was too late . . . for so many things.
When the water was growing cold, Darcy scrubbed
the asylum’s filth away and washed her hair until it
squeaked. Wrapping a towel around her head and another
around herself, she went into her bedroom. She sat at the
dressing table and stared at the woman in the mirror. Even
after her bath, she could see scars of her incredible
experience in her eyes and etched along her face that was
thinner than when she had last sat here. She began to brush
her hair, letting the slow strokes take all her concentration
so she did not have to think of anything else.
When her hair was smooth and dry against her back,
she rose to dress. She was not startled to see a clean
nightgown and wrapper on the bed. Glad to have something
other than that horrible gray gown, she pulled the
nightgown over her head before buttoning the wrapper.
She saw something else on the bed. Her notebook.
With a sad smile, she wondered why she had believed she
could write a story of true love. She might love Simon
with all her heart, but she no longer could guess if he loved
her.
Opening the book, she turned to the final page with
writing. She frowned as she scanned it. She could not recall
putting this section of the story on paper, but the
handwriting was hers. Was she truly mad? Or had what
she had suffered caused her to forget? Or . . . She had no
idea what another alternative might be.
She began to read,
~~~ Meskhenet heard Usi’s heavy steps following her,
and she wondered how he could be so bold as to approach
the Pharaoh’s private chambers without an invitation. Even
Meskhenet should wait upon her brother’s pleasure for
her company before she came here. But she had to talk to
him. He would tell her the truth about what had happened
to Ahwere.
She heard a strange silence ahead of her. There should
be many voices from within her brother’s chambers, sounds
of music and gaiety. His advisors, the priests, his servants,
his concubines. All of them should be busy with the
Pharaoh’s work and making certain his life was as
wondrous as the son of a god deserved. Something was
wrong. Something was wrong. Something was terribly
wrong. She began to run along the hallway, calling her
brother’s name.
No answer came, and she understood why when she
stopped in the doorway to the Pharaoh’s antechamber.
Bodies were strewn across the floor, each one contorted
in the agony that had accompanied their final breath.
“Onuris!” she cried, hoping her brother would, by
some miracle, answer. She wove between the corpses to
go into her brother’s most private chambers. With a moan,
she leaned against the wall when she saw him lying in his
bed next to his favorite concubine. Neither moved as they
stared lifelessly at the ceiling.
She longed to sink to the floor and sob. She could not.
She must find the one who had dared to come into the
palace and do this abominable thing. She needed to see
that person pay the price of this heinous deed. Rushing
back into the antechamber, she shouted for the palace
guards to come to her. They must find the murderer so
Pharaoh’s laws could bring justice. She ignored the
anguished thought that no earthly justice could return the
breath of life into her brother. His justice would now come
on the scales of Thoth.
“No need to call the Pharaoh’s guards,” Usi said as he
came into the room. A smile eased onto his lips. “I have
sent them to find the murderer.”
“You?” Her grief gave her the freedom to show her
hatred for him. “You may give commands in the Valley of
Thoth, but not in the Pharaoh’s palace.”
“Onuris is dead.” He walked past her and ran his
fingers along the cotton panels decorating the walls.
“Poisoned with so many of his trusted servants. But it is
the way of Egypt to continue, and there must be a Pharaoh.”
He faced her. “That is why I give orders within the
Pharaoh’s palace.”
Meskhenet stared at his triumphant smile. She had
known him capable of so much in his grab for power, but
she had not guessed he would dare this. Her voice shook—
with both sorrow and fury—as she said, “You will never
be Pharaoh.”
“I already am Pharaoh.”
“By what right do you claim the throne?”
“By marriage to the Pharaoh’s closest living relative.”
Meskhenet choked back her next question. Her brother
had written his own death sentence when he signed the
agreement for her to marry Usi. His own death and so
many others.
“I can claim the throne for myself!” She raised her
head. “I am of Ra’s blood. You are not.”
“Do you believe the priests will accept you as their
Pharaoh when they have already pledged their loyalty to
me?” He walked toward her. “Our children will be
Pharaohs after us.”
“I will give you no children!”
His lips twisted. “Then you shall die, too. A barren
wife is worthless to a Pharaoh.” He seized her and forced
her into his arms. “But you will give me children,
Meskhenet. Many children and much pleasure.”
She could not escape his cruel mouth. Her fear that he
would rape her right there among the corpses was eased
when voices sounded in the corridor, coming swiftly
toward the antechamber.
