by Rachel Secor
“What are you doing?” May-Jewel asked, her face pinched up in distaste.
“Come here,” Katherine said, and shoved the cloth under May-Jewel’s nose. “Smell this.”
“Ugh! That’s disgusting!” She shoved the offensive material away from her nose.
“That smell is of burnt wood and sulfur! That proves that something occurred here, and someone went through an awful lot of trouble to hide it afterwards.”
“Don’t look at me!” May-Jewel said. “That old man was in here before us. He could have had something to do with it. I know that an odious piece of cloth won’t be enough to convince Alex of what you experienced. He’d say that the smell of sulfur doesn’t prove anything.”
“Of course it does!” Katherine said frowning. “Why wouldn’t it? It’ll prove that there was a fire, that it was chemical in nature, and had to be set on purpose.”
“Don’t jump to conclusions. Sulfur has been used for centuries to treat skin disease. What did you say your mother died of?”
Katherine frowned. “It wasn’t from a skin disease,” she declared walking from the cottage.
May-Jewel closed the door and caught up with her. “Well, perhaps the fire was someplace else,” she offered, “and, being half asleep, you thought it was here in the cottage.”
“No!” Katherine cried emphatically. “Oh, forget it. I don’t want to discuss it any further. Not the cottage, not the fire, nor anything else. Either you believe me or you don’t!” She stormed up the path.
“You have to admit that these happenings are a bit theatrical,” May-Jewel said, matching Katherine’s pace. “People who are there but not really there, burning rooms that aren’t actually on fire, shadows in shadows watching people. It would be wise if you didn’t go around saying anything about these things. People might think you’re a bit, you know… daft.”
Once in her chamber, Katherine sank on the bed. “You don’t have to stay with me,” she said as May-Jewel sat down beside her. “I’m perfectly all right.”
“I know, but you look like you need to rest.” Avoiding Katherine’s stern look, she suddenly asked, “Don’t you trust me?”
“Of course not! Why should I trust you? I don’t trust anyone around here.”
“Well, you’re going to have to trust someone sometime. Don’t move. I’ll be back in a minute,” May-Jewel said running from the room. She returned with a vial in her hand. “Here, take this,” she said offering it to her.
“What is it?”
“It’s a sleep inducer. It’s to help you sleep.”
Scowling, Katherine watched her stir the grey liquid into a glass of water.
“You don’t really think I’m going to drink that?”
May-Jewel placed the tumbler on Katherine’s night table, then sank into a chair. “You need to sleep, so please take the medication.”
Picking up the glass, Katherine turned its cylindrical form around in her hand. Suspicious of its contents, she placed it back down. As she studied May-Jewel’s face, she saw only a spoiled, pampered girl who was capable of manipulating people. But was she capable of poisoning someone? “At this point, I need more than sleep,” she mumbled. “I need answers, and I need to bathe this smoke residue off of me.” Katherine rose. Taking up her hand mirror, she examined her face. Her eyes were still swollen and, though her cheeks were smudged with grime, she was shocked by the paleness of her skin. She ran her fingers through her thick, disarranged hair as a ring of despair suddenly encompassed her. “So much has happened over the last few days,” she lamented. “I’m not sure if I can handle much more.”
“I think that someone is purposely trying to scare us away from here,” suggested May-Jewel. “You met a strange woman in your room and saw a fire in the cottage. It resembles a plot from a Radcliff novel. What I don’t understand is Alex’s mindset toward you. I don’t like any of this. We should investigate. We should find out what’s going on. And, most of all, we should stick together.”
“Us? We?” Katherine responded sarcastically. “What is this companionship that you suddenly want to apply to you and me? I’ve already told you that I don’t trust you. For all I know, you’re the one trying to drive me away.”
With an exasperated sigh, May-Jewel replied, “Your contempt and suspicions are wearing a bit thin. In the beginning I was simply willing to try to buy your share of Wistmere. But now if someone is trying to harm you, how safe do you think I am? Listen for once with your head and not with that granite pride of yours. I said ‘we’ because there’s a problem here, and we are involved. You can go on alone, but together there’s a chance that we might figure out who is the cause of what’s happening and why. Alex isn’t going to be of any help so…”
“No, I’m in this alone,” Katherine broke in, pouring water into the basin. “These things are happening to me not to you!” She washed off her face and arms.
Silence blanketed the chamber. For a while, May-Jewel sat staring into the embers of the fire. She was vexed by Katherine’s distant composure and suspicious glance. “Look, I’m not the one doing these things to you. When was I ever out of your sight? And for what purpose?”
“You and Alex were alone when I came up to retire. You could have set it up then.”
Her logic seemed plausible and May-Jewel couldn’t argue with it. But she retorted, “You can’t believe that. Besides, you’re not the only one experiencing strange things.”
Katherine spun around. “What do you mean?” Then she remembered May-Jewel’s words, ‘shadows in shadows, watching people.’
“How did you know about me being watched?” She eyed at May-Jewel suspiciously. “Either you were the one doing the spying or…”
“I, too, have been watched,” May-Jewel informed her. She parted the drapes from one of the windows and looked for a moment at the pink dawn. “Before going to the dining room, I lingered in the alcove down the corridor to enjoy the last strains of the day. Someone was standing in the gazebo… watching me.”
