The Victorian Gothic Collection: Volumes 1-3

by Bowlin, Chasity

  In his arms, Madame Leola let out a muffled cry. It was the only sound she’d uttered since he’d reached her side.

  “I have you. You’re going to be fine.”

  “Don’t let them keep me,” she murmured. “I cannot die here.”

  “You’re not going to die,” he vowed. “I promise. Now hush and save your strength.”

  Eldren began the arduous trek to the house. Each step felt like a battle. It wasn’t the weight of the woman in his arms. It wasn’t even the fear he felt. It seemed as if the ground itself was clutching at his feet, slowing his progress. It was like walking in heavy snow, weighted and clutching.

  Her words replayed in his mind. Don’t let them keep me, she’d said. Not it, but them. It wasn’t the land that was clutching at him and holding him in place, making every step a nearly impossible task. It was unseen entities, spirits clinging to them in a way that made his blood run cold.

  When at least he reached the boundary of the small stone fence, the wind began to howl and blow fiercely. So much so, that it almost kept him there. It pushed at him, tugged at his clothes. His feet slipped in the muck, sliding backward by several inches. Eldren was struggling to stay upright, to shield the already injured woman. And yet whatever forces ruled that moor, clearly had plans for them that did not involve their escape.

  To his right, one of the few trees that grew there swayed alarmingly. The upper branches creaked and groaned. One by one they began to fall. It was only a matter of minutes before the entire tree came crashing down. Roots in such peaty ground would be shallow.

  With the last of his strength, Eldren pushed forward against that punishing wind and managed, only just, to pass the fence line. The moment his feet touched the ground on the other side of it, the wind simply ceased. The air around them grew so still and so silent that it was somehow even more terrifying than the cacophony that had preceded it.

  Against his better judgement, and yet plagued by such curiosity he could not hope to ignore it, Eldren glanced over his shoulder at the moor. It was not simply empty space beset with fog. There were figures hidden in that fog, their dark silhouettes barely visible as they meandered in and out of it in a macabre and terrifying vision.

  “Give her to me!”

  Eldren jumped, his heart lurching up into his throat as he turned to face Lord Mortimer who’d come rushing out of the house. He’d been so intent on what was happening behind him that he hadn’t heard the other man approach.

  “In all fairness, Mortimer, I’m a younger man and far more capable of carrying her than you are,” Eldren said and took a step forward with Madame Leola still in his arms to prove the point. “But walk with me, should I falter.”

  Mortimer fell in step beside him as he climbed the remaining incline to the house. There was a flurry of activity in the foyer. Maids were rushing to and fro with water and bandages. Footmen were there to relieve him of his burden and carry the injured woman up the stairs to her chamber. Tromley was issuing his edicts. And Adelaide was standing in the center of it, utterly still, her face pale and white. She looked fragile in that moment and yet he knew how very deceptive that appearance could be. There was a well of strength inside her that humbled him. And now, he was forced to admit, that there were other things inside her as well. Talents and abilities that he had no hope of understanding. In some ways, he was as afraid of her as he was for her. But his own fears could be addressed later. At the moment, it was very obvious that she needed him.

  He closed the distance between them and placed his hands on her upper arms, almost forcing her to look up at him. “She’s not fully conscious, but she did speak. There is strength in her still.”

  “I don’t really know what to do. I always understood that my life was very idle, and even the things I busied myself with were fairly inane and useless, but I have never felt more useless and purposeless than I do right now.”

  “Your purpose now is to comfort your friend. Go upstairs, sit with her, soothe her and care for her the best you can. No one can ask more,” he said. “The doctor will arrive from the village soon enough, though I have no notion what he will do for her that we could not already. Go on, Adelaide. I mean to get some brandy for Mortimer and myself… and you if you’d like it.”

  She responded with a watery laugh. “I think I may actually take you up on that. I don’t care for it at all, but no one can question its effectiveness in times of strife.”

