“Good God!” Henry shot, gasping for breath, staring at her as if he saw a dead woman standing before him. “It’s true.”
Tatiana looked at her brother. He signed a cross over his chest, moving away from her like she carried a pack of demons on her shoulders. He stumbled into her wardrobe, bumping into it with a loud bang.
“What?” Tatiana tried to lift her arms to him, but they stayed heavy at her sides.
“Your eyes, Tatiana, they’ve changed,” he expressed, horrified. “Grandmother was right.”
“What are you talking about, Henry?” Her words sounded garbled in her brain. It was like water washed over her ears. She felt lightheaded, dizzy, distant.
“You’re a witch,” Henry said with a shudder.
Tatiana watched in a daze as he ran from the room, tripping over his legs to get away from her. Turning, she met her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes glowed with an eerie green light. She shivered, fainting dead away.
Chapter Seven
A year passed with no word from the count. After the first few months, Eastwich Manor faded into the mundane existence it had before Miss Sinclair’s disappearance. Alice did not come back, and soon even the servants grew bored with speculating about what happened to her. The only thing that did not return to normal was the Sinclair family.
William did not speak to Tatiana of her marriage to the count again. He busied himself with work, barely making time for his children. He drank too much and ate too little until his once broad frame showed rapid signs of aging.
Henry was withdrawn, leaving Eastwich for considerable periods of time. When he came home, usually for only a day or two before being driven away by his demons, he would take his sister for walks through the garden, never going back to the forest or the cottage. He’d watch her carefully, never saying a word of importance to her, usually saying nothing at all. He would never touch her, never offer his arm, and she didn’t move to claim it. Mostly, he studied her eyes, searching them. They didn’t glow again, but he was sure their color was changed to a lighter green than before. Now, the round, sad orbs looked almost like cut jade.
Tatiana was no longer the carefree girl she’d been before the night Alice disappeared. The servants tiptoed around her, treating her as an invalid. She couldn’t recall what happened and finally gave up trying to remember. Bits of memories surfaced about the count though they were vague and few. Finally, she decided that most of what she remembered was her fanciful imagination.
Tatiana did not leave the house, except a few times to visit friends. The news of her engagement spread fast throughout the countryside, and she was regarded with looks of jealousy and awe. No one, not even the gossiping Lady Cottley, had any information on the count beyond that which she’d already given.
Once, Tatiana rode out to the old Glastonbury Castle. It was abandoned. She didn’t have the strength to explore its rooms too deeply. The house was locked up tight, so she spent the afternoon poking around the outside gardens.
None of it seemed real. She felt as if she walked in a dream and had yet to wake from it. The strange lethargy carried her from day to day, keeping her numb to pain and heavy contemplation. At times, she could convince herself that she wasn’t engaged to be married. All she’d have to do is see her father’s disturbed face, and she’d know she definitely was.
Many nights, Tatiana was haunted by more or less the same dream. She was warm, her body naked, enfolded in red silk. She couldn’t see anything beneath the blackness of her eyelids, but somehow she knew the silk was red. A fire burned hotly on her side, warming her back. It crackled and was the only noise around her. She felt safe, protected.
The dream world felt more real to her than the day hours, which she spent roaming the manor. When she slept, she was sure she was awake. When she was awake, she knew she was awake, but she felt asleep.
In the dream, he would come to her. She’d feel the bed shift with his weight. The warmth of the fire would die, leaving her chilled, so very cold. All thoughts of safety fled. There was a dangerous thrill, an odd pleasure, in the man’s presence. Sometimes, he would just sit, studying her. Other times, more rare, he would touch her, and she felt nails scratching lightly over her naked back, pulling down the silk coverlet. She looked forward to those nights with an odd sense of longing and fear. When he touched her, she felt as if her body soared.
“Bella mia,” he would whisper softly to her, right before she woke up.
