide. She had a book with her, a small volume opened in her hands, but the page had not been turned in ages and it was clear to him that reading was simply a guise to avoid conversation. She was as lost in her own thoughts as he was.
Needing to break the silence, to ease the tension that had crept between them, he said, “Your father’s friend in London, the one who has the interests in mysticism… do you know him well?”
She closed the book but left it laying in her lap like a weapon at the ready. “Not very well. I had met him several times and we had dinner at his house before we left for Paris. He was very kind to me and he did take great pleasure in regaling us with his stories of encounters with the occult. Obviously, I cannot attest to the veracity of his claims.”
“Even after all that you have encountered at Cysgod Lys, you question that such things exist?” he queried.
She considered her answer carefully if the thoughtful expression that schooled her features was any indication. Finally, she said, “No. I am a believer that there are things in this world that we cannot explain, things that defy rational thought and belief… but I also recognize that many people long to believe in such things, to be touched by something extraordinary. Their desires sway their perception of events so that an occurrence or incident which may be normal becomes, in their very eager memories, paranormal.”
“And Lord Mortimer is an eager believer? Perhaps overly eager?”
Her shoulders lifted in a gesture of uncertainty. Too subtle to be qualified as a shrug, it still drew his gaze to the prominence of her bosom beneath the many layers of clothing she wore. Such awareness, such temptation, was ill advised and he quickly looked away.
“I cannot say if Lord Mortimer has in fact had any experience with the occult or if he is just a man who longs for such things to be true. I know he is a widower and that he professes to have loved his late wife very much. Perhaps it is his grief for her loss that prompts him to indulge in such practices. Regardless, I think that he might be the best place to start looking for answers. He may be able to direct us to someone who is more well versed in such things… Assuming you wish to pursue more information about what may be occurring at your ancestral home?”
“I’m not opposed to knowing more. I just have no wish to be fodder for the gossip mill. Can this man be trusted, do you think?” Eldren asked.
“I certainly hope so. I think that Lord Mortimer is far more concerned with learning all that he can about the unexplainable than with whispering behind his hands to others,” Adelaide said. “At any rate, we shall call upon him and see. We need not divulge everything at the outset.”
“I agree that we should be circumspect… You cannot toss a rock in this country, or any part of the British Isles for that matter, without it landing upon some crumbling pile of rocks that is rumored to be haunted. But what we have, what we are dealing with, is somewhat different, I think.”
The conversation lapsed again. They were an hour yet from Chester and had run out of things to say to one another. It did not bode well.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
It was nearly one o’clock when they arrived in Chester. Eldren hired a carriage to convey them to the hotel and a small cart to bring their bags along afterward. Dyllis and their bags were ushered up to their rooms as soon as they reached the Grosvenor Hotel while Adelaide and Eldren were ushered into the dining room for a light luncheon.
It was still tense between them, still strained. Somehow, getting married ha
d made things worse between them. They’d gotten along well enough before, and now, for reasons Adelaide couldn’t quite understand, they could barely stand to be near one another. Permanency, perhaps? For better or for worse, they were now effectively stuck with one another.
They passed their meal as they had much of their journey—in silence. When they’d finished their meal and were being shown to their suite, Adelaide noted how nervous the bellman was. Perhaps he was new, she thought, or perhaps Eldren had stayed there before and been a demanding patron, though given what she knew of him that seemed unlikely. Or perhaps he sensed the tension between the two of them. She wasn’t certain but the poor man was sweating profusely and every painfully polite word from his mouth was stammered and uncertain. As exhausting as it was to be in his presence, she couldn’t imagine what it must be like for the poor boy. When he finally opened the door to the suite and let them pass, she found herself relieved to be alone with Eldren. That in and of itself was rather shocking.
“It’s been a long day. I have some business matters to attend to, but you should have a nap if you’re tired,” he offered.
She wasn’t tired, but it would be a reprieve nonetheless, a moment alone where she didn’t have to pretend everything was fine. “I will have a bit of a lie down, thank you.”
“We’ll be meeting the Elam’s at six,” he replied smoothly. “Good afternoon, Adelaide.”
When the door closed behind him as he fled into the hall, Adelaide breathed a sigh of relief. Would it always be like this for them, she thought? Avoiding one another, doing anything necessary to avoid being alone in one another’s company? She found herself missing the congenial conversation and the relative ease they’d had with one another in the first days after she’d reached Cysgod Lys. Not for the first time that day she wondered if she had not made a terrible mistake.
Stripping down to her corset and chemise, Adelaide draped the other garments over the chair. Easing herself onto the bed, she let the weariness she had felt for so long overtake her. She prayed for a reprieve from the nightmares. Perhaps in a new location, free from the terror inducing shrieks of Eldren’s mother, she would find some peace.
Her eyes fluttered close and sleep crept in. But it was not the dreamless sleep she had longed for and it was far from a reprieve from Cysgod Lys. Instead, her dream found her in the darkened halls of that house, standing in a single circle of light as long shadows flickered and danced about her, taking on threatening shapes and seeming to writhe like a living thing. The whispers surrounded her. Come to us. Come to us. Let us in. She tried to move, to flee, but her feet were rooted to the spot. The shadows drew closer, dark shapes slithering over the patterned carpet to curl around her feet and ankles. The light began to fade until she could see nothing. And then it all transformed. It was no longer shadows tangling about her and holding her down, but water.
The cold blackness of it swamped her, creeping over her body until she was once more submerged to the waist, her fingers trapped in the roughened ropes of the rigging. The whispers were replaced with the screams and sobs of the other women who had managed to survive with her. They were interspersed with the cries for help from those already in the water, waiting for death.
