Cole’s savage bark made her jump and skitter from the room, and no amount of her fumbling, embarrassed excuses about how sick she was or getting lost in the house appeared to cool his ire. Olie was ordered to bring around the carriage the first thing in the morning. Declining breakfast and avoiding meeting Cole’s frown, Rebel mounted into the conveyance and left.
The sun rose in a clear sky on the second Tuesday in September, but long, high streamers of clouds stretched across the sky before the day had fully crept from its cradle. Alaina had not yet joined Cole at the cottage as was her habit, for the baby was still sleeping and had not yet roused for her morning feeding.
Alaina bathed and dressed in preparation for the short journey down the hill. They would be taking up residence in the cottage on a more permanent basis before the end of the week, and by the beginning of the next, carpenters would be admitted into the hill house to begin their work.
Sensing a presence at the bathing room door, Alaina turned, brushing her hair, then halted in surprise as she saw Mrs. Garth standing in the doorway, holding Glynis in her arms. It was the first time the housekeeper had deigned to touch the baby, but for some strange reason, Alaina found the sight less than soothing.
“I have something to show you, madam,” the woman stated in flat, dry tones. “Would you come with me?”
Abruptly Mrs. Garth turned, went again through the bathing chamber, and crossed to the hall door of the nursery. A sense of wariness leadened Alaina’s feet, and she was slow to react.
“Well, come along,” Mrs. Garth commanded as she paused in the portal and glanced back. Her voice was almost curt. “We don’t have all day.”
“Let me take Glynis,” Alaina urged. “I’ll follow you in a moment after I’ve seen to her diapering.”
“It can’t wait. Come along.”
Alaina realized she had no choice as the housekeeper carried the baby into the hall. Much to Alaina’s amazement, they entered Roberta’s room, and Mrs. Garth went without hesitation to the mirror set in the alcove. The woman raised a hand to press the upper corner of the silvered panels, and Alaina’s jaw slackened in surprise as the mirror shifted beneath the pressure of her hand. It opened to reveal a dark passageway into which Mrs. Garth entered. She turned in an invitation for Alaina to follow, and hesitantly the younger woman did so. Alaina paused at the opening. The mirrored panel had opened onto a dark, square shaft where a flight of stairs hugged the wall and wound endlessly downward. There seemed only a black, bottomless pit beneath the stairs, ending in shadows through which her gaze could not penetrate. Glancing upward, Alaina saw that the stairs extended to the attic level, and above that, a ladder reached to a small door which could only have led to the widow’s walk. A tiny window high in the peals gave a weary light to the shaft.
Mrs. Garth had descended a flight and stood with her free hand on a butt of timber that jutted from the wall.
“Are you coming, Mrs. Latimer?” The woman’s impatient question sounded hollow in the tower.
“Shouldn’t we call Cole or some of the men?” Alaina asked in sudden, worried distress. She bit a trembling lip as she glanced at her sleeping daughter, desperately wanting her back safe in her arms.
“There is much for you to see below, and we don’t have time to waste. Come along!”
This last was a command if Alaina had ever heard one. Meekly she followed, for the narrow stair was no place to engage in a struggle for her child. As soon as she cleared the portal, Mrs. Garth turned the timber butt, and with a rattle of chains and pulleys, the panel swung shut behind them. Alaina blinked at the sudden darkness. There was a scratch of a match, then a lantern’s wick flared into a brighter light. Holding the lantern high with one hand and cradling the child in the other arm, Mrs. Garth hurried down the winding stairs, leaving Alaina no choice but to follow. A steady draft blew upward past them and seemed to carry minute sounds, muted and distant. They went ever downward until the wooden walls of the shaft turned to stone. Shortly, they became rough and uneven, as if the tunnel were a natural flue in the cliff. The draft carried a damp smell, and the sounds became louder. Alaina glanced up and saw that the small window was only a dot of light far above them. She could only guess that they were well beneath the basement of the house and probably close to the water level.