  “Go and see to her. I’ll join you shortly.”

  Watching her walk away, Eldren took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Yes, he feared these new talents that were developing within his wife, awakened by the mystic who could very well die under their roof. But he recognized in that moment that he feared life without her far more.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Lord Mortimer paced in the hall as the maids were helping to change Leola out of her ruined clothes. The sight of her face, so pale and still when she was normally so very animated, had left him more shaken than he cared to admit. Regret was a bitter thing, and he had many causes for it. Her recent admission had startled him, challenged him in ways he had been ill prepared for, and his reaction had created a divide between them that he now wondered if he would have an opportunity to rectify.

  “We’re finished with her, my lord,” one of the maids uttered as she dipped a hasty curtsy in the hall.

  “Thank you,” he said and moved past her into the room where Leola had made her confession only the night before.

  She lay in the center of the bed, her face nearly as white as the linen of her gown. One shoulder had been left bare and a heavy bandage was tied over the wound, but it was already turning red with blood that still seeped far too freely. Picking up one of the many strips of linen, he folded it carefully and moved to the side of the bed and placed it over the bandage, pressing lightly in an effort to staunch the bleeding. Her lashed fluttered and then her eyes opened.

  “What are you doing in here?”

  “I’m attempting to take care of you, my dear,” he said softly.

  “You shouldn’t. I don’t want you here… not out of guilt or obligation. I couldn’t bear it,” she said brokenly.

  His eyebrows arched upward at that and a slight smile touched his lips, “Then it is a very good thing that neither of those feelings are a motivation for me.”

  “John, please… just go.”

  He wanted to protest, but there was a soft and hesitant knock at the door. After a moment’s hesitation, Lade Montkeith entered.

  “How is she?”

  “Awake and obstinate,” he replied.

  Lady Montkeith’s gaze turned to the bed. “Oh, thank heavens. I was so afraid we wouldn’t reach you in time.”

  “You knew?”

  “I called for her,” Leola said softly. “Go, John. Leave me in Lady Montkeith’s care.”

  He wanted to protest, but in the end thought better of it. She was already weakened from her injury and being in his presence, for the moment at least, offered her no peace. Protesting would have been for his own benefit and not hers and he’d been selfish enough. “I’ll return shortly to look in on you. And to get to the bottom of this.”

  With that he rose, nodded to Lady Montkeith and left the room. He encountered Lord Montkeith on the landing. “I’ve been dismissed,” he said.

  “I see. I think it might be best to leave Adelaide and Madame Leola alone for a moment… there were things that occurred today, things I cannot explain. After the doctor has arrived and treated her wounds, we’ll begin trying to ferret out what actually occurred and whom is responsible,” Lord Montkeith said. “Join me in the sitting room for a drink. I think we could both use it.”

  John nodded. “Indeed. Or several.”

  * * *

  “I wasn’t certain it would work,” Madame Leola said.

  Adelaide shuddered. “I don’t how you did it, but I was so terrified when we saw you there on the moor. I thought—.” She broke off abruptly, unable to complete th
e thought.

  “That I was beyond your help already?”

  Adelaide nodded. “Precisely. I feared the worst. Thank heavens I was wrong. Who did this to you, Leola?”

  “It can’t be very difficult to guess,” the other woman said somewhat bitterly.

  “Frances? But why?”

  Leola was weakening. Adelaide could see it. The other woman’s eyes were drifting closed.

  “It doesn’t matter why. We’ll deal with that soon enough,” Adelaide continued. “For now, we need to get your wounds taken care of. I don’t understand what’s taking that doctor so long!”

  There was no response. Leola had lapsed into unconsciousness. Adelaide stayed with her, continuing to hold pressure on the still seeping wound. It seemed to take hours as she sat there fretting and worrying. At long last, the door opened and one of the maids ushered the doctor in.

  “What’s happened to her?” he asked.

