Deciding to pretend she hadn’t noticed the grimace, Viola offered her a smile. “Good. I was thinking we’d do something different for this visit. A walk through the park might be a nice change.”
The footman came into the room. After Viola and Tabitha turned to him, he said, “Your Grace, your aunt and sisters are here.”
For a moment, Viola couldn’t fathom why they’d come here, but then she remembered she had invited them over so they could meet Tabitha. She gasped and glanced at the clock. If she hadn’t been so preoccupied with waiting for the doctor and then all of this, she might have done a better job of remembering her plans.
“Bring them in,” she told the footman. Once he left, she gave Tabitha an apologetic look. “I forgot I invited them over.”
Evander would have to wait until this evening. She closed her eyes and took a moment to think over anything else she might have forgotten. No. She was sure she had remembered everything else. She really needed to start marking down things she had planned. She was just too busy these days to keep up with everything.
The butler came back into the room with a tray that had a teapot and one teacup on it.
“I hate to trouble you,” Viola told him, “but my aunt and sisters just arrived. Would you go back and get more cups and bring some scones?”
The butler offered a nod and headed right back out of the drawing room.
The footman returned, and her aunt and sisters came into the room.
Viola waved her family into the room. “Tabitha, this is my aunt. You can call her Maud. And these two are my twin sisters, Joanna and Pamela.”
“You can tell us apart because I have a mole on my neck and Pamela doesn’t,” Joanna said, gesturing to the right side of her neck.
“We also respond when you call out our names,” Pamela added. “I will look at you when you say ‘Pamela’, and Joanna will look at you when you say ‘Joanna’.”
Viola laughed. “Yes, that is another way to tell them apart.”
“But if we just came into the room and didn’t say who we were, she’d never know how to tell the difference,” Joanna said. “The mole is the best way to tell us apart. Sometimes Pamela likes to look at someone if they say ‘Joanna’.”
Pamela rolled her eyes. “I haven’t done that in a whole year. When are you going to forget about that?”
“That’s enough,” Viola told her sisters. “It’s not ladylike to argue in public.”
“We’re not in public,” Pamela said.
Viola sighed. “You’re in the company of someone you don’t know.” She motioned to Tabitha.
“But we’re here to meet her,” Pamela replied. “That’s what Aunt Maud said you wanted.”
Joanna nodded. “Yes, she’s a part of our family now that you’re married to her step-father.” She paused and scrunched her nose as she thought over something. “Come to think of it, she’s not really part of our family, is she? She’s your husband’s step-daughter.”
“That makes her our brother-in-law’s step-daughter,” Pamela added, directing the comment to Joanna.
“Right,” Joanna agreed. “And we are Viola’s sisters. Viola is not really her step-mother because our brother-in-law didn’t have Tabitha. There is no blood the two share. A relative is one who shares the same blood as us.”
“Maybe we should think of Tabitha as our step-sister-in-law on our brother-in-law’s side,” Pamela said.
Viola felt a headache coming on. She’d lost track of their line of reasoning, and she was sure they didn’t even know what they were talking about at this point. She caught the sound of someone softly chuckling and saw that Tabitha was struggling not to laugh. Well, at least her sisters could amuse Tabitha.
Viola stopped the two before they could continue. “There’s no sense in going through all of this. It’s all a bunch of nonsense. What matters is that my husband and I think of Tabitha as our daughter. Whether or not she’s related to us by blood has no bearing on whether or not she’s part of our family. As far as you’re concerned, she is your sister-in-law.”
“But if you are her mother, then wouldn’t that make us her aunts?” Joanna asked.
Viola’s eyes grew wide.
Maud shook her head. “I think Viola is referring to your age more than anything else. You two are younger than Tabitha. It’s easier for you two to relate to her as an older sister than a step-niece-in-law.”
Viola groaned and rubbed her temples. Yes, she definitely had a headache coming on. There was no avoiding it.
Tabitha laughed openly this time. “You three are fun. I’m sorry I didn’t get acquainted with you sooner. Have a seat.”
The three hurried to find a seat, but it took Viola a few more seconds for her mind to clear. She pulled up a chair and settled into it.
“Don’t you want to tell them what you told me a little while ago?” Tabitha asked Viola.
Viola straightened up in excitement. Oh, of course, she did! Giving her aunt and sisters a wide smile, she said, “I just found out I’m with child!”
“Does that mean you saw your husband’s face?” Joanna asked in surprise.
“No,” Viola replied. “I already told you that I haven’t seen his face, nor do I plan to.”
“But how can you be expecting a child if you haven’t seen his face?” Joanna asked.
“Never mind that,” Maud hurried to say. “The important thing is that she’s going to have a baby. That will make you an aunt.”
Joanna pointed to Tabitha. “But I’m already an aunt, even though she’s older than me.”
“This child will be younger,” Maud replied. “That’s what makes it fun. I remember when I held you and Pamela after you were born. You two were so tiny. It’ll be fun to hold another baby.”
Joanna, not seeming the least bit impressed, turned her attention to Tabitha. “Have you seen your step-father’s face?”
