Beautiful Whispers (Ausmor Plantation Book 1 - Romance/Suspense)

by Alice Ayden

  My head started the dull ache I knew from experience would ascend into a full alarm migraine. I yanked open the medicine cabinet and found my pill bottle. As I swallowed the pills, the shiny red bathroom strained at the torn edges of my patience. “Why did Karenda demand red?”

  I had to talk with somebody. “I’ve got no proof. I don’t even know if it was real.” I couldn’t let Ausmor slide into more scandal because of me. I had years of unexplained wounds and memory mashes and a mother who slowly went insane.

  I tried to convince myself it was all my imagination. It was the things you told yourself about the noise out the bedroom window in the middle of the night. The mind races through feverish scenarios of what could happen, of stories on the news, of movies and TV programs of similar situations, but then logic calms. Logic remembers the odds and provides plausible explanations about wandering cats and angry wind.

  My mind raced like I’d had three dozen expressos. I did a decent job with the convincing, but deep down in the darkest corners of my soul I knew Johnston. I knew what he’d done.

  “Jane,” Mrs. Kiness knocked on the door. “Are you alright?”

  I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and opened the door. “I’m fine, Mrs. Kiness.”

  I could tell the way her head jerked back and her eyes narrowed she didn’t believe me.

  “Another headache. That’s all.”

  “Just remember to start your day.”

  I ran out of my room and down the stairs. As I catapulted through the side door, I ran into the gardeners.

  “Look out!” one of the gardeners screamed as he lunged out of my way and landed into an open bag of manure.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry.” I reached for him, but he resisted my help. “Sorry,” I said as one gardener eyed the other one. I thought it best to flee the scene. Hit and run manuring. I’d done it before. So, I followed the original snaky brick path known as the Inner Circle as it looped around to the front of the house.

  “Calm down.” I slowed my breathing. “Have to focus on something else.” I couldn’t let my mind panic about Johnston – not until I could sort everything out. Not until I found Evan. I wouldn’t make a scene. Not until I knew for sure.

  I ‘started my day,’ as Mrs. Kiness said by noticing everything around me. My routine. Mrs. Kiness believed it important for the family to notice house and garden details on a daily basis. She disliked beauty being taken for granted, but I didn’t need reminders. I loved Ausmor. Everything about it, and I couldn’t or wouldn’t imagine living anywhere else.

  My breathing returned to normal; my pulse slowed. “I can do this.” I paused and looked down at the brick steps that led to the front door. Karenda demanded shiny bricks, so, after tons of consultations and redos, she finally had the just rained look of wet brick as if someone had spilled a ton of lip gloss. I touched the white pillars that stretched to the brick plantation’s third floor. I stood in the open doorway and studied the Grand Entrance Hall stretching to the back door.

  Inside, the pralines and cream paneled walls protruded with carved cornices and fluted pilasters around gigantic twelve foot tall portraits of the long dead ancestors. The dangly chandeliers and wall sconces lit the space and highlighted the dark chocolate floors, and the twenty foot centerpiece chandelier bravely splashed light into every dark crevice. Few dared look directly at ‘the old gal’ as Uncle V called it for fear their retinas would explode.

  On either side of the hall, four carved archways opened to the old family parlors like outstretched arms. The earliest Austens and Morgans nursed a contentious and sometimes violent relationship: separation proved necessary.

  Back in the day, each family used one parlor as their official, public space to greet guests and the other as their private retreat from each other. As I embraced the beauty around me, I heard two gasps. I slowly turned around to Ausmor’s official unofficial greeters. Twin ninety year old volunteers named Madge and Madeleine. The Mad twins.

  “Miss Austen, you do look divine,” Mad said.

  “Thank you,” I said curtsying. “And how are the Mads today?”

  They giggled and held onto each other. “Oh, we are fine, Miss Austen. And how are you on this fine morning?”

  I shrugged. “I’m not sure if I ate one of my aunt’s chocolate covered mushrooms. The website’s kicking my ass. Had a nightmare about Johnston being in my room which gave me a migraine, and I’m hoping the pills take effect before I gotta hurl. You?”