  “We don’t know exactly,” Adelaide skirted the truth. “We found her lying on the moor. She’s been stabbed or cut, but I cannot say with what or by whom.”

  The doctor’s bushy ginger and white brows shot toward his receding hairline in a manner that might have been comical in better circumstances. “And what the devil was she doing on the moor? No good can come of that place. Too much blood shed there over many centuries for it to be anything but wicked now.”

  “Those are rather superstitious mutterings for a man of science, doctor,” Adelaide said, her voice dripping with censure.

  “Not everything can be explained by science, your ladyship. I’ve lived in these parts for all of my life, save for the time I was away for my studies and training. I know what’s whispered of here… on that moor, and here at Cysgod Lys. I’m a man of faith as well as science. Faith requires that I believe in the almighty. Science requires that I believe in balance, and to that end, there has to be as much evil in the world as good.”

  “What a startlingly sensible approach to something that is intrinsically difficult to categorize, doctor. Perhaps we can entertain spiritual and metaphysical conversations when my friend is not bleeding so severely?” The suggestion was uttered mildly, but it overflowed with reproach.

  He glanced at the wan figure in the bed. “It’s not bleeding so badly. If you’ll be kind enough as to step outside. I can tell from here that she’ll need sutures and plenty of them. I doubt you’ve the stomach to watch a needle piercing flesh again and again as will be required.”

  “I have less stomach for leaving her alone to a strange man. Should she wake during your ministrations, a familiar face would likely soothe her fears,” Adelaide said. Determined to stay, she did rise and walk around to the other side of the bed, permitting the doctor room to work.

  “Well enough,” he said and moved to the basin near the fire to wash his hands. Afterward, he doused them with whiskey and his instruments as well.

  It was an old practice and there were other chemicals that would have sterilized as effectively if not more so. Adelaide suspected that the whiskey was as much for the doctor’s own hydration as for the disinfecting of his many implements. Still, she was rather gratified that he seemed to have some inkling of how not to spread disease and putrification.

  As the doctor moved to the bed and began to peel away the layers of bandages, Adelaide had to bite back a gasp of horror. The angry red slash went from the top of Leola’s shoulder down her arm. The doctor made a grunting noise.

  “What does that mean?”

  “What?” He asked.

  “You grunted when you viewed the wound. What did you mean by it?”

  “I meant nothing by it, my lady. Other than thinking to myself it’ll take forever to stitch it up. And it will scar. Quite badly I fear. It’s also going to burn like the very devil as it will have to be thoroughly disinfected. There will be bits of cloth and dirt in the wound. And depending on the state the weapon was in, whatever nasty things might have been transferred from it. Make no mistake, Lady Montkeith, the true danger to your friend does not lie in the severity of her wound, but in the risk for infection,” he warned seriously.

  “Please do what you can for her,” Adelaide implored. “She’s a very kind woman, doctor. She did not deserve what has happened to her. I fear we invited her and thrust her into harm’s way. I couldn’t bear it if she were to perish because of that.”

  “I will do all that I can. As will you, my lady. She is young and appears to be in good health otherwise,” he offered, in an attempt to be reassuring. From his obvious discomfiture, it was clearly not something he did often.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  It had been two long days that they’d been holding vigil over Madame Leola. She had lapsed in and out of consciousness, murmuring nonsensical phrases that meant nothing to anyone. But finally, that afternoon, she had rallied. Her fevered ravings had settled into true, peaceful sleep. From that point, it had been nothing more than waiting.

  Lord Mortimer snored in a wing chair in the corner of Madame Leola’s room. Eldren sat upon a straight backed chair beside the bed. He’d hoped the uncomfortable seat would help him to remain awake, but it was failing. He’d forced Adelaide to go to bed only a short time earlier and, breaking with protocol, he’d had Dyllis remain with her on a small cot set up in their bedchamber. Considering what had occurred the last time he left her to sleep alone, he would not be doing so again.

