by Edith Layton
“You think we’re haunted?” she asked, laughing.
“No. I’ve been to haunted houses, castles and such. Good fun. Ghosts don’t bother you much. They just go sailing around, rattling things, wanting to be noticed. Here, it’s like someone’s watching you all the time. Let’s go back.”
“You?” She stopped and stared at him. “My baby brother is still afraid of the dark?”
“Not afraid, Evie. Just that the back of my neck prickles. Not a good sign. How many times have you been out here by yourself in the night?”
“Never,” she said. “I’m always with Aubrey.”
“Well, see?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “But we’ll go back right now. I want you comfortable. What are you going to wear to the costume party on All Hallow’s Eve?” she asked, to change the subject.
“Don’t know yet. There are a few days to go, right? I brought some things along, but they don’t seem to suit. Aubrey said there are heaps of old clothes and costumes in the attics here. I’ll look them over. I fancy togging myself out and looking, well, splendid.”
“Good,” she said, linking arms with him. “So do I.”
She parted with him in the hall, looked in on the last lingering guests, gave them a good night, and went up to her bedchamber. She’d sent her maid to bed hours before; the girl was overworked with all the company. Even though they’d gotten extra help from the village, few village maidens could play ladies’ maid to Eve’s guests. And even those guests that had brought their own maids with them always wanted more personal service.
Some lamps in the bedchamber had been left lit, lending a rosy glow to the darkness. Eve took off her gown and shift, and then stood staring into the looking glass.
She studied herself dispassionately. Nice breasts, she thought, but small. Firm, though, and they titled upward. She put a hand on the curve that defined her trim waist. Not much use for that, these days, she thought sadly, what with fashion’s decreeing gowns that tied under the breasts. She could have a waist round as a carriage wheel and no one would know. Her stomach was flat…well, slightly rounded, only that. Her hips were in proportion to her breasts. Nicely defined, but nothing extraordinary, in her opinion. She sighed.
Aubrey entered the room and came toward her at once, smiling. She didn’t shrink or try to cover her nakedness. He’d taught her not to be ashamed. Anyway, he did it for her; he stood behind her and put his hands over her breasts, cupping them. She shivered. His moved his hands to her shoulders, and frowned.
“You’re tense. You look troubled. Why?” he asked, watching her reflection in the mirror.
She saw him in the glass in front of her, where he stood behind her, glowing like a candle in the dim room. Again she wondered at his masculine beauty. Somehow, seeing his reflection made him seem even less real, even more perfect, even slightly dreamlike. And yet she knew how very much flesh and blood he was. He was her husband, she knew him well, and still again, found herself wishing she knew him better, wondering if two people ever could be as close as one except in the act of love.
He gently kneaded her shoulders. “What is it, Eve?” he asked when she didn’t answer at once.
She shook herself from her reverie. “I don’t know,” she said, with a shrug.
“Something anyone said? Tell me who. I’ll turf them out this minute.”
“Don’t you dare. Actually, I suppose it was Sherry, and he didn’t mean anything by it. We were walking outside and talking just now, but he was so uneasy we had to come in. He said that though the house was wonderful, he couldn’t like the night here. He said he felt as though he was being watched.”
Aubrey’s hands stopped for a moment. Then he went on gently kneading her shoulders. “Did he, though?” he said. “Curious. I think he had either too much wine at dinner, or too many longing glances from Miss Morris, Miss Pennick, and probably Lady Turner too. Poor fellow must be feeling hunted, if not haunted. I’ll go riding with him tomorrow and find out what’s troubling him. It’s likely that he saw something he didn’t like by day and didn’t consciously take note of it, and it came back to bother him in the night. But by then he didn’t know what it was.”
She tilted her head back. “You have an answer for everything.”
He bent and kissed her shoulder, lightly. “Except one thing.”
She tilted an eyebrow.
“Will you make love to me now?”
“You knew the answer to that too,” she said, turning to put her arms around him and kiss him fully.
“Tonight,” he said, as he picked her up in his arms, “let’s try to make you forget tonight.”
She laughed into the hollow of his neck as he carried her to their bed.
Within minutes she had forgotten the night, and the day, and herself. All she could feel was exquisite pleasure and infinite joy she always found in her husband’s embrace. She could see his splendor even with her eyes closed, but she seldom closed them, because she wanted to look at him forever, or at least, until rapture at last gave way to sleep.
Eve yawned, stretched, put out a hand, and found her husband gone. She opened her eyes to find the sun well up. So he was with his guests, riding or showing them the grounds. She’d slept late, but didn’t worry. Her female guests were from London, they’d sleep longer. She rose and went to the window. Another glorious day, as though autumn itself was in league with her and her plans.
Betty helped her select a pretty blue gown sprigged with green, and Eve went down the stairs.
Eve heard strange female voices and cocked her head. The men were either out riding or still sleeping. No one was stirring except for all the hired help, who were busily preparing the great house for another day. But these women spoke in rough accents. She realized they were the workers hired from the village, and they were chattering as they did their chores in the dining parlor. She paused to listen to them.
“Well, I says it’s a good way to earn the extra coin,” an unfamiliar voice was saying. “Imagine getting money just for polishing up bits of old silver.”