  They giggled. “Oh, we are fine Miss Austen.”

  The Mad twins were great listeners, couldn’t hear a damn thing, always smiled and never judged. Priests without bite.

  “Excuse me,” a green suited tourist asked the twins. “Is this where I pick up the maps?”

  The twins excused themselves, and I continued to study the house. “I’ll be different. I’ll be better. I’ll—”

  “Hey, Jane.”

  I stopped when I recognized Alexander’s voice.

  “You are going by Jane, aren’t you? That’s what your cousin said.”

  “I am.” I breathed easier. I could tell him. Something about his eyes made it alright. Those gorgeous green eyes I could spill anything to. He’d make it alright. He’d make me safe.

  He hesitated as if he wanted to ask me why I looked at him like I did. “Nice dress. All regency all the time now?”

  “Maybe.”

  Someone stepped on my foot. I looked down at my poor shoe and then up at the intrusion to see Tour Guide Anne and her beady bun and lopsided eyes. “Hey, Anne. How’s it going today?”

  Anne’s glare made the chandelier blow a couple of bulbs. “What’s it to you? Pathetic little...”

  “Excuse me?” Alexander stared at her.

  Anne managed to extend her glare to Alexander. She looked him up and down and did some kind of - I guess it could be called a chortle like a wheezing horse. “You must love the punishment? Frankly...” she glared me up and down. “Don’t know the attraction.”

  “Show some respect. This is Miss Austen. One of your employers.”

  I loved watching Alexander get all bossy and protective.

  “Piss off.” She stomped away.

  I smiled. Tour Guide Anne and I had a special relationship built on pure hatred. I didn’t know why we hated each other, but she hated the sight of me without requiring any extra effort on my part. Freed up my irritation hours for others.

  “What an icy little bitch.” Alexander immediately bowed his head. “Perdóname Madre.”

  I shook my head. “What?”

  “My mom didn’t like me to disrespect.”

  “It’s Tour Guide Anne. Surely your mother wouldn’t have minded?”

  Alexander laughed. “She would have. Always said to treat everyone with respect even if they don’t deserve it.”

  I nodded and noticed him staring at my lip. I tried to turn my head, but he stepped in front of me.

  “Did Byron?”

  “What? Byron would never hurt me.”

  Alexander made a face like he didn’t believe me.

  “He wouldn’t. He’s never.” I put my hand up to my lip to hide it. “Can you tell that much?”

  He touched my wrist. “What the hell?” His eyes sought the ground as his mind turned over the suspect list.

  “Please, don’t do anything. I need to talk to Evan.” That’s what I said. What I thought? Grab the popcorn and watch Alexander hurl Johnston around like a rag and hang him from the chandelier.

  “I’m not going to sit back and let anyone hurt you. You can’t ask me to do that again.”

  I didn’t know what he meant, but the ache in my stomach told me it was the truth. “It’ll be different this time. Byron doesn’t own me.” I didn’t know why I said that, and I didn’t even know what it meant.

  Alexander nodded. “Prove it.”

  13 Jane

  Mrs. Kiness called Alexander away, and I walked through the house searching past lone tourists, rushed tour guides and
busy staff. I needed to find a group – a pile up. Look for a wad and there in the middle would be Evan.

  He tended to act like sticky tape inadvertently picking up everyone attracted to him. He was one of those naturally hot guys who didn’t have to do a damn thing to announce his hotness.

  “My darling Jane Eva,” Grand Maeve said, gliding in from the Rose Parlor. “And how is my favorite niece?”

  I instinctively looked around for my sister. It wasn’t a secret as to who Grand Maeve favored, but at least I thought I should politely look in case something needed to be smoothed over. Grand Maeve stared directly at me. She lacked the need to cover.

  I kissed my great aunt’s cheek. “Hello, Grand Maeve. I’ve decided to just go by Jane.”

  “Oh, how wonderful.” Grand Maeve smiled and clasped her hands together as if I’d said I’d found a million dollars buried in the basement.

  “It is a fine name.” She smiled.