  The woman on the bed stirred, her head tossing from side to side. The laudanum was beginning to wear off. As her eyes fluttered open, she turned to him instantly. There was no confusion or disorientation, even when awakening from her drugged state. It was unnerving.

  “Where is Lady Montkeith?” She asked.

  “I sent her to bed… and I had her maid stay with her so she would not be alone,” he replied. “But you don’t need to worry about her. She will be fine. You are the one who was very nearly at death’s door, Madame Leola. Tell me who did this to you.”

  She eyed him cautiously. “You don’t think I did it myself in order to manipulate you? It isn’t simply a part of my charlatan tactics?”

  Eldren didn’t blush, nor did he look away. “I will admit that I had suspicions when you arrived. But they have been allayed over the last few days, as well you know. And what I witnessed this afternoon, with Adelaide so….so connected to you, I cannot be anything less than a believer. So tell me, Madame Leola, who is responsible for your injuries so that I might see them brought to justice.”

  “You cannot, Lord Montkeith. Not without courting disastrous scandal. You see, it was your sister-in-law, Frances, Mrs. Warren Llewellyn… she is quite unhinged, I fear. But in places such as this, where power flows so freely, it is so easy to be corrupted by it.”

  Eldren sighed. “This house did not corrupt Frances. If anything, she may have corrupted it further, if such a thing is possible.”

  Madame Leola grimaced as she tried to shift her weight in the bed. “There may well have been some cross corruption, my lord, but I can say with complete certainty that whatever power exists here has driven Frances to the brink of madness and beyond. I could see it in her eyes. She’s taken too much of the darkness into herself and it will destroy her… but she means to do something truly diabolical, and she must be stopped.”

  “More diabolical than attempting to murder you?” Eldren demanded.

  Madame Leola sighed wearily. It was clear from her expression that she was weighing precisely how much to say. “I think she means to rid herself of the child… but more than that, I think the entity that has infested Cysgod Lys means for that child to be portal into the physical world.”

  “That’s impossible!”

  “Is it?” She demanded. “Frances is hardly the maternal sort. She has no interest in the child but she is very interested in what the child is to inherit! I believe with all my heart, Lord Montkeith, that she means to use that child to gain some sort of upper hand here. But she’s made a terrible miscalculation.”

  “And what is that
?” Eldren demanded. He had ignored Frances as much as possible, choosing to not even acknowledge her presence in the home.

  “She means to barter the child to the darkness here… to give it life and form by letting it possess the child she carries.”

  That statement made his blood run cold. In truth, he had not given much thought to the child itself. To that point, he’d been thinking only of Frances and how she would forever be part of their lives because of it. Still, he recoiled in horror at what Madame Leola was suggesting. “You’re speaking of possession. Is such a thing possible?”

  “Possession is entirely possible. But this isn’t simple possession, my lord. This thing would become the child. It’s soul, it’s life would be forfeit. She would give birth to darkness, or so she has promised… but she means to renege on her bargain, and in doing so rid herself of the child she carries. If she does this, if she succeeds, the anger and fury from this being—I cannot say what would happen. We must act quickly and bring a halt to these twisted machinations.”

  He hated himself for asking the question, but he felt compelled to do so. “As callous as it sounds, would it truly be so terrible if Frances were permitted to bring an end to her pregnancy?”

  “It would,” Madame Leola said ominously. “The consequences would be—we have not seen the worst of this dark entity, Lord Montkeith. And if Frances does not uphold her end of the bargain, we will. It would be fearsome and terrible in ways you cannot imagine.”

  Eldren placed one hand over his eyes. He was tired. Beyond tired, in truth. The burden of his responsibilities were weighing heavily on his shoulders. How could he keep everyone safe? How could he prevent Frances from behaving in a fashion that would bring disaster and ruin crashing in on all of them? How could he hope to battle something he could not see, something that seemed to hold all the power in the situation?