“Hey, are you okay?” He sat down next to her on the bed, his laughter turning into concern. “I really didn’t think you would care, but you’re right, it was stupid of me.”
“Where did you find it?”
“It was in the old fireplace in the kitchen. I found it when I was making breakfast. I’ve heard stories about kids breaking in here to conduct séances and other nonsense. People really are stupid about these things.” Ursula had been on the verge of telling him about her painting and what she’d discovered at the library, but his last words turned her off. She didn’t need any more ridicule from him right now when she was still trying to come to make sense of it all. She decided to wait till Bonnie arrived because she would take her concerns seriously.
“I’m not feeling that well myself right now, so I think I’ll have a lie down too,” she said, hoping Damien would leave her alone for a while. He put his hand to her forehead.
“Hmmm. You could be a bit warm. It would be a good idea for the doctor to have a look at you when he arrives. The last thing we need is for you to come down with the bug.” The feel of his skin against hers was very nice but it wasn’t enough to distract her from her worries.
“I was thinking that myself, but right now I just want some rest.”
She’d only just closed her eyes when she heard a car approaching up the drive. She listened as Damien went downstairs to greet their visitor, and a few minutes later there was a knock at her door.
“Come in,” she said, sitting up and running her hand through her hair. To her disappointment it was Doctor Matthews and not Bonnie who pushed open the door. Damien was right behind him.
“I hear you’re not feeling too well today, young lady, unlike you’re friend here whose recovery is nothing short of miraculous.” Ursula just smiled in response. “I guess I’ll start by taking your temperature and then we’ll decide what to do from there.” Damien left the room while the doctor fished around in his leather bag and then took out a thermometer which he placed in her ear. She studied his face as he pulled it out and examined it.
“Well, you definitely don’t have a fever. It’s perfectly normal.” She felt a stab of disappointment. At least if she was sick there would be an excuse for the strange events, but now she had to consider the other possibility that it was something in the house affecting her. “I’d say it’s just the stress of the past day that’s making you feel unwell. My suggestion is for you to take it nice and easy today, and tomorrow you should be right as rain.”
“Thanks, doctor,” said Ursula, smiling weakly as he closed his bag and said goodbye. He spent a short time in Damien’s room before Ursula heard Damien show him to the door. Bonnie had said she’d be there early, and as the doctor drove away Ursula picked up her phone to call her. She found her number and was just about to press the call button when Damien knocked and stuck his head around the door.
“I’m very glad to hear you’re not sick. I don’t think I could have forgiven myself if I ruined your holiday.”
“It wouldn’t have been your fault. I was just about to ring Bonnie. She said she was coming over this morning, and she should be here by now.”
“Oh, Bonnie’s not coming.”
“Why not?”
“I texted her before you got up and told her there was no need. I’m all better now and she’s got more important things to do than look after me.”
“Oh.” Ursula tried to hide her disappointment. She really needed someone to talk to and Bonnie was the only one who would understand. Her intuition was telling her to just pack her bags and get the hell out of there, but she wanted to talk it over with her friend first. Having nowhere to go and no money didn’t help either, but she also couldn’t deny that one of the reasons she was hesitating to follow her instincts was Damien. If she left they’d probably never see each other again, and she didn’t want to lose the only chance she had of getting to know him better.
“Don’t look so despondent. I’m not that boring, am I? I’m sure I can entertain you just as well as Bonnie.”
“I just wanted to talk to her about something.”
“How about we go for a walk on the beach? It’s stopped raining and it will do you good to get some fresh air.”
“Didn’t the doctor tell you to rest?”
“Not really, he said he could find nothing wrong with me and I could do whatever I felt up to.”
“Alright,” said Ursula, without much enthusiasm. It might do her good to get outside for a while and forget about the house, and she still hadn’t been down onto the beach. “I’ll just get changed.”
“Okay, see you in ten minutes.” She saw the Ouija board still on the floor as she sat down to put on her running shoes.
“Damien,” she called. “Can you please throw this thing away? I don’t want it in the house.” When he appeared in the doorway she kicked the Ouija board across the room to him.
“No problem, but don’t you want to ask it a few questions first?” He ducked as she threw the rolled up pair of sock she’d been about to put on straight at his head.
****
As soon as she felt the breeze in hair and the fresh air in her lungs, Ursula felt better. It was overcast, but not as cold as it had been, and she was glad she’d dressed lightly. The view was lovely, and they paused at the top of the cliff to admire it when Ursula noticed a plaque hidden beneath some weeds and grass. She knelt down to brush them away so she could read it.
In Memory of Anna Stanton (nee Williams)
1829 - 1852
“This must be where she fell from.” Ursula had a sudden clear mental picture of the woman she had sketched flying through the air, her mouth open in a silent scream. “You’d think they would have put a fence or something up here by now.” There was nothing to mark the edge of the cliff, the ground just suddenly gave way to a steep drop, and it would be easy to accidentally plunge over the edge.
“Yes, it is dangerous. Let’s go before the rain sets in again.”
The path down to the beach was overgrown and very steep in places. It was clear no one had used it for a while, and Ursula was glad she hadn’t attempted it on her own. Damien offered her his hand a couple of times, and she was thrilled to have a chance to touch him again. She noticed that his eyes were the same blue-grey colour as the sky, and she liked the way they crinkled up at the corners when he smiled. The lines gave him an air of wisdom and experience which she found very sexy. Just being with him outside the house was helping her to relax, and with the ocean stretching in front of them, and Colton Manor behind them, it seemed ridiculous to believe in ghosts and curses from the past.