“Are you sure that the person was watching you? There’re a lot of windows overlooking that garden.”
“Are you sure that you talked to a maid in your room?” May-Jewel retorted.
“All right,” Katherine said, changing into a fresh nightgown. “The person you saw, was it a man or a woman? Tall or short?”
“I’m not sure. Shadows are deceiving, and it’s hard to tell when looking down at something just what size it is. It could have been six feet tall or as short as a child. I just don’t know!”
Katherine sat on the edge of the bed and stifled a yawn. She picked up the glass of medicine. “Odd that you used that expression,” she remarked. “The strange maid that was here is as small as a half-grown child.” She put the glass to her lips and, looking over the rim at May-Jewel, asked, “What’s in this?”
“I’m not trying to poison you. It’s a harmless potion that will help you sleep. If it were my intent to poison you, I could have done it a dozen times. You’ve got to learn to trust me.”
Katherine tilted the glass and drank its contents. “It has nothing to do with trust. I just have to be sure about you.”
“I won’t gratify that with a reply. Sleep well.”
Streams of daylight streaked through the cracks in the drapes and fell across the coverlet as Katherine settled into a deep sleep. May-Jewel extinguished the lamp and retired to her own room.
The tinny hands of the pillar and scrolled clock pointed to 5:45. May-Jewel, exhausted and troubled, stood for a moment at the window looking down at the garden. She pulled her frilly pink robe about her. Putting Katherine out of her mind, she considered Alex, trying to discern his character. One moment he’s kind, concerned, and even seductive, and the next moment he’s cold, insensitive, and impatient. A knock on the door suddenly interrupted her thoughts.
“Katherine?” She unbolted her door. “I thought for sure you would be fast asleep by now.”
A form brushed quickly past her into the room.
>
“Alex!” Stunned by his bold intrusion, May-Jewel, trying to move him back out the door, pushed against his chest.
“I didn’t think you’d ever come out of her room,” he whispered. “I wanted to see you.” Taking her hands into his, he raised them to his mouth and softly kissed her palms.
“Alex!” she gasped, jerking her hands free from his. “Leave my room at once!” Her voice was edged with scorn. She was tired and didn’t want to play games.
But Alex wasn’t to be put off. He grabbed her, crushing her to him. May-Jewel quivered with the nearness of him. As his broad hands inched up her back, a fire blazed within her. Her desires burst to life, and she was unable to command the strength to pull away. He bared her shoulders and kissed the nape of her neck.
“No!” she cried. “Stop! You must leave!” Somehow between her burning passion and her weakening moral fiber, she found the strength to extricate herself from his hold. She ran to the door and flung it open. “Get out of here, Alex. Now!”
With a cocksure smile, Alex complied. He knew he was a conqueror despite the fact that there wasn’t any apparent territorial gain. As he walked passed her, he touched her cheek. “Would an apology help?”
Slapping his hand from her face, May-Jewel pushed him through the door and quickly slid the bolt in place. Alex’s aggression had more than angered May-Jewel. She was livid with indignation. But it was self-indignation. She reddened with shame at her own near submissiveness when she contemplated what she almost allowed him to do. Shivering, but not from the cold, she retreated to her bed.
* * *
It was almost mid-morning when the heiresses reawakened. The cook had supplied a brunch of cold ham, muffins with marmalade, and tea in the sitting room.
“This is the first normal food offered me since I’ve arrived in this part of the world,” May-Jewel commented, biting happily into the fresh, hot muffin.
A frown filled Katherine’s delicate features. “What do you mean, ‘normal’ food? Our food is normal and, if you gave it a chance, you’d come to like it.”
“So you do like something about your homeland. I was under the impression that you hated everything about Wistmere and Scotland.”
“You come to the strangest conclusions about people. There’s only one thing I hate, and that is Sir Robert Craig. Pass the marmalade, please.”
May-Jewel smiled. The venom was less biting this time as Katherine spoke their father’s name. Was she softening? May-Jewel hoped so. “I suggest,” she said after they had finished breakfast, “that we explore as much of our new home as daylight permits and try to find your mysterious Selina.”
“Yes, but before we do, I want to clear my mind and do some thinking.” Rising, Katherine announced that she was going for a walk. As May-Jewel about to stand, she added, “Alone.”
“I don’t think that’s wise,” May-Jewel protested, “in view of all that’s been happening lately.”
“I’ll be fine.” With that, Katherine left the room and exited the manor.
A gentle wind embraced her as she ventured along a grassy path away from Wistmere. The peace and quiet did more to clear her mind than the drug induced sleep had. As a child she hadn’t been allowed on this side of the manor. She could never understand why. Had it been attended to, it would have been beautifully landscaped with assorted bushes, flowers and trees, the kind of oasis where one could get lost or find solitude, and solitude was what she was seeking. She didn’t want to relive the past 48 hours. That wasn’t her intent. She strove only to make sense out of the past events that threatened her composure and self-confidence. But that wasn’t to be.
“Mistress St. Pierre.” A voice suddenly broke the stillness.