Chapter Eight
Eastwich Manor, England, Spring 1898
Tatiana yawned behind her gloved hand as she gazed lazily around the expansive lawn and gardens of her home. The spring air was warmer than it had been for days though it did carry a slight chill when the breeze stirred. Her morning dress was pulled close to her throat. The light blue material was plain and trimmed with just the barest amounts of silk. The sleeves puffed at the shoulders, as was the fashion, tapering tighter as they worked down her slender arms. Her hair was pulled up high on her head, pinned compact and neat against her scalp.
“I thought I might find you here, Miss Sinclair.”
Tatiana let a light smile line her tired face. Blocking the afternoon sun with her hand, she looked up from her chair to see Thomas. He was dressed simply, out of his livery. His suit was of dark brown, and he appeared less comfortable in it than in his uniform, especially when standing before her.
“Good afternoon, Thomas,” she responded. “Do join me if you have a moment.”
Henry’s visits to Eastwich Manor became more and more infrequent over the last year. News arrived that he was to be married to a dutifully proper woman from an excellent family. Since Henry’s absence and her father’s withdrawal, she’d found herself inclined to sit with Thomas. There was a melancholy to him that she was oddly drawn to. It was as if he too lived in a dream world, though a nightmare much different than hers.
Thomas nodded, walking around the small table set up on the lawn. Tatiana waited quietly as he took his seat. The man appeared stiff, but she pretended not to notice.
“Are you thinking of Alice?” Tatiana’s eyes did not stray to his. Her body didn’t move. There had been no word from the woman. At first, Thomas had tried to press her for information about the night Alice disappeared. Finally, he came to realize that Tatiana remembered nothing beyond him helping her out of the carriage.
“Yes.” Thomas found no reason to lie to her. It wasn’t the first time they had spoken thus. “It has been almost two years with no word. I know she wouldn’t do this to us. I think she is dead.”
“Don’t lose hope, Thomas.” She too thought Alice must be dead, but she didn’t have the heart to tell him. It wasn’t like the sweet girl to disappear. Perhaps, giving him hope was crueler, but she couldn’t make herself form any other words. “You must try to picture her happy.”
“I picture her, but it is never happy.” The bitterness in his words was understandable. His short blond hair tossed about his head as the chilly breeze picked up around them.
Tatiana glanced at him, not turning her face lest any watch them from the windows. Thomas always kept a respectable distance. Sometimes he would read to her from books from her father’s library. He had a nice, pleasant voice that would soothe her. He didn’t seem to mind it, actually maybe even enjoyed it. Occasionally, she’d catch herself thinking of him as the closest friend she’d ever had. In fact, aside from Alice, he was.
His eyes dared to look directly into hers. There were so many questions that he needed to be answered. She didn’t know the answers and had given up trying to find them.
“You look tired,” Thomas said, concerned. “Did you have the dreams again?”
“They seem to be happening more frequently and are becoming more real.” Tatiana suppressed another yawn. “I try to stay awake, but they always lure me in. I don’t know what it is. I think I must be punishing myself.”
The dreams had steadily become worse. Always the same man came to her, but no longer was she trapped in
the silken covers of a warm bed. Sometimes she was chained to a dank stone wall, the manacles of iron gripping into her flesh as if she was to be punished. It was so real. She’d wake up with her wrists aching. At other times, she would be on what felt like a fur rug. She’d be dressed in a strange costume. Fingers were on her body. If she opened her eyes, all she would see was her reflection looking back at her, appearing so close that her nose would be inches away from its likeness. Wounds would open on her throat, blood trailing quickly out of her neck until she weakened to the point she woke up.
Tatiana shuddered, taking a deep breath.
“Is it your marriage that you fear?” Thomas appeared busy studying the calluses on his hands, before turning them away, almost as if he was embarrassed by them. Fine gentlemen didn’t have callused hands.
Tatiana studied him. He never once mentioned her marriage to her without her saying something first.
“Everything was fine until that night,” Thomas said. “Now this whole manor reeks of darkness and despair.”