  I nodded. The fact that I was named after Grand Maeve Jane Austen was another reason she loved it. Although a great aunt to me, and the grandmother to Lillia and Evan, Grand Maeve long ago decided against traditional titles and settled for Grand Maeve.“What are your plans today, Grand Maeve?”

  She grinned.

  I guess I should have asked, ‘who are your plans today?’ since my great aunt collected men.

  “Oh…” Grand Maeve blushed. “I am fortunate enough to be quite active today.”

  I winced. “Have you seen Evan?” I leaned past the rope Karenda used to block off the old Morgan dining room and peeked into the renovations. Silence. The workers scattered like crickets on a summer night around my great aunt and her wandering hands.

  “What are we discussing?” Margaret Morgan Stonston - Mags - lunged into the conversation followed by her son, Johnston.

  Grand Maeve sighed very loudly. “The Damn Other Morgans. Where’s the pest control?” She long ago decided - not her blood; not her problem.

  Officially, Grand Maeve and Uncle V produced three children; unofficially, they had a son - the father of Evan and Lillia. According to Grand Maeve, two daughters resulted from Uncle V’s diddling of maids. Since Mags wasn’t her child, Grand Maeve didn’t have to cloak her disgust.

  “Excuse me,” I said slipping away. I couldn’t risk another run in with Johnston.

  I leapt up the Grand Staircase for my escape. On the second floor - the traditional Morgan part of Ausmor - sunlight streamed through the large twelve paned windows at the front of the house and caught a few inches of blanched hardwood peeking around the flowered hunter green and royal blue rug. Bright lights captured every detail in the portraits of Morgans interspersed along the paneled lime walls.

  Careful to avoid an incoming tour, I fled into the library and slid behind a dark brown stained bookshelf. I was shocked to find Evan hiding there as well. We both smiled as we tried to remain silent.

  “This room is the Morgan library,” Tour Guide Taylor said. “I just wish Mr. Evan Morgan was here...” He cleared his throat. “He does have such wonderful assets.”

  I smiled at Evan who blushed and shook his head.

  Taylor paused as tourists stretched to see past him.

  “Huh,” a tourist said, unimpressed. “The Austen library’s bigger.”

  Evan nodded.

  “But this one’s brighter,” another tourist said. “Happier.”

  “I mean I know the Austens are supposed to be better and all…” a tourist began.

  I shifted positions and tried not to look at Evan. We’d heard our entire lives about the feud between Austens and Morgans. It originated from two famous Morgans who did naughty things, but I didn’t want Evan to suffer because of it.

  “But isn’t the Austen part of the house… I don’t know… dark and depressing?”

  This time I nodded. Evan might endure a couple of ancestors with criminal pasts, but the Austen blood bubbled with madness and suicide.

  “And what about the ghosts, man? Didn’t that program do a program here?” one gum smacking, jean ripped guy asked.

  “That’s right,” another said. “They came here and got all scared and stuff and heard voices and shadows and shit. That show is awesome, man. Did you see the one when they went to New Orleans and that one guy almost pissed himself when he saw…”

  I laughed at Evan rolling his eyes as the tour group walked down the hall out of earshot.

  Evan peeked around the door to make sure they’d left. He turned to face me. He could always tell what I was thinking before I thought it. “What’s going on?” Then he looked closer. “Your face?”

  I quickly looked at the ground. “It’s what I need to talk to you about. I can’t be sure. I have no proof.”

  Evan took a deep breath to brace himself. “Tell me.”

  “I was doing the website this morning. You know, doing the blog, and Johnston scared the bejesus outta me.

  Evan cringed. “He was in your room?”

  I nodded. “Don’t know how he got there cause my bedroom door was still closed. Don’t know why he was there, but the way he looked at me…” I shook thinking about his sickening expression which betrayed his grotesque thoughts.

  Evan set his jaw tight. “I’ll take care of it.” He gently touched my arms. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “I mean we can’t make a fuss.” I thought about what his mother, Mags, would do. “It’ll be his word against mine. I don’t want a report or this to get out. There’s no proof. We really don’t know what—”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  I breathed a little easier. I trusted Evan. He never said anything unless he meant it. ‘Always say what you mean and mean what you say,’ he quoted as a child. “Although…” my thoughts raced. “I wouldn’t mind a good dismemberment. Or decapitation. I actually think Johnston would look better headless.”