Trapped in her nightmare, half memory and half terror stricken fantasy, the water did not stop at her waist. The ship did not come to rest on the very rocks that it had struck causing it to sink. Instead, the Mohegan shifted in that water, plunging deeper as the cold consumed her. She opened her mouth to scream and the black, icy water invaded it, filling it until she was robbed of all her air. The feeling of suffocating, the burning in her lungs as she struggled with the most primal desire to preserve life at all costs, finally pulled her from the dream.
She sat up in bed, gasping, her body slicked with a light sheen of sweat. Tremors wracked her and goosebumps has raised on her skin. A glance at the clock on the mantle showed her that it was nearly four. She’d been asleep far longer than she’d anticipated. But that would give her time to bathe and wash away the remnants of the dream before she met Eldren and the Elam’s for dinner. There was a sharp pain in her ribs. Either one of the bones in her corset had broken and was stabbing her or it had shifted enough as she tossed and turned in the throes of a nightmare to do damage.
Climbing from the bed, Adelaide padded on her bare feet toward the bathroom. Stepping into the glaringly white room lined with tile, the door banged behind her and the sound echoed so loudly that she jumped. It was only the after effects of the dream, she told herself.
Adelaide turned on the water and waited for it to warm as she pressed her feet more firmly against the floor, savoring how cool and refreshing the tile felt. It helped her feel more firmly rooted in the moment and to dispel any lingering effects of her nightmare.
Rather than call for Dyllis, Adelaide elected to see to her bath alone. She wasn’t quite ready to face anyone just yet, not when she still felt so raw from the dream. With the water growing warmer, she placed the stopper in the drain and rose to remove the last of her clothing.
Tugging at the laces of her corset, they tangled and twisted. Even standing near the mirror and looking over her shoulder, she could not free the knot. It felt as if the garment were growing tighter rather than looser. Between that, her exertions and the leftover panic from her nightmare, she was struggling. At the point of desperation, Adelaide was ready to call for Dyllis, after all. But then she spotted the small case which held her tooth powder, soaps and other sundry items, including a small manicure kit with scissors. Desperate to be free of her corset which was pinching her ribs painfully, Adelaide rifled through everything, making a mess of all of it until she found the small scissors.
Reaching behind her, she snipped at the laces until one finally separated entirely. She tugged and pulled until the garment loosened enough for her to remove the thing. When she did, she drew in a deep unimpeded breath and let it out on a sigh. She caught sight of her reflection and noted the dark marks over her ribs. Just below her last rib, there were scratches across her skin. Long and angry, the three red lines welled with a bit of blood. Adelaide picked up the corset from the floor to examine it. The bones were intact. None had broken. There were no rough seams or anything that would account for the marks on her body. And yet it was stained inside with smears of blood from the cuts on her skin. Despite that, the garment was completely intact but for the laces she’d hacked to bits.
A sick feeling of dread settled over her then. They had left Cysgod Lys, but it had not left them. Had that been the source of their acrimonious interactions through the day? Was it the weight of the house and their absence from it that had caused such a deterioration of harmony? Those were questions only Eldren could answer, but she could not face him just yet. The bath, she decided. When she’d washed the grime of travel from her completely and dressed in fresh clothes, she would speak to him about it before dinner.
For now, she’d ease her aches and pains, as well as her worries, by sinking into a warm bath and ignoring the sense of dread that threatened to overwhelm her.
* * *
Eldren heard the pipes thumping in the wall and the faint sound of water running. Adelaide was up, it seemed, and readying herself to meet the Elam’s. It had been a difficult day for the both of them. Neither had been of a particularly pleasant mood. There was little reason to doubt that they were both questioning whether or not they’d made the right choice in going through with a wedding when they barely knew one another and the dark history of the Llewellyn clan hanging over them. But it wasn’t that which tormented him at the moment. It was the image of her, naked in a tub of warm water. If he closed his eyes, he could see it and it tempted him beyond anything. Had he really thought he could have a chaste union with her? One where they never consummated their marriage? She was seducing him and she wasn’t even in the room with him.
Scrubbing his hands over his face, he sat down at the writing desk that inhabited one small corner of his room. There were letters and
telegraphs to respond to. But the words swam before his eyes and after a few moments, he gave up any pretense of trying to work. If he were home, he would go to that small, dark room in the cellar and pound on the heavy leather bag that he’d been using for ages to relieve all of his inner turmoil. His knuckles were callused and scarred from having split open numerous times over the years from such abuse. That pain, a distraction from the other forms of torment he suffered, would be a welcome reprieve.
It was never easy to leave the house. The longer he stayed away from it, the greater his feelings of unease would become. That house consumed every one in it, in one way or another. He didn’t think he’d ever be free of it. And now he’d dragged an innocent girl into the mess of it with him. Not a girl. A woman. One who seemed to have little tolerance for foolishness and, when it came to voicing her opinions, a will of iron. She wasn’t brash, but she certainly was not lacking bravado. Perhaps it was an American trait.
Lacking the ability to do anything else but think of her, Eldren rose and retrieved his recently discarded coat. He’d have a drink in the hotel bar and hopefully regain some sense of equilibrium and control over his libido.
He’d no more than reached his door when he heard her scream.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Adelaide had lingered too long in the bath and the water had begun to cool. But the string of sleepless nights and violent nightmares had left her exhausted to the point that her body ached with it. Even the nap she’d taken earlier, disturbed as it had been, had not left her rested. Exhaustion, she feared, would soon become a permanent state.
The Victorian Gothic Collection: Volumes 1-3 Page 11
