‘But Charles…’ It came out as a whine and I couldn’t stand whining.
‘Very well!’ I shouted. She flinched. ‘I shall send some servants with you. ‘In fact—’ I swept the tray off the table and the porridge bowl shattered and the coffee pot smashed. ‘I shall send all the damn servants back with you. We can manage perfectly well on our own.’
Bella rammed her fist into her mouth and ran out of the room.
‘The carriage will leave at ten!’ I shouted after her. I pulled on the bell rope, jangling it for all it was worth.
When the maid came in, I imparted the news to her as well – that they would all be travelling back with Bella at ten today.
‘Pass the message on!’ I said, still angry at my sister. ‘Make sure everyone knows and the carriage driver is informed as well. I expect to see none of you remaining here after mid-morning. I threw the shirt I had been clutching on the bed. There was no need to dress now. The orders had been given.
The girl looked as if she was going to cry, but it was not her place to question my decisions. A flustered curtsey and she was away, running along the corridors no doubt towards the servants’ staircase.
I waited until the corridors were empty and order had been restored, then took a deep breath. My head was spinning and I felt rather like I was underwater – everything was wavery and unclear; but I blinked and thought of Ceit and mentally checked off the work I had to do and I rallied.
‘Ceit.’ I spoke her name aloud and hurried towards the secret doorway. I had left her alone too long. I hoped she would forgive me.
***
Chapter Eleven
She was sitting at the dressing table when I burst into the room. She was combing her hair out and it shone like polished jet.
‘We will be alone,’ I announced triumphantly. ‘Just you and me . In a few hours we will answer to nobody and be bothered by nobody. Think of what we can achieve!’
I dropped to my knees beside her and grabbed her free hand. ‘I’ve sent them all away.’ I laughed at the ingeniousness of the plan. ‘Think of that. Just us. Together. I will have no need to lock my work up. We will have no need of anything but each other. I’m sorry, but breakfast is ruined. I have some coffee if you would like that? It may be a little on the cold side now, but it’s something. We don’t even have to hide in the governess’s room. We will have the whole house to ourselves. Imagine that!’ I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation and how well it had worked out for us.
Ceit looked shocked for a moment, the hairbrush hovering by her ear. She dropped it with a clatter onto the surface of the table then leaned forward. She took hold of my chin with her free hand, then kissed me, so determinedly and so confidently, that I knew I had made the right choice.
My sister’s pettiness slipped from my mind like spider’s silk and I concentrated on nothing but returning that kiss.
Perhaps, part of me thought, Ceit can share my bed properly tonight. There would be nobody else at the property to be wary off.
The thought was exciting. I wished the hours would pass quickly, so we might be alone in our ivory tower.
***
The hours up until ten o’clock were interminable. I did not leave my room. I ignored my sister’s pleas as she sobbed and howled and battered on the door. I did not answer that door to anyone.
‘You’re just like Uncle Ruairí!’ she screeched at one point. ‘He went mad up here as well. You’ll do the same. You are mad!’
I did not respond. Instead, I contented myself with writing a poem about Ceit and about freedom on a piece of paper I had found in the bureau. I think it had been Ruairí’s letter writing area, and I was delighted to see it was well stocked with pen, pencils, ink and paper. That would fill my time in until ten.
Ceit sat, cross-legged on my bed and watched me. The green dress was most becoming. I told her to stay where she was and that, when I had finished the poem, I would sketch her.
She did not complain.
She was a most inspiring companion, and I told her so.
***
Chapter Twelve
The next few days were the best days I have ever experienced. After I saw the carriage disappear down the driveway, the horse hooves kicking up piles of slush as they trotted along, I put all thoughts of Bella out of my mind.
‘The Groom will come back,’ I had told Ceit companionably as we strolled through the leafless gardens that afternoon, breathing in the untainted air and the freedom, ‘but he lives in the village and the stables are not our concern. The most important thing is that we have the house to ourselves and we do not have to skulk around, hiding from people.’
We stopped next to the rose garden and I told Ceit how beautiful it was in the summer. ‘We are within the Gulf Stream,’ I said, enjoying informing her of this knowledge. It didn’t cross my mind that she might know already if she was relatively local. ‘It keeps the climate rather milder here. You’ll see; when the roses are out, the smell is divine and the colours magnificent.’ Truly, I don’t even think Bella had considered that fact. Of all the places in Scotland to stay, we were extremely fortunate to have Howard House situated where it was. My sister was, I determined, selfish and silly – just as I had suspected.
Ceit nodded, her eyes wide and interested as she stared about her. Her soft hand was in mine and my imagination fired again – a few years hence, Ceit and I, living here with our children; my discussing the climate with them, holding their tiny hands; them nodding excitedly when they learned something new.
My heart swelled with joy. Four children. I thought it would be nice to have four children, then they would always have a friendly companion, should they argue with another sibling.
I looked down at Ceit, fondly imaging her with our children running about her skirts; I hoped they would be as beautiful as her.
I would paint them all. And maybe, I considered, take some photographs. That was something I hadn’t yet experimented with.