When they finally emerged onto the beach Ursula saw that it was sheltered by cliffs on one side and high, jagged rocks on the other. It was completely private, and if the sun ever came out from behind the clouds it would be a wonderful place to sketch and swim. Although a bit bleak at the moment it was at least it was sheltered. For the next hour she and Damien amused themselves by exploring the rock pools and taking their shoes off to wade in the surf. By the time they sank down on the sand to rest Ursula was feeling much more clear-headed. The house was almost invisible from where they were, and the shadow it cast over her didn’t reach this far.
“Are you ready to go back now?” asked Damien, after they had sat in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts while seabirds wheeled around them.
“Can’t we just stay down here for a little longer? I really don’t feel like going back just yet.”
Damien took a closer look at her. “You’re still worried about ghosts aren’t you? I thought you would have realised by now what a load of rubbish those stories are.” Ursula bit her lip and didn’t reply. “That’s it, isn’t it? I’m still upset with Bonnie for telling you those stories.”
“I thought I was over it but something kind of weird happened last night that’s freaked me out a bit.” She took a deep breath. “You have to promise you’re not going to laugh at me if I tell you.”
> “I promise.” He tried to look serious but she could tell he was struggling to keep a straight face as she told him what she’d found out at the library and described the voice outside her door. It wasn’t until she told him about the strange painting with the hands and numbers 666 that his expression became thoughtful.
“And you really don’t remember painting it?”
“No, I swear to God.”
“Normally I’d say you were crazy if you told me something like this, but after what happened to me I know it’s quite possible. Are you sure the doctor said you’re okay?”
“Yes, he said I’m fine.”
He raised his hand to her forehead again and held it there for a moment. This time, though, he didn’t drop it, but moved down to stroke her cheek. “I’m not dismissing you, Ursula, but I really do believe the doctor’s right and it’s just stress.”
“So you seriously think it’s just a coincidence that we’ve both had these strange sleep-walking experiences while living at Colton Manor?” She tried to ignore the tingles racing up and down her spine at his touch.
“Yes.”
“What is the statistical probability of that?”
“Quite low, but not impossible, especially with a high fever involved.”
“Are you really telling me you feel nothing sinister at all in that house?”
“Nothing at all, and neither do you. You’re just letting your imagination run away with you but I guess that comes with the territory when you’re an artist.”
“I suppose you scientific types never have this problem, considering you have no imagination at all.”
“I wouldn’t go that far, but we don’t let ourselves get carried away without evidence.”
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you that there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy, Damien?”
“Don’t throw Shakespeare at me, young lady, or you may live to regret it.” Ursula smiled but then became sombre again.
“Every instinct I have is telling me to get away from here. I feel like something terrible will happen if I ignore these warnings.”
“Seriously, Ursula, you can’t let silly superstitions ruin your summer holiday. When will you ever get the chance to stay somewhere like this again for almost nothing? For over a month it’s all ours. Do you really want to throw that away?”
From the way he was looking at her Ursula could tell he had more on his mind than just the house. He had touched her so tenderly just a few moments ago that she wasn’t at all surprised when he lifted his hand again and began stroking her hair.
“I promise I’ll protect you from whatever lurks in Colton Manor. You have my word.” Last time he said this he’d been making fun of her, but now he seemed genuine, and as she gazed deeply into his eyes, Ursula knew she could trust him.
When he pulled her towards him and kissed her very gently on the mouth her whole body responded. Even though they’d known each other a short time, it felt so right, and she couldn’t deny that this is what she’d wanted almost from the first moment she’d laid eyes on him. The attraction between them was magnetic and it seemed inevitable that they would have a holiday fling while living in such close proximity to each other.
It began to sprinkle softly as they kissed, and it felt like they were in a world of their own. It was so romantic with the sound of the ocean and seabirds in the background, and the misty rain all around them. The drops in Damien’s hair sparkled like jewels, but before long the rain grew heavier and they couldn’t ignore it anymore.
“We’re going to get completely drenched if we stay here,” said Ursula with regret.
“Come on, let’s go.” Damien stood and pulled her to her feet, and they made their way up the steep path to the house. By the time they got inside they were soaked right through and laughing breathlessly. “We’d better get out of these clothes or we’ll catch our deaths.”
“That’s the best idea I’ve heard in a long time. Here, let me help you.” She ripped his shirt out of his jeans and began undoing the buttons. She was suddenly feeling very wild and adventurous. Damien didn’t need any more encouragement and he wasted no time returning the favour. His eyes feasted on her body as peeled off each piece of wet clothing, slowly and seductively. When they were both naked he picked her up and carried her into one of the downstairs sitting rooms.
On the floor was a thick sheep skin rug and as he lowered her onto it Ursula luxuriated in the feel of it against her back. Damien kissed her all over, and then he was on top of her, his muscular arms wrapped around her as he eased himself inside her. The rhythm of his body caused her to cry out in ecstasy and the more he gave her the more she wanted. It was very late when they finally climbed the stairs together and fell into Ursula’s bed, exhausted and satisfied. She felt very safe in his arms and she didn’t even think about strange voices in the night or ghosts stalking the corridors of