  Evan nodded. “Indeed.”

  14 Alexander

  Working in the carpentry building, I hadn’t seen Jane in a while. I promised I’d let her tell Evan. Then I’d do something.

  As I sawed the wood for the new banister, I heard a noise behind me. Probably either Johnston or Byron. Didn’t matter which. They were both alike to me. I won’t let him hurt her again. Not again. I couldn’t protect her last time, but I’m not leaving this time.

  I got that weird feeling of being watched. I stopped the machine and looked around. Ausmor wasn’t exactly a quiet place. The staff. The family. Tourists. Evan’s nature preserve. Bitty’s screams. Her helpers’ cries. Mrs. Kiness’ orders.

  I shrugged it off. Then another noise. Before I could turn around, the sharpest pain…

  “What on earth?” were the first words I heard when I woke up face down in the sawdust.

  Mrs. Kiness rushed to my side and helped me up. “What happened? Did you trip? Was it an accident?”

  The pounding in the back of my head told me it wasn’t an accident as my hand pulled away revealing blood.

  “Oh the saints!” Mrs. Kiness jolted into rescue mode. “We need a doctor and a hospital and an ambulance.”

  I grabbed her hand before she rushed off. “I’m fine. I’m okay.”

  “But…”

  “It was an accident.” If he was willing to do this to me, what would he do to Jane?

  Mrs. Kiness led me inside and to my room. Refusing to go to the hospital, I lied in bed propped up with pillows. My head ached like a son-of-a-bitch, but I’d been hurt worse in the bar fights I used to get into.

  My room at Ausmor was small and at the back of the house. Yellow. Too yellow. I think it was Mrs. Hodges old room. Mrs. Kiness left quickly and brought back flowers. I didn’t know why. What about me screamed flowers? But I smiled, and it made her feel better. Mrs. Kiness fussed and sighed and fumed and worried. She’d been like a mother to my own mother, and, with no other family, she was the closest I had to blood.

  I didn’t refuse the doctor she brought, and he said I didn’t need stitches and would be fine. But through a
ll the good news, Mrs. Kiness only heard one thing: concussion. Enough to put her on high alert.

  “You rest but not too much sleep. We cannot have you waking up dead,” Mrs. Kiness said.

  I nodded or grunted, and she understood. Then someone knocked on the door.

  Mrs. Kiness opened the door to Jane. From the look on her face, I don’t know if she knew I was hurt or had just come back to see me. Either way, I was happy to see her.

  Her eyes immediately flashed confusion then worry. “What happened?”

  “An accident,” I said.

  Mrs. Kiness nodded slightly, but her downcast eyes told Jane something else. “He’ll be fine, child. How did you hear about it?”

  Another knock on the door saved Jane from explaining. Mrs. Kiness opened it to see Sally, one of her protégés.

  “A disaster, Mrs. Kiness. I don’t know what to do.” Sally tried to catch her breath. “You have to come quick. But I swear it wasn’t my fault. And I swear I tried to stop them. But I swear I couldn’t. And I shouldn’t have said those things. But I swear I—”

  Mrs. Kiness grabbed Sally. “Find a breath, sweet child. Breathe. There is no need for such a fuss. It will all be fine.”

  Sally smiled and wiped a few tears away, but her panic couldn’t be sequestered. “But you will come with me, won’t you Mrs. Kiness? I can’t deal with it all by myself. I swear I can’t—”

  “Child,” Mrs. Kiness said more forcefully. “You must learn to relax. Ausmor is a large house, and there is always bound to be something amiss.” Mrs. Kiness hesitantly looked at me and then Jane. “You will stay here until I return?”

  Jane nodded. “If I must.”

  15 Jane

  I waited until Mrs. Kiness left. She moved like molasses. Then I looked at Alexander. “Okay, what the hell?”

  He took a deep breath. “I don’t know. I was at the carpentry building. Heard something behind me. Next thing I know I wake up covered in saw dust with a bloody head.”

  “And there was no one else there when you woke up?”