by Amy Cross
***
By the time the four of them got to the top of the hill and reached the driveway at the front of the mansion, the storm was even stronger. Ephram was limping after his most recent fall, so Kate and Edgar had taken it upon themselves to support the old woman as they headed toward the main building.
Kate couldn't help but notice that the place was far more imposing up close than it had seemed from a distance. With its high, dark facade, the mansion had clearly been styled to make an impression on all who dared approach, and nothing about the place seemed particularly welcoming. Scores of dark windows overlooked the driveway, and Kate couldn't help but wonder if they were being watched as they guided the old woman up the main steps toward the large double wooden door that led inside.
“May the saints protect us,” Ephram muttered, making the sign of the cross on his chest as Edgar let them through.
Kate wanted to tell him not to be so dramatic, but something about the place just seemed to set her on edge. In fact, as the four of them passed the threshold and headed into the dark interior, she could almost feel the atmosphere of the mansion pushing them back, trying to keep them out. Finally, as she helped the old woman into a nearby chair, Edgar hurried back to the door and swung it shut, keeping the elements out but also sealing them all inside. As Ephram attended to his grandmother, Kate took a step back and then turned to look across the vast hallway, and once her eyes had finally adjusted to the gloom, she could do nothing more than stare in shock at the sight before her.
“Welcome to my home,” Edgar said calmly, standing right behind her.
VI
Even as the storm raged outside, the interior of the mansion itself was so quiet, Kate felt that she'd be able to hear a pin drop in one of the adjoining rooms.
It had been several minutes now since they had arrived, and Edgar and Ephram had taken the old woman through to be dried off. Kate, meanwhile, had been left alone in the high-ceiling hallway, and even though she was soaking wet from head to toe she found herself fascinated by the dramatic, almost gothic architecture of the building. The detailing was incredible, with many of the wall's wooden panels decorated with images of dancing figures, while large stained glass windows allowed only a fraction of the late evening light into the building. Kate felt almost as if she had somehow passed through a portal to Victorian England, since the mansion seemed so completely separate from anything else on the island, and the air felt so still.
Stopping by the foot of the large spiral staircase, she looked up at a huge oil painting and realized with surprise that it seemed to depict Edgar Le Compte himself. Only when she stepped closer did she see the plaque at the bottom of the frame, which made clear that the man in the picture was in fact Edgar's grandfather, with whom he shared not only a name but clearly also a great likeness. As far as Kate could tell, the two men appeared to be absolutely identical.
Hearing footsteps nearby, she turned just in time to see Edgar coming through from one of the rooms. He, like her, was soaking wet, his dark shirt clinging to his form.
“I think she'll be okay,” he said as he walked toward Kate. “She's warm now and her grandson is tending to her. I've tried to call for a doctor, but the phone lines are down and mobile reception is out. Not surprising, perhaps, in such a primitive place, but I'm sure we'll be able to summon someone soon. In the meantime, the storm shows no sign of stopping, so I must insist that the three of you remain here as my guests for the duration.”
“Sure,” Kate replied, a little taken aback by the fact that he was telling her, rather than asking her.
“You've noticed the family resemblance, then,” he continued, turning to look up at the painting. “All the men in my family share the same looks. It's quite remarkable, really. None of us have ever seemed to take on anything at all from our mothers. I've sometimes wondered if we shed their influence before we have even left the womb.”
“Is it true that your grandfather went missing?” Kate asked.
“It's true that there are lots of stories about him,” Edgar replied. “The man was known to be quite unusual and rather...” His voice trailed off for a moment, before he turned to her. “But where are my manners? You're soaking wet, and I'm afraid that I am too. Please, allow me to assist you and make you a little more comfortable. This is a large house and much of it has been shut up for many years, but I'm quite certain we can find some fresh clothes for you to wear.”
Kate opened her mouth to tell him that she was fine, that there was no need to make a fuss, but at the last moment she realized that her soaking, cold clothes were clinging to her body and that a change would actually be very welcome. Glancing over at the window, she also realized that the storm showed no sign of abating, and that if anything it just seemed to be getting stronger and stronger.
“This way,” Edgar said, starting to make his way up the spiral staircase. He glanced back at her. “I'm sure we'll find something for you.”