I laughed and shook my head in wonderment. ‘Incredible woman,’ I said to Ceit. I took her face in my hands and kissed her. ‘You just do not know the effect you have on me and that makes it more wonderful still.’ I pulled away and saw one rose blooming still, its flower blown – but it was there, the petals blood red and velvety.
I leaned down and plucked it from the stem. ‘For you,’ I said, and tucked it behind Ceit’s ear. ‘It suits you.’
She laughed and secured it better, pushing it into her hair.
‘And now,’ I said, standing back and admiring her, ‘I’d like to continue our work in the drawing room.’
Ceit had agreed and we turned, walking back to the house through the winter gardens, and that was the pattern of the days that followed.
The nights had fallen into a pattern as well. Ceit now slept in my room, beside me. We made love quietly and carefully, our eyes locked upon one other’s. She never spoke or whispered, she was just there and I was grateful for it. The days were so full of passion and creativity, that night time and the calm restitution of her love were all that I needed to keep me grounded.
But in that dreamlike state, halfway between wakefulness and sleep, she would appear again as she had those first two nights. She would speak to me and laugh with me and take me to the peaks of mountains and the depths of the ocean.
Then I would open my eyes and reach out and clutch at her, wanting her to continue – and she would be lying there, quietly, peacefully, her breath even; and I would lie awake wondering what was real and what was imagined, wishing with all my heart that I could slip away to that wild place with her and stay there forever.
***
Chapter Thirteen
Christmas came and went. Each day merged into the next – I existed on glorious bursts of inspiration and nights of immense gratification as I painted and wrote and finally finished my manuscript.
I sat back in my chair, exhilarated, looking at the neat pile of paper before me - perhaps it was New Year’
s Day or perhaps it was the day after, but I did not care. I could now, happily, post my manuscript to the publisher and he could get on and do whatever he chose to do with it.
I knew it was some of my best work. How could it fail not to be?
I looked across at Ceit, who was curled up in Bella’s chair, watching the morning light shift and change through the windows as the clouds moved across the sky. Ceit never looked bored or annoyed or as if she would prefer to be anywhere else except here with me.
I leaned back further in the chair so I was just within her line of sight and it had the desired effect. She jumped, startled and then smiled.
‘It’s finished,’ I said, indicating the pile of papers. ‘Can you believe it?’
She clambered out of the chair and ran, barefoot to me. Today, she was clad in peacock blue. I had become used to seeing her in the outdated clothing – it seemed natural now, as if the real world, the here and now had ceased to exist and we two were cast in amber, a little bubble of past values in a changing world.
She picked up the pile of paper and flicked through it. Her eyes roved across it, and I wondered if she was picking out the odd word that might seem wrong or inappropriate and I began to grow hot and flustered. I doubted myself. ‘Give it back,’ I snapped finally, holding my hand out. ‘I was wrong. It’s not complete. Not at all. It’s terrible, I’m going to burn it, I’m going to—’
With one hand, she lifted the pile of papers high out of my reach and pressed her other forefinger to my mouth. There was a shift in her eye that I had not seen before. It was like one of the clouds shutting out the sun. I noticed for the first time how her cheeks were less hollow and she had a little dimple in her cheek that just promised to break out when she smiled. Her eyes were brighter, the shadows under them long-gone, and her hair was glossier. Her skin was tinted with a healthy pink and I blinked. Howard House and my company did seem to be bringing out the best in her.
She was still slim and dainty, but she had developed softer edges now, curves that made her walk sensuously and drew my eye to her glorious figure.
The doubts about my work melted away and her eyes sparked back to normal. She moved her forefinger, but, still watching me and still holding the manuscript up high, she backed away to the bureau where we kept the stationery and felt around behind her for some string.
Satisfied I was not going to take the papers from her and hurl them into the fire, she tied them up in the string and tied a neat bow on the top. Then she rummaged for some brown paper, wrapped the bundle in that, and tied up more string.
Only when everything was secure, did she return to me with the parcel. She placed it in front of me and handed me a pen.
Write his address. Now.
The message was quite clear. My heart pounding, not knowing exactly what I was doing, I wrote the publisher’s address on it.
Good.
Ceit took the parcel away and placed a fresh sheet of paper before me, putting the pen on top.
You can start the next one, Charles. It’s best to.
‘Ceit!’ I could not quite comprehend it, yet I understood her perfectly. ‘This one needs to be posted first. I don’t know what to write, I—’
She narrowed her eyes, pushed her face right up into mine and I experienced, for the briefest second, a flicker of fear.
You have to Charles. If you want me to stay.
‘Ceit!’
Do you? Do you want me to stay?
I honestly felt as if she was shouting at me, yet not a murmur had passed her lips.
‘Of course I want you to stay!’ I cried. She brandished the pen at me and automatically I reached up to take it from her. I was horrified to see that my hands were shaking a little. Even more horrified to see that they looked like the hands of an old man – wizened and paper-thin and mapped with prominent veins. ‘Of course I want you to stay,’ I repeated, more quietly.
Then write.
I obeyed. I marked the paper. Chapter One. Yet I had no thought of what to write.
Ceit seemed to relax when she saw me marking the paper, and she laid my manuscript down on her chair.