He released her and went to the door to receive those
who had forgotten their vows to her brother. Inching toward
another door, she paused when Usi called her name.
Reluctantly, at his command, she walked toward where he
held out his hand to her. She would obey him until she
could find a way to make him for pay for his treachery.
“You asked who might have done this?” Usi asked,
his eyes flicking from her to the guards who were listening
avidly. “Maybe you can help us answer that question.”
He thrust something toward her. A sandal. A sandal
with the emblem of Thoth atop it.
“No,” she whispered. “No, you cannot do this.”
“So you recognize this sandal?”
“I am not sure.” She fought to regain her composure.
“Many wear such sandals with the gods’ images.”
“In the Valley of Thoth?” His victorious smile
broadened. “I think it is time we searched to find who has
the matching sandal. Then we shall have our murderer.”
He looped a hand around Meskhenet’s nape and kissed
her roughly. “Forgive me, dear wife. I will return to our
marriage bed to begin the dynasty that shall follow us.”
Meskhenet did not answer. She wanted him to leave.
Then she would find a way to warn Kafele. She was not
certain how, but she must break the promise she had made
him never to return to the far shore. If she did not, then he
would die
for Usi’s crimes. ~~~
“Oh, my,” murmured Darcy. When had this story taken
such a dark turn? She could not remember Jaddeh telling
her such a tale. If her grandmother had, Darcy doubted if
she would have been able to sleep.
She dropped the book back onto her bed. It was her
handwriting, but she could not remember writing it.
Everything that happened in it was as new to her as if she
were reading it for the first time. Putting her hand to her
head, she wondered if she had been lying to herself in the
asylum. Maybe she was insane.
No! She was sane. There must be an answer to this, if
only she could find it.
Darcy heard steps in the outer room. Only one person
came unannounced into her rooms, although Simon had
violated that trust when he had banished her to the asylum.
She lowered the light on the gas lamp and sat again at the
dressing table, where the shadows would conceal her face,
for once glad for the dark clinging to the corners. She
squared her shoulders as she watched in the mirror as he
walked toward her.
“Father told me you were home,” Simon said, but did
not touch her. He sat in the chair within the bay, his face
now half-hidden as well. “I hope you feel rested.”
“Not really.” She picked up her comb and began
running it through her hair, untangling the knots the brush
had missed.
“Odd.”
At his terse answer, she paused. She did not turn, for
she doubted if she could maintain her feigned serenity if
she looked at him. “Why?”
“When I lamented the fact you weren’t here when I
couldn’t find the typed manuscript, Father reminded me it
had been better for you to go.”
“Could not find it?”
“It vanished. I fear there is no chance of getting the
typed version to Caldwell on time.”
“Is that all you worried about?”
“Of course not. I’ve been concerned about Father. He
has been fretting about you in the wake of your distress
over what you persuaded yourself you saw in the woods.”
“I didn’t need to persuade myself about anything. What
I saw was real.”
He frowned, and his voice became cold. “You’re testy
tonight. I thought you’d at least have the decency to come
to the office when you arrived back here. I thought you’d
want to know if the manuscript was on its way to London.”
“You obviously were mistaken.” As I was to believe
you care for me as much as you do your book.
“Maybe I should leave.”
“Maybe you should.”
She closed her eyes as he walked to her dressing table.
Please, she begged silently. Please just go away so I can
believe you really loved me . . . before you condemned
me to that place.
When his hands settled on her silk wrapper, tears filled
her eyes, but she blinked them away. She stood and flicked
his fingers off her shoulders. She did not look at him as
she walked out into the sitting room, where a single light
was turned down low, and toward the door.
He followed. “What’s wrong with you, Darcy?”
“I thought it was quite obvious.” She whirled to face
him. “At least, it should be obvious to you. After all, you
were very willing to give Dr. Berger a list of what was
wrong with me. Have I changed so much since you last
saw me?”
His scowl drew lines in his face as he walked closer.
“What’s wrong with you? You are acting crazy.”
“What do you mean?” she whispered, suddenly afraid.
Her breath caught in her throat. He could not be thinking
of sending her back there . . . could he?
“What do you mean?”
She put a chair between them, not wanting to let his
seductive touch snare her in his web again. “If you’d
wanted to dismiss me, Simon, you needn’t have gone to
such lengths to do so. I’m leaving in the morning, so you
needn’t worry about me intruding on your safe little
sanctuary here ever again.”