“It’s better than slopping a hog, I’d say,” another agreed. “And a rare old chance to see the place. I heared of it since I was born, but never seen the like, inside. A room for everything, just like my Gran said.”
“Good way to see some real ladies too,” another said excitedly.
“Best way to see the master,” the second female said, giggling. “Ain’t he something for sore eyes? I seen him from afar, but up close? Lord!”
“My Gran says he’s the spit of his Da, and his Da were the spit of his, and he, of his, so far back as anyone can remember. They’re like as peas, except for their hair, her Gran told her, she says,” another put in. “The old folks say there be something weird about ’em, that’s the truth.”
“Weird about being so wicked handsome? Lord, I could wish all the men hereabouts were weird then!”
“And the ladies of the manor, they was all grand ladies of wealth and title, so I heard. This new little one be nothing like that.”
“Yeah, but the others they was all sickly, wasn’t they? Not one child never born in this place, ’cause the ladies had to go abroad to have them. And then, they never returned.”
“How’s that? You’ve rats in your noggin. Why, there’s the master of the house, I seen him just this morning.”
“Clunch! I meant the ladies of the house never return.”
“Good thing then, I say, that this one is not so grand.”
“I beg your pardon!” said an annoyed voice that Eve recognized. It was one of the servant girls who had come with her from London.
“Didn’t mean nothing by it,” the first speaker said. “She’s a lovely bride, all like her right well. It’s just that Gran said…” Eve had to move closer to hear the low whisper, “…that Far Isle itself were weird. In the olden times, I means. What with the Old Folk of the forest and such living here since forever.”
“And such?” asked the maid from London
. “What ‘and such’ do you mean?”
“Fairies and the like.”
“What?” The London maid laughed. “Little folk dancing on pansy petals, you mean, and you’re afraid? Get away with you.”
“It’s more serious, it’s pure evil, and they ain’t little at all. And although I don’t like to be the one to tell you,” the other woman said in tones that clearly gave the lie to what she said, “but you being from Lunnon and all, you likely don’t know. My Gran says that there was all sort of mischief and wickedness done in this place and on this here very spot afore the house was ever built. Strange magic,” she said with evident pleasure, “wickedness in the night, and all.”
“Ha!” said the London maid. “Pull the other one. There ain’t nothing worse than what’s on the streets of London by night. It would turn your hair white if you seen what we have out in the night in the streets of London Town!”
This caused much laughter.
“Done with your chores, are you?” the housekeeper’s voice said clearly and coldly. The room fell still as she went on. “I see. The epergne polished enough to see your face in? The forks and knives clear as crystal? All the candlesticks free of wax and gleaming? Why no, that isn’t so. You’d best get on with it instead of having a party, because no matter how lenient the master and the mistress of this house, I do not pay for services not rendered.”
They got back to work, silently, as Eve ducked back up to the stair. She took the last step down slowly, looking thoughtful as she did.
“Now what can the matter be?” Aubrey asked her as she entered the breakfast parlor and he rose to greet her.
“Ah, she’s always a bear in the morning,” Sherry said. “Give you good morning, Eve. I see the country life has you rising before noon.”
She made a face at him. “I never did like to sleep that late, and you know it. Good morning all. Today, I have to be sure everyone we wanted to have come here is here. So if you have anyone you want to our Halloween Ball it’s now or never. Let me know, please.”
“I sent my invitations,” Aubrey said. “They’ll be here soon enough. Pitiful few there are too. I hope your list is longer.”
She beamed at him. “We have twelve guests here now, and there’s room for many more, so I’ll invite them. It’s not too late. The only problem was thinking of whom not to ask. I want everyone here, so that they can envy me.”
“Then I have to put a sprig of ash over the door,” Aubrey said. “To ward off jealousy and evil intentions.”
“You don’t believe in superstition, do you?” she asked.
“No,” he laughed. “Knock on wood.”
At luncheon, the company was told about more guests arriving. They were delighted, especially since they’d be at the house when the others arrived, and so would socially score one over the rest of the party. They passed the day riding, playing cards, and walking. In the evening they danced, and sang. At last, the company got to bed, and in some cases, into each other’s beds. Even though the guests were known for living London hours, the outdoor life they’d led made them all seek their beds, or someone else’s, much earlier than was their habit in Town. All seemed quiet and content in the Hall when the old case clock in the green salon chimed the eleventh hour.
Eve stirred in Aubrey’s arms.
“When?” she asked sleepily, tracing the curve of his naked back with one finger, “Whenever shall I get used to this ecstasy?”
“Never,” he said, burying his face in her neck.
She chuckled. Then she spoke again. “Aubrey?” she asked lightly, so lightly that he listened closer. “I heard…well, I overheard some gossip. Is it true that your mother was a great lady, and very beautiful?”
“It is,” he said.
“And your grandmother too? And her mother as well?”
He propped himself up on one elbow. “Just who were you overhearing?”
“Never mind,” she said. “Is that true?”
“It is. Or so I hear. Why do you ask?”
“And that they all grew sickly, and so had to go abroad to have their babies? And,” she added in a rush, “that none survived to come back to England?