Make a start, Charles, I heard, somehow, in my mind. When you’ve begun it, we can post this one. And remember, Charles, stop in the middle of a sentence. Then you can continue afresh.
There was the sound of what might have been a tinkling laugh, or it might have been a spatter of hailstones or rain against the glass, disgorged by the clouds.
All I know, is that when I looked up again, Ceit had disappeared, the fire was dying and the paper still had Chapter One written on the top of it.
‘It’s impossible,’ I muttered. I laid my head down on the blank paper and closed my eyes. ‘I can’t just start again. Perhaps if I sleep…’
I don’t think I had time to doze off. I heard the door click and raised my head. Blearily, I saw Ceit standing in the doorway. She looked so sweet and repentant; I sat up and stared at her. She wore a hooded cloak and clutched my manuscript to her heart.
A little touch of her fist to her chest, a small circle described.
I’m sorry. Forgive me?
My heart melted.
‘Of course,’ I said. ‘I know you’re only thinking of what is best for me. I’ve never had anyone do that for me before and it’s quite an odd feeling.’ I stood up, wobbling slightly as a wave of tiredness swept over me. ‘I’m not sure how to react, so perhaps I should apologise to you.’
I shook myself and held my hands out to her. She hurried over and laid her head against my chest.
‘Let’s go to the village,’ I told the top of her head. ‘I need to wake up a little. We’ll post the manuscript, and then come back and I can start the new one. How does that sound?’
She didn’t make a move or acknowledge my words, of course; just stayed as she was, nestled into me.
I didn’t mind. I knew she would come to the village with me, I knew we would post the manuscript; and, above all, as I held her, my imagination sparked again. I also knew, therefore, that when we returned, I could, indeed begin my new novel.
***
Chapter Fourteen
It was early January, and even if I had been holed up in Howard House for months then set free again, I would have known it was early January in the Highlands.
There was a particular smell to the world, a dankness laced with the clean air sweeping down from the mountains and in from the sea. Come August, the heather would be blooming on the hillsides and I would take Ceit to the top of the mountain so we could look at the purple patchwork below us.
Today, though, our trip was much more practical. I had located the Groom in the stables, working in the small saddlery beside a roaring fire, polishing brass and chewing tobacco. I ordered him to ready me the landau.
‘Would ye wish me to drive into Tarbert, Sir?’ he asked, rolling the ‘r’s in a typical Scottish fashion.
‘No,’ I replied. ‘I can manage. Just have it at the front of the house as soon as possible please. There is no need to wait for me. You may take your leave once you have delivered it.’
‘Aye, Sir,’ he replied and bowed a little. Had he been wearing a cap, I feel sure he would have doffed it. ‘Excuse me for asking, Sir,’ he continued when he stood up, ‘but are ye quite well? There’s a look to ye, see, that isn’t right.’ The man frowned and studied me.
‘I’m perfectly well,’ I snapped. ‘I’ve been working hard and I haven’t had much of a chance to take a break. Today I am getting some fresh air and it will see me right.’
‘Very well, Sir,’ replied the Groom. He excused himself and began lifting harnesses from the wall of the room.
I turned and stalked out of the saddlery. Really! How dare he!
I caught sight of an ageing man glaring at me as I walked towards the door. His hair was long and unkempt; his cheeks as hollow as Ceit’s were rounded. His eyes were haunted and shadowed. I started, ready to challenge the man, wondering what right he had to be in my stables.
/> I realised I was looking at a small shaving mirror the Groom had suspended from the wall.
I ducked my head and hurried past.
***
The thoughts of my own visual decline scattered as soon as I saw Ceit waiting for me upon my return to the house. She was in the hallway, unwinding greenery from the staircase and taking it from the family portraits which still stared at me, disapproving as always
Ceit welcomed me with a smile and I waved at her. ‘Oh so it’s that time already?’ I asked, as I saw the piles of greenery discarded around the hallway. ‘Twelfth night?’
Ceit nodded and continued figuratively disrobing the ancestors.
‘I had realised we were beyond Christmas and New Year,’ I said thoughtfully, ‘but I did not quite realise how far into the year we were. Anyway, I have ordered the landau and you will travel like a Lady. Tell me, have you ever been to Tarbert Castle? And if so, what did you make of it?’
Ceit looked at me oddly and laughed, shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders. Of course she couldn’t tell me. I felt myself flush. It was so easy to forget she had no voice when we cried out each other’s names in my dreams. However, the realisation anew just made me more protective of her and I caught her around the waist, pulling her towards me.
I brushed the hair away from her face and drowned in her eyes, just a little more. I tucked a strand of black silk behind her ear and shook my head, feeling pained for her. ‘Oh Ceit, my Ceit,’ I whispered. ‘Do you hear me with your heart, I wonder? How difficult it must have been for you. No matter. You are with me now, and I shall be everything to you that you need.’
She reached up and brushed my hair from my face, mirroring my actions. So sweet, so loving. She smelt of pine and woodsmoke. I could almost forget how terrifying she had seemed in the drawing room earlier. I looked outside and saw the carriage drawing up.
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