His eyes widened. “What in perdition are you talking
about? Can’t you make sense just once tonight?”
“Wasn’t that what this was about? That I have no
sense? I can’t think of a better way to prove that than by
condemning me as insane.”
Simon caught her hand before she could open the door.
Spinning her into his arms, he asked, “What are you talking
about? I’m the one who’s been insane. Do you know how
long these nights have been without you? I posted my
handwritten manuscript, but it gave me no pleasure. I’ve
tried to be patient while you went to call on Lady Kincaid
and mend—”
“Call on my grandmother? Why would you think that
was where I was when you knew where I was?”
“I was told you were at Kincaid Fells, and I was
astonished when your grandmother arrived here today
without you.”
“Grandmother is here?” She stiffened.
“Haven’t you seen her?”
“No.”
“I can send for her.”
“No!” She could not see her grandmother when she
was in such an unsettled state.
“Darcy, you should let her know you are here.”
“I don’t want to see her! Why are you persisting with
this?”
His eyes widened. “I am suggesting it only because it
might heal the wounds between you.”
“No!” She struggled to calm her voice as she asked,
“Does she know what’s happened?”
His fingers tightened on her arms. “What has
happened? I can see from your expression, you weren’t at
Kincaid Fells. Where have you been?”
“You don’t know?”
“I wouldn’t ask if I did.”
Darcy tried to answer, but the words clogged her throat.
Dr. Berger had said—and she could not have been
mistaken, because he said it more than once—Simon had
sent her there. If he hadn’t, then . . . She sank to the chair
and stared up at him.
“Darcy, say something,” he said, kneeling beside her.
“Even if you must say you really are leaving, at least say
that. I’ll hate hearing the words, but I need to know where
you’ve been. Something appalling has happened to you. I
see that in your eyes. Where have you been?”
She closed her eyes and slowly opened them. She did
not want to think she was foolish to believe his honest
entreaty, but she was. Quietly, she said, “You’re right.
Something appalling has happened to me. Someone made
a mistake, an appalling mistake. I’ve been at the asylum
on the other side of Halyeyn.” She shuddered and grasped
the chair’s arms, fearing the very words would throw her
back into the living nightmare.
“No!” He shook his head, his eyes wide. “That’s
impossible.”
“Is it?” She lifted her wrapper to reveal the cuts and
bruises on her right ankle. “I was shackled to th
e wall in a
place I wouldn’t believe could exist beyond the
underworld.”
He stood, now the one who was speechless.
“Answer one thing for me now, Simon. Please.”
“Anything.”
“Did you send me there?”
“Me?” His face lost all color. “You think I would send
you to such a place?”
“I was told you did.”
“And you believed that?” Cupping her face, he tipped
it up toward him. “Darcy, I vow to you on my eternal soul
I never would do such a thing. You must believe me. You
were lied to. Just as I was, it seems, when I was told you’d
left a note explaining you were going to visit your
grandmother to heal the rift between you.”
“A note? I left you no note. I was abducted, and, when
I awoke, I was at the asylum. If Reverend Fairfield hadn’t
discovered where I was and sent your father there to
retrieve me, I’d still be there.” She laughed without humor.
“Of course, Hastings believes I was there rightfully,
because he insists I take the medicine Dr. Berger gave him
for me. I would sooner eat arsenic.”
His voice hardened, and his eyes glistened with a fury
more powerful than any she had ever seen there. “I’m going
to find whoever did this to you.”
Knowing she might regret the words, but needing to
speak the truth, she said, “I think it was the monster in the
wood.”
“Don’t start on that—”
She stood. “You don’t believe me, do you? You think
I’m as mad as they say I am.”
“I don’t think you’re insane, but I don’t know what
that thing you think you saw has to do with this.”
“Because the night before I woke up in the asylum, I
was captured by those fanatics again.”
He kept her from turning away. “What? You told me
you wouldn’t go back into the wood alone.”
“I didn’t. I went to stop your father from going into
the wood. I saw him following after their lights. I tried to
save him, but I was the one who needed rescuing.”
“Why didn’t you ask me to go?”
“I looked for you. I called for you. You didn’t answer.
Where were you?”
He frowned. “I was in the house all evening.”
“But I called to you! You didn’t answer.”
“I had a celebratory drink with Father and Andrew.”
His forehead rutted in deep thought. “We decided to have
Ferguson, J. A. - Call Back Yesterday.txt Page 28