Katherine’s knees instantly weakened to hear her name suddenly spoken where no one else should be. She spun around to find Vicar Hawes coming toward her. A gasp was all the greeting he received.
“Oh, I’ve startled you! I’m so sorry,” he said, moving closer to her.
“No, no,” she replied, recovering from her fright. “I was merely surprised to meet anyone here, that’s all.”
“I come here often. I find it’s easier to be in the Lord’s presence when I’m out in His element. Don’t you?” Not waiting for a reply, he continued, “I mean, sometimes it’s difficult to pray with all of the distractions at the manse.” Taking in a deep breath, he surveyed the vista before them. “Isn’t God’s creation wonderful?”
With a faint smile, Katherine nodded. She didn’t quite know what comment to make in response. No one had ever cornered her with so open a statement about God. The vicar spoke as if everyone should be on such informal terms with the Creator of all things. Katherine had always shrunk within herself when words of faith were spoken within her hearing. But oddly Vicar Hawes’ words seem to give her comfort.
The vicar smiled back at her. “Seems as if my outspokenness has me in an embarrassed spot again.” He chuckled. “It’s a habit of mine, I guess. But if we’re to be friends, you will have to become used to me freely speaking my mind.” He reached for her hand, and she surprised herself by giving it to him.
“It’s all right,” she stammered. “I’ve not been in contact with much faith, except the little my Mother taught me. I hate to admit it, but it makes me uncomfortable to speak about God. I don’t know why.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that feeling. It goes away, however, once one gets used to doing it, speaking to the Lord, that is.” Placing her arm onto his, they started walking back the way he had just come.
“Mistress St. Pierre,” he began.
“Call me Katherine, please.”
“Katherine, I hope I’m not being rude when I tell you that at my visit last evening I sensed a little discord between the three of you.”
She halted briefly, apparently taken back by his observation and not sure whether to deny it or not. But his charming smile put her at ease, and she began walking again. “Yes, well, it’s all so very unreal, finding myself back here again after so many years. Things are a little… awkward I’m afraid.”
He nodded, accepting her explanation of the moment and then stated, “I hope you will come to trust me and feel that you can tell me what’s on your mind, especially any doubts or fears that you may be experiencing. I understand such things, it comes with the territory.” His grin broadened. “And I wasn’t always a vicar, you know.”
For a moment she just looked at him. She knew then that she could never be self-conscious around him, that they would be friends, the kind of friend she had never been privileged to have before. An honest smile spread over her countenance.
“And by the way,” he added as they continued to stroll down the path, “I feel I owe you an apology.”
“Whatever for?”
“For what I said last night concerning your childhood. I didn’t mean to upset you, for I could see you were already distressed. I thought the reference to your youth here might be of comfort to you.”
Katherine was taken back. No one had ever cared about her feelings before, especially past hurts. “There’s no need for an apology, Vicar.”
“Call me David,” he broke in.
“David,” she smiled and then continued. “It’s uncharacteristic of me to display any emotion in front of others. I had just been hurt, that’s all. I should have hidden it better, I suppose. I wasn’t aware that anyone had noticed it.”
“I guess that noticing, too, comes with the territory. But do accept my apology anyhow. I do tend to blunder through ‘first’ visits. The fault lies in thinking that everyone had my joyful youth, so I figure that the topic of one’s childhood is safe territory for conversation. I’ll tread a different course on future visits.”
Katherine couldn’t help but laugh. How refreshing his humbleness. Wanting to know more about him, she asked, “Have you been here long?”
“Scotland or at the manse?”
She grinned. “Both I guess.”
“I was born in this country but s
pent my childhood mostly in Africa, England and India, traversing the world with my missionary parents. As for being at the manse, I’ve been here about four or five years now. I mustn’t be doing a good job, however,” he teased, “for they keep old Earnan Macailean here as well. He’s been vicar since Sir James was the master of the estate.”
“I never knew Sir Robert’s father. We weren’t allowed to leave the confines of the cottage when I was a child.”
“We?”
“My mother and I. It was just the two of us.”
“Until you were eight and were sent to school,” he finished with a chuckle.
“Yes.” She smiled, pleased that he remembered what she had told him.
They walked a moment in silence. As they did so, Katherine deliberated whether she should relate to David the strange events that had been happening since arriving at the manor. Having nothing to lose and everything to gain, she said, “Since you’ve been here for a while, I assume that you know everyone on and around the estate and in the villages nearby?”
“Yes, I suppose I do. Why?”
“Do you know of a rather large, brawny man? He would be a head or so taller than Alexander and with dark features.”
David thoughtfully shook his head. “No, I can’t say that I know a man of that description. Perhaps I can inquire to Earnan for you. He knows everyone from one to a hundred. Is this man important to you?”
She struggled to put the right words in order for an answer. She wanted to tell him of her scare at the cottage and of her rescuer, but suddenly she couldn’t say anything. A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she slid her arm from his. “I guess I should be getting back to the manor,” she said abruptly.
“The manse is just down there,” he pointed. “It’s a short distance from the fork where we met. If you need anything, please send for me. I’ve enjoyed our walk and our talk.”