Though Tabitha seemed surprised by the question, she nodded. “I’m not his wife. It’s all right for me to look at him.”
“Does that mean we can look at him, too?” Pamela piped up.
“Oh, well, I hadn’t thought about that,” Tabitha replied.
The butler returned. This time there were more cups and some scones.
“Thank you,” Viola told him.
He said she was welcome and then glanced over at Tabitha. The two seemed to share some secret message that baffled Viola. Maybe it had to do with the book he’d lent her. Maybe he was privately apologizing for it.
After the butler left, Pamela asked, “Can we see his face?”
“No one but me has seen his face after his third wife died,” Tabitha said.
“Why can you get to see his face but no one else can?” Joanna asked as Viola gave her a cup of tea.
Viola shot her a scolding look. “That’s not an appropriate question.”
“I don’t mind answering it,” Tabitha said then turned her gaze to Joanna. “I know the curse won’t affect me, but there’s a fear among the servants that it will somehow affect them. They have no desire to see his face, even though most had in the past.” She paused. “There’s been so much death in this household that it’s impacted all of us.”
Viola held her breath. Would Tabitha mention the nonsense about the ghost?
“The butler and I are the only ones who visit him,” Tabitha continued. “Well, your sister does, too. However, I’m the only one he will permit to see his face. So, I’m not sure he will let you see him.”
“Your household has seen more than its share of tragedy,” Maud said, her voice soft. “I’m sorry you’ve all gone through so much.”
Tabitha offered her a smile. “We can do no more than live with it. My hope is that no one else suffers an untimely death.”
Noting the way Tabitha glanced her way, Viola replied, “I’m sure everyone will be fine. I haven’t been given any reason to think that death will touch anyone else.”
“Viola’s always been a sensible person,” Maud sai
d. “I’m not surprised she’s not worried. I confess I’m not as brave as Viola. I don’t want to see his face, either, and I’m not even living here.”
“Well, I do,” Joanna said.
“I do, too,” Pamela added.
“But you two won’t,” Viola told them. “Tabitha explained the situation, and you two will abide by it.”
“Can we at least ask if her step-father is ugly?” Joanna asked.
“No,” Viola replied, appalled she would even suggest such a thing.
Joanna rolled her eyes and muttered, “You are much too domineering.”
“Be nice,” Maud told her. “You’re a guest in this home. It’s not your place to insist on doing what you want.” Turning her attention to Tabitha, she began to tell Tabitha more about her and the twins.
Viola took a bite of her scone. Thank goodness her aunt knew how to change topics. The last thing she wanted was to deal with her sisters’ obsession over seeing Evander’s face. With a sigh of relief, she listened as her aunt continued to talk.
Chapter Eighteen
Evander woke up with a throbbing headache. He was slouched forward in his chair. His arm was propped up on the desk, and his head was resting on his arm. He opened his eyes and squinted. The candlelight seemed too bright, so he closed his eyes again.
Something was wrong. He didn’t make it a habit of falling asleep at his desk, and he most certainly wasn’t used to sleeping while eating a light meal in the early afternoon.
He lifted his head and opened his eyes. Things were blurry around him. He shut his eyes again. He started to sit up when he realized two things: his arm had gone numb and his body felt heavy. He used the arm that wasn’t numb to push himself away from the table. Then he took his numb arm and set it across his stomach.
What had happened to him? The last thing he remembered, he was drinking port wine and eating the pudding the butler had brought up for him. Then what? He fell asleep at the desk? Just like that? One moment wide awake, and the next too tired to even go to the bed?
He opened his eyes again, and this time, the room around him came into focus. His head still hurt, but the pain wasn’t as sharp as it’d just been.
There was a little port wine left in his glass, but he had at least half a bowl left of the pudding. He rubbed his eyes and then his forehead. His numb arm began to tingle as feeling returned to it. He shook his arm to hurry the process along. Once his arm was back to normal, he straightened up in the chair.
The ache in his head was still there, but it was much more manageable now. He focused in on the things around him, and this time, he realized there was an object in the chair across from him at the desk.
He froze.
No, it couldn’t be…
Not here in London.
It couldn’t have followed him here.
It hadn’t made a single appearance since he left his estate.
But how else could he explain why his mother’s wall mirror was resting in that chair? It was just as polished as it’d been when he was a child.
He closed his eyes and prayed this had just been his imagination. He prayed that when he opened his eyes, he would wake up and the mirror would be gone. But when he opened his eyes, it was still there. The gold frame seemed to glow in the candlelight, as if mocking him.
Did you ever think you could be free of a ghost?
He searched the attic. The place wasn’t as big as the one at his estate, but there were several large pieces of furniture where an apparition might emerge from. He held his breath and waited to see if it would appear.
Nothing happened.
He didn’t know whether to panic or be relieved.
What did it matter? Even if the thing wasn’t here right now, it would be. That mirror was a warning. It was like a calling card. It was only a matter of time before the ghost made its appearance.