He was still. He lay back on his pillow. “True,” he finally said. “Are you afraid you’ll get sick if you stay with me, and conceive a babe with me?”
“No,” she said. “Well, maybe not. I don’t know.”
“No,” he said, turning, and holding her close. “I promise you, no. You’ll stay well, and if you wish we’ll stay here until you’re very old. Or, if you want, I can take you to see the Continent too. We don’t have to repeat history. We won’t. And you’re nothing like the others.”
“So I heard,” she said sadly. “They were all grand titled ladies.”
“You are my lady,” he said. “You and I were meant for each other. I know it. I feel it in my heart. Don’t you?”
“I do,” she said, as she had when they’d wed.
He kissed her to reassure her, and then he kissed her because she clung to him, and then he kissed her because he was impelled to. They made love slowly, quietly, as they were each trying to convince the other of their honesty and desire.
When she arched and cried her completion, he allowed himself to join her, and they clung even closer until their throbbing bodies calmed.
In moments, she was asleep in his arms.
He was falling asleep when his eyes suddenly opened wide, and he shivered. He looked at her to be sure she was sleeping. He passed a hand over her closed eyes to ensure it, and then rose from bed. He pulled on a dressing gown, and left the room.
Aubrey quickly made his way downstairs and paced through the darkened Hall until he came to a back door. He went out and walked through a copse of trees that flanked the great house, until he came to a clearing. Then he shrugged out of his dressing gown and stood alone under the moon, and raised his arms, until he looked like a pale luminous pillar reaching to the sky. He stood, waiting.
He threw back his head, filled with exultation. He’d known it! He’d felt it. It was true, at long last. He’d conceived a child! A son.
He whispered a silent incantation of thanks, and opened his eyes. They gleamed silvery as the sickle moon above him. It was done. Soon, he could live his own life again, free of the compulsion that had carried him this far. There was no one he could share this with, and the furious joy he felt was almost too big to contain. There had never been anyone to share with. He’d never cared before. Now he did. But that was likely because there soon would be someone.
He picked up his dressing gown, put it on, and hurried back to his bedchamber.
Eve was still sleeping soundly, of course. He curled up in the bed behind her, his hand on the gently rounded abdomen that contained such riches. His own heart was still beating wildly. A sudden realization sliced through his jubilation. He pressed his lips to her hair. In that moment, he loved her as never before. And the best part, and the worst part, was that he realized he’d come to really care for her.
Chapter 10
The night of the ball finally came, and when it did, when Eve first saw her husband in his costume, in their bedchamber, he took her breath away again. Would she never get used to it? She lived with the man, she slept with him, saw him morning and night, and still she experienced this feeling of utter wonder when she beheld him. But tonight, he was something to behold.
Aubrey was dressed as king of Far Isle Hall. His costume subtly referenced the mystical history of the place. His costume might have been out of the Renaissance, but it was too ethereal even for that colorful time. He looked entirely royal, impossibly handsome, and magnificently unearthly.
He wore a closely fitted long silver tunic over green tights. The tunic showed the breadth of his shoulders, and the tights, his strong legs. A silvery cape was flung carelessly over one shoulder, and he wore green slippers. A silver crown sat atop his black hair. That was all, and that was almost too much. Although his costume was outrageously foppish, even f
or the Renaissance period, he was entirely masculine, and beautiful, of course.
He made Eve feel lust, and pride, and excitement, all as usual, she thought with the usual astonishment she felt when she really looked at him. But tonight, in fantasy, he had become what she always saw him as in her imagination: too exotic, too splendid, too wondrous to be true.
Then she looked down at herself. She wore a diaphanous green gown, and silver slippers. A silver crown and small white flowers had been woven into her curls. Simplicity suited her. She might not compare to Aubrey, but she felt she didn’t shame him. She glowed too, and the simple elegant clothing showed off her lithe form and graceful step as nothing she’d ever worn before.
Aubrey had selected their costumes, and she pleased him, so she held her head high.
“The king and queen of Far Isle Hall,” Aubrey said with satisfaction, as they stood and gazed into the glass in their bedchamber. He offered her his arm. “Shall we go and await our guests, my queen?”
She nodded, took his arm, and feeling oddly light, and strangely reassured, she followed him down the stairs into the main hall.
To make the fantasy of All Hallow’s night complete, the hall was hung with rowan, willow, and wildflowers picked from nearby meadows. Late roses and asters, plumy weeds and scented herbs, gourds and red haws, nuts and blackberries were strewn, artfully but seemingly artlessly, on tabletops and mantelpieces. Ropes of leaves were strung through the stair rails, and overhead hung gilded apples and silvered pears. Everywhere too, there were vases of silver overflowing with trailing vines and wildflowers.
The punch bowls were filled with blood red wine and hot crabapples steaming and hissing. Fires were lit in every hearth, strewn with herbs and boughs of fresh fir to make the house redolent, the scent wild and refreshing. Lamps and candles were lit and strategically placed, so it was not too bright, but all could be seen. Here and there a long window was left ajar so that the draperies and candle flames stirred with the breezes, as though spiritual guests were streaming in.