“I didn’t realize you were this upset about Alice. I’m so sorry, I…” Unbidden, her hand reached out to him, intent on soothing him somehow. He saw her gesture and pulled back in surprise. He reached for her hand, hesitating before taking it in his. He held her for a moment, staring deeply into her soft green eyes.
“It’s not Alice,” he whispered, his fingers unmoving as if he was afraid she’d snatch her hand away from him. He took a deep breath.
“What is it then?” she inquired, growing concerned. His blue eyes dipped ever so slightly to the ground. He looked so handsome, so youthful and pure, in the bright afternoon sunlight. “You can tell me.”
Thomas took another deep breath. Then, falling to the ground on one knee, he said, “I want you to marry me. Let me take you away from here. Let’s just go, right now. Let’s leave this world behind us.”
Tatiana sat up, shocked. She glanced around the lawn to make sure they were alone. “Get up, quickly, before anyone sees you.”
“I don’t care,” Thomas said, though he did sit back in his chair as she requested. His face shone with boyish excitement and hope though fear lingered there too. His hand gripped hers. She didn’t pull away. He grew emboldened by her silence. “I’m leaving here, for good. I want you to come with me. Don’t wait around for the count. Whatever is causing your nightmares, he is the root of it. Please, I love you, Tatiana. I always have since we were children. I know you never loved me as I do you, but we are great friends, and I know you care for me. I’m content with that. I’ll provide for you and protect you. I can’t give you a house like this, but I can make you happy. I will make you happy. Don’t go to the count. I know if you do you’ll regret it. Don’t ask me how I know, I just do.”
Her mouth fell open at the confession. She knew they had become friends, but she had no idea his feelings had been so much deeper. How could she have missed it? It was as if part of the cloud cleared from her mind. As she thought of leaving her home, leaving her engagement behind, she felt lightened, almost free.
“Yes,” she breathed to both of their surprise. Hearing his voice, so soft and calm, she couldn’t help but say it. He was right. She didn’t feel for him as he did her. But, she didn’t feel fear at the very sound of his voice. The idea of him as a husband didn’t make her heart race. It didn’t bring to mind images of pain and blood and tormenting ecstasy. Her head began to clear of the fog she’d lived under for the last two years. “Yes, Thomas.”
She felt the count’s strange hold on her slipping. Colors swam in her vision as if she was near freedom. She stood up, panting, looking all around her. Energy and life snapped throughout her limbs, heating her. Thomas was stunned by her answer and was slower to join her on his feet. She watched him, her wide jade eyes blinking.
“Bell-a mi-a,” a voice threatened sharply in her head. It wasn’t the normal gentle caress of words, but a hard forewarning. She tried hard to ignore it.
“Tatiana?” Thomas questioned. A smile struggled to form on his face, but it was hesitant, as he watched her subtly changing features. Her skin paled ever so slightly, not that she’d been dark to begin with.
“Your eyes, Tatiana,” Thomas whispered. “They glimmered.”
Tatiana reached up, feeling her face to see if it had changed. At his look of awe, she began to cry. Feelings rushed inside of her, overwhelming her with grief and fear.
“No, Tatiana, it’s all right,” Thomas soothed. He looked around before moving as if he would touch her arm. “My mother always said your family was blessed with gifts. She said your mother was also a natural witch. It’s all right, truly. Don’t cry. Please, don’t cry.”
“She wasn’t a witch, Thomas. My mother was touched,” Tatiana whispered. A strangeness flowed in her veins, and she wasn’t sure the presence inside her mind was gone. She felt as if he lingered, listening to her, waiting to see if and how she would betray him. “She used to say she saw visions of what was going to happen. She claimed a maid was going to steal silver or someone was going to drop her favorite vase. So she fired the maid and wrapped the vase in pillows. She made me promise not to say anything, but I always knew she wasn’t right in the head. And I must be touched, too. That is why I have these dreams.”