The first time he saw that mirror outside of his mother’s bedchamber was in his bedchamber right after his first wife died. It’d been sitting on his dresser. Despite his apprehension, he returned it to his mother’s bedchamber in the spot it belonged. Then, the next night as he and Tabitha were getting his wife’s body ready for burial, the ghost appeared. That was the only time he’d been with another person when he saw it. After that, it always came to him when he was alone, and it always waited for night. But then, what ghost ever appeared during the day?
He leaned forward to check the pocket watch he’d left on the desk by the candle. It was five. He’d been asleep for four hours. At the moment, it was still day, so he was safe.
He shuddered. After his first wife’s death, the ghost had never said anything. It just lingered somewhere in his room and watched him. He tried to sleep and ignore it. It had never harmed him. But sleep was often impossible, so he ended up sleeping in the den. After a couple of weeks, it showed up there, too, when everyone was asleep.
He was relieved when it stopped showing up after he married his second wife. He thought the ghost had vanished for good. Then, the mirror appeared, once more, in his bedchamber on the dresser. He woke up to find it there, as if mocking him. And his second wife died a week later.
After she died, he hid in the attic to get away from the world, and most of all, the ghost. But the ghost made it a habit of visiting him in the attic. Then it started to speak to him. After a while, he realized it was his mother’s spirit, and when he ventured to ask why she was there, it told him she couldn’t leave because the curse had robbed him of happiness. It was her job to stay with him and bring him joy.
Then she’d spend hours reliving old memories. And all he could do was listen and play along, hoping it would put her mind at ease so she could finally go on to the next life.
When he realized that technique didn’t work, he took a third wife, thinking it would make his mother leave since her ghost had never appeared while his other wives were alive. But then his third wife had to defy the curse by looking at his face. And once more, the mirror appeared. He woke up one morning to find it resting in a chair, just as it was now. Everyone at the estate was too scared to return it to his mother’s bedchamber again, so he had kept it in the attic.
When he moved to London, he’d left it behind. And for months, he hadn’t seen it.
Until now. Until today.
Why? Why did that monstrosity have to follow him?
Because you can’t escape a ghost. It’s pointless to even try.
A sob rose up in his throat, and he put his face in his hands. “Why are you showing up again? I’ve been careful. Viola hasn’t seen my face. Not once has she even peeked at it.”
He didn’t know if the ghost could hear him or not. For all he knew, it was in the room with him. Only, maybe it couldn’t materialize until nightfall.
The conditions of the curse were very clear. As long as Viola didn’t see his face, she was safe. There were no conditions that prevented him from spending time with her.
“Why do you have to keep tormenting me?” he whispered. “Why can’t you just let me be happy?”
He’d removed himself from the rest of the world. He’d holed himself up in a single room in the entire place. He only saw Tabitha, and the butler only came to give him his meals and messages. He always left the chamber pot or laundry at the bottom of the steps in the morning for the chambermaid to deal with. As for the other servants, he might as well be as much of a ghost as the apparition that haunted the estate. And that apparition didn’t seem to be satisfied unless it had his full attention.
He hadn’t told the ghost his plans to go to London. He’d written instructions in a missive for Tabitha to take to the servants. He didn’t know if it would follow him or not. He’d hoped that by leaving in the morning light, he would be able to escape it. At least temporarily. He hadn’t planned to stay in London forever. He just wanted there to be enough time for Tabitha to get married. Then he would return to the estate and the prison he’d made for himself there.
But then Viola came into his life, and she
reminded him of what it felt like to have a connection with the world again. He was back to the way he’d felt while he was growing up, and he remembered how wonderful it was to fall in love. Without the ghost to remind him of all he couldn’t have, it was easy to bring old dreams back to the surface.
He couldn’t stay in this attic. Not now. Not when he knew the ghost would be coming here soon. It always appeared with that blasted mirror.
He gripped the arms of his chair and stared at the mirror that had become a symbol of his torment. At one time, it had been something that brought him comfort after his mother’s death. It’d been her mirror. She’d taken great pleasure in looking at it. He used to watch her as a child while she brushed her hair and talked about the things they would do that day. Then she would pick him up and show him his reflection, often commenting that he was the most handsome lad in all the land. “You’re the fairest of them all,” she would add.
Those had been good memories. Then the mirror started appearing in his bedchamber and, later, the attic after his mother died.
I couldn’t rest in my grave knowing how terrible you’re suffering, the ghost had told him one time. A mother can’t help but offer comfort to her child.
Though the veil the ghost wore was see-through, the candlelight never gave him a good look at her. She didn’t come every night, and there seemed to be no rhyme or reason to her visits. Sometimes she came early in the evenings, and sometimes she came after midnight. He had forgotten what it was like to always live each night, wondering if she would visit him or leave him in peace.
He couldn’t bear the thought of going back to that kind of existence. His entire life had become one in which he’d lived for that ghost. It’d gotten to the point where he could barely remember anything in his past, except for the times he’d spent with his mother, playing games in the drawing room, reading books in the den, riding horses, or going for walks. The ghost would go over those memories until they were seared in his mind.
No. He didn’t want to go back to that. He wanted to be a part of the world again.
Without thinking, he bolted out of his chair, picked up his glass, and threw it at the mirror. The mirror cracked.
Fairest of Them All (Marriage by Fairytale Book 4) Page 19