The walls were wet further down, and from the dark shadows, occasional high-pitched, clicking squeals sounded. Then Alaina realized with a sense of forboding that there were bats clinging in the sheltered crevices of the rock wall.
When they came to the floor of the shaft, a thick wooden door blocked further passage. Mrs. Garth leaned on an upright lever, moving it to one side until, with a clank of chains, the door began to move. When it was open enough for her to squeeze past, she slipped through and waited for Alaina to do likewise. Once on the other side, Mrs. Garth pushed another lever, but frowned sharply as the door left a crack the width of a man’s hand.
“Blasted thing! Never did work right!” the housekeeper fussed. Leaving it, she took up the lantern again and hurried on her way. The floor sloped sharply downward, and a new source of light shone from ahead.
Alaina’s feet lagged as she glanced about her. Along the walls of the cave dimly lit with lanterns all sorts of merchandise and boxes of goods and wooden barrels were stacked several layers deep. Behind grated doors of a small side chamber sat small kegs of gunpowder and several tiers deep of long boxes with the stenciled shape of a rifle stamped on the side.
“Rifles? Machinery?” Alaina murmured in awe and suddenly remembered Cole telling her about a stern-wheeler being lost on the river. It had carried such cargo. Could it be that they had river pirates right in their own basement?
“This way, if you please, Mrs. Latimer.” The housekeeper’s voice had become almost insulting in its arrogance. “Just a little ways farther.”
Mrs. Garth led the way into a small cave that appeared to have been scraped from the soft sandstone to form a rough room. Going directly in, the woman laid the baby on a narrow cot that sat close against the wall. Alaina gave no pause but ran to her daughter, lifting the small form against her shoulder. Then a loud clang behind her made her spin about, and she saw Mrs. Garth fastening a large lock on an ornate gate that transformed the narrow room into a prison cell.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Alaina cried indignantly. “Let me out of here!”
Mrs. Garth leered at her prisoner as she slowly unbuttoned the neck of her prim black gown until she revealed the upward swell of full breasts crushed into flatness. She reached up and loosened the pins from the sober bun of hair, shaking it free and letting it fall around her shoulders. The visage was no longer the dull emotionless face of Mrs. Garth, but had taken on new life. Only the life it displayed was bitter, hot red, barely repressed contempt.
“I’ve done enough bowing and scraping,” she sneered. “I’m taking back what was mine from the beginning, Madam Latimer.”
Mindy’s small hand pressed anxiously at the mirrored glass. She could see herself but not those who had passed beyond its barrier, and that’s what fretted her. She had been dressing herself in her bedroom when she heard Mrs. Garth’s brusque commands and Alaina’s worried reply. Her curiosity had been piqued, and she had followed the sound of their voices that had led her from her room into the dreaded red chamber that had been Roberta’s, but only in time to see Mrs. Garth disappear with the baby through the strange opening in the wall. Her sudden anxiety had become dismayed terror as the adored Alaina entered into the dark, frightening maw, and before Mindy could reach the passage, the mirrored jaws had closed behind Alaina. In frenzied fear, Mindy pushed and clawed at the reflecting glass, but it would not open to her. Helplessly she dragged a chair close to the doorway leading into the hall and sat down to wait and watch, ever ready to skitter into hiding if the mirrored door opened again. Agonizingly she counted the slow chiming of the tall clock that echoed through the house from the downstairs vestibule, and each hour it struck she be
came more anxious. The long striking of twelve was the time she and the Latimers usually returned from the cottage for the noon meal, and she knew that Cole would be coming shortly. He would know what to do. He would see that Alaina and Glynis were safe.
It had been a long wait for a small girl, but on dashing to the window after the hour struck, she saw the nice-faced Cole riding toward the house. Her tiny, slippered feet carried her swiftly down the stairs, and she was on the porch, breathless and chafing with impatience, when the doctor passed Peter who was still waiting on the front stoop to take the mistress to the cottage. Only, Alaina had never come down.
Peter shrugged to the doctor’s inquiry. He had been told to come around nine to fetch the mistress, but as anybody could see, he was still there.
Occupied with his thoughts, Cole hurried into the house, never noticing Mindy tugging at his vest. It was unlike Alaina to keep Peter waiting the whole morning, and he was suddenly concerned that she might be ill. He took the stairs two at a time, but found the nursery and their bedchamber empty.
“Alaina?” He walked the hall, pausing at the doors to check the other rooms. “Alaina, where are you?”
His polished boots were a blur on the stairs as he rapidly descended them, brushing past Mindy as she came up. He pushed open the swinging doors of the kitchen and questioned Annie, but the cook only shrugged.
“Not since breakfast, sir.”
Mindy halted in her descent as Cole came charging past her up the stairs again, and she stood in trembling frustration, her small hands clenched. She turned angrily and followed the not-so-nice Cole upstairs again. She met him as he came out of the nursery, having once more made a complete circuit of the master bedroom and bath.
“Mindy!” He knelt to her level. “Have you seen Alaina?”
The girl smiled and vigorously nodded. She caught his hand and led him directly into Roberta’s room, straight across it to the mirror. She pushed at the middle of the glass and glanced back to see if he understood.
Cole nodded in distraction. “Yes, Mindy. It’s a nice mirror, but I’ve got to find Alaina and Glynis now.”
Mindy pointed frantically at her reflection, but dumb-faced Cole had already turned away and was leaving her. Quick tears of distress and disappointment filled her eyes, and she clenched her thin hands into fists again. She remembered adored Alaina explaining about heroes and wise men. Adored Alaina had said that anybody could do things that were easy, but heroes and wise men did things that were so difficult, nobody else would try them.
Well! Mindy wasn’t a wise man, but she might have to be a hero if nice-faced Cole didn’t listen to her! Listen to her! Listen! Listen, Cole! Please!
The tears spilled down her cheeks, and her single sob was only a voiceless gasp. She wiped at her cheek angrily and went again to find him. He was questioning Peter.
“No, sir!” Peter shook his head. “Like I told you, she said she wanted the wagon brought up this morning about nine. I’ve been here since then, and here I still am.”
“She didn’t come out or anything?” Cole’s scowl took on the deeper creases of his growing worry. What if she had gone out the back, walked along the steep cliff? Fallen? Or maybe she was in the woods with a sprained ankle, or a broken leg, and unable to carry the child. Maybe even unconscious! The vision of her and the baby lying helpless somewhere set his mind on fire. He brushed away Mindy’s plucking hand and went to seek out Miles.
“No, sir. The last I saw of her was when she went upstairs after breakfast. She did not come down.”
Cole knew Miles’s alert ear for the comings and goings about the house and could question the man no further. He brushed away Mindy’s hands, but they came back to seize the back of his vest firmly.
“Not now, Mindy!” He pried her fingers loose and didn’t notice the frenzied working of her lips as she silently begged him to come. “I’ve got to find Alaina! Don’t you understand? Alaina and the baby have disappeared!”
He pushed the clutching girl away and strode into the dining room, his mind ranging over all sorts of horrors.
“Peter!” he bellowed suddenly.
The lad appeared at the door before the echoes died.
“Take the wagon and go fetch Olie and Saul, and keep a good eye out for any sign of Mrs. Latimer along the way. Bring the men back as soon as you can, but check the cottage on the way down to see if she’s there.”
Peter ran out the door, and the wagon rumbled away as the boy urged the horses into their fastest gait.
Cole paced the floor, his mind recklessly crossing bridges before they were built. He stood at the window overlooking the river and searched for any glimpse of movement along the brow of the cliff.
Annie stood in the hall with Miles, her meal forgotten, a spoon still in her hand, while the butler nervously fumbled with his cravat until it was hopelessly awry.
“There’s trouble brewin’ in this house!” Annie brandished, her spoon like a weapon. “The hackles on me neck is fair crawlin’ with it.”
Miles could only fidget in anxious vexation. The thought of the house or cottage without the vivacious presence of the mistress and the beautiful Latimers’ baby numbed his mind.
A repeated thumping sound drew Cole’s attention from the window. He turned to see Mindy beating her small fists on the table. When she saw that she had caught his eye, she stopped and suddenly made a rocking motion with her arms, then jabbed a finger behind her toward the stairs. She pointed upward and made a pushing motion with her hands.
Cole shook his head and tried to be patient. He spoke as softly as he could manage. “Mindy, I don’t want to play with you now. I don’t want to see the mirror again. Alaina and the baby are gone, and I don’t know where. Please understand.”
The girl nodded quickly, then pointed to herself, and repeated all the motions she had made before. Cole turned back to the windows to hide his irritation.
“Leave me be, Mindy.”
The thumping began again and didn’t cease until he whirled, his eyes clouded with anger. Then he saw the tears streaming unchecked down the small girl’s face, and his ire dwindled. He could not speak the harsh retort that was on his lips.
Mindy stood, this time with her hands braced wide on the table as her thoughts went back. She remembered being tucked into a clump of brush and warned not to speak or cry out no matter what. She remembered the slow crumpling of her father and the rolling thunder of the smooth-bore trade muskets. She remembered the screams of her mother as the painted faces dragged her from the burning house. She remembered the dull thud of the shovel and the collapse of her uncle as he fell into the hole. Her mind stopped. Now, it was adored Alaina and the baby Glynis whose eyes said such nice things when Mindy leaned over the cradle. The time for silence was long past.
Mindy’s mouth opened, and her lips twisted and her chest jerked with her effort, but all that came out were wheezing gasps. The gasps became sobs, and Mindy’s hand slowly beat on the table with her frustration. The sobs grew louder until they racked the thin frame, and Cole, watching, knew not how to bring her peace. He came around the table and took the child into his arms. The strangled words first sounded as a whisper in his ear.
“Papa! Papa! Mama! Mama!” Suddenly Mindy pulled back. She grasped handfuls of hair on either side of his head as she looked into his eyes. Her lips worked, and the sounds struggled agonizingly forth.
“Na! Na! Ainya! Ainya!”
“Alaina?”
The small head nodded vigorously. “Nis! Nis! Inis!”
“Glynis?”
“Co! Cole!” She clenched her eyes tightly as she fought to clear her words. “Col! Come!” Tears streamed down her cheeks as she looked at him pleadingly. “Col! Come! Quick! Quick!”
She released his hair and grabbed his hand, jerking at it anxiously. “Col! Come quick!”
The dawning had come slowly, but it finally penetrated. She knew where Alaina was and was trying to tell him. Cole rose to his feet and let her lead
him straight up the stairs and back to Roberta’s room. Mindy returned to the mirror and spread her hands wide apart on it. She turned to look at Cole over her shoulder.
“Dor! Dor!”
“Dor?” Cole repeated slowly. “Door!”
Mindy leaned a shoulder against the mirror. “Door! Door! Open!”
“The mirror is a door, and Alaina has gone through it?”
Mindy nodded her head eagerly. “Inis! Inis!” She jabbed at the mirror.
Cole glanced around the edges of the mirror.
“Ar—Ar—Arth! Miz Arth!” Mindy slowly mouthed the strange sounds.
“Mrs. Garth?”Cole suddenly remembered that he had not seen the woman in his frantic tour around the house. He stepped close to the mirror and examined it from top to bottom. It had a lightly marbled silvering that marred the reflection, but there was no sign of hinges or knobs. He brushed aside the drapes that framed the mirror, then he noticed a small smudge of a handprint near the upper right corner. Placing his hand over the spot, he pushed, and the mirror moved an inch, no more. He pushed harder, and the silvered glass swung wide.
“Mindy!” Cole faced her. “Olie and Saul will be coming! Bring them up here and show them the doorway.”
Mindy ran toward the door, then halted and faced him again. “Co?”
He was dragging a chair to block open the mirror, but paused.
“Minny lo’ Ainya an’ Inis.” The words came slow and carefully.
Cole smiled gently. “I love them, too, Mindy. And Mindy? I love you, too. Thank you.”
Ashes in the Wind Page 70