“No,” Thomas denied. “You are very sane. I just think you need to get out of this place. Your dreams are trying to warn you to run. They are telling you that all is not right with the count. What sort of gentleman would ask for your hand and then take his leave of you without…? It’s not right. You mustn’t wait for him. Please, Tatiana, say you’ll still marry me. We’ll run away tonight. I’ll take you far away from here. I promise he’ll never find you. I’ll keep you safe. I’ll protect you with my life.”
He sounded so sure of his plan, so sure that he wanted her. Tatiana had no such sureties. Slowly, she nodded. She couldn’t speak. Thomas grinned. He appeared so happy.
“Kiss me,” she whispered, fighting the demon’s hold inside of her. She felt the count trying to get in, trying to pull her back into the dream world he kept her locked inside. She fought him, stiffening her resolve, trying to be free of him.
Thomas couldn’t resist. He surged forward, his lips parted to obey her command. He’d dreamt of kissing her, holding her for so long. To hear her say the words was like fire to his blood.
Tatiana felt his hands on her arms, pulling her into his chest. There was no rush of feeling in his touch, not like in the hands of her dreams. But she did feel something, a gentle kindness, a comfort to which she wasn’t opposed. She knew she could easily let Thomas touch her, wouldn’t mind his kisses or his bed. A part of her even began to long for the safety of it, of him.
“Bella!” The voice came, furious, like a demon emerging from the depths of hell.
Thomas only saw her face. He did not look around, didn’t care if anyone watched. He wanted this more than anything. He wanted her. Tatiana could see it in him. She could detect his emotion radiating in each subtle gesture of his jerking body, making her feel. She sensed his sincerity, his good heart. His lips pressed forward, warm, tender. Her mouth parted, ready to accept him.
The moment his mouth brushed along hers a pain so intense shot through her system. She gasped, wheezing for breath. She thought his touch would kill the beast inside her, but it only infuriated it. She trembled, arching stiffly back from Thomas’ lips without ever knowing the full press of his kiss. She heard screaming in her head, coming from inside. It was her voice calling out in pain. She couldn’t tell if the sound escaped her lips, or only echoed in her mind, but it wouldn’t stop.
“Appartenete a me, bella mia!” the demonic voice snarled. The tone was hard, monstrous, possessive and so very angry with her. The words racked her through her core, tightening coldly on her throat until she nearly swooned for lack of air. “You belong to me. You are mine. You will never escape me.”
She stopped screaming, and realized that she hadn’t moved her lips. The fight had been inside her
. Outside, she’d stayed perfectly still. The shaking in her body stopped as the cloud was yet again over her mind. The numbness invaded her senses once more. She did not have the strength to stop it.
Thomas no longer held her. Gasping in surprise, she found him on his back, lying on the ground, panting for breath as if she’d struck him.
“Thomas?” she asked, frightened. He looked at her in pity, but did not go to her again. He struggled to stand, his legs weak. “What happened? What did I do to you?”
“Tonight.” Thomas brushed himself off. His eyes softened as they took in her face. Whispering, as if they could be overheard in the abandoned side lawn, he said, “Tonight I will come for you. I’ll get you out of here, Tatiana, I promise.”
Tatiana nodded, not understanding what was happening to her. All she knew was that she wanted the voice inside her to stop. She watched Thomas’ back as he slowly walked away from her. He didn’t chance to look at her as he rounded the side of the house. Tatiana wondered how he could still want her, that he could’ve ever wanted her at all.
Ashamedly, she recalled the night all the strangeness started. One of her last memories before drawing a blank was Thomas handing her down from the carriage. His exact words were lost on her, but she remembered him speaking kindly to her. In return, she’d contemplated turning her lifelong friend out of the manor. She shook her head. What a fool she’d been, so young and stupid. She was still young, but it was incredible what two years of living in a nightmare could do to a person.
Chapter Nine
Tatiana grabbed a sturdy shawl and tossed it around her bare shoulders. Her gown was of the richest silk, a fine but simple lavender with trimmings of Honiton lace, looped with silk flowers. Her hair was adorned with a single matching silk flower, coiffured high and fashionable. The dress was perhaps one of her finest and not very suited for traveling. She didn’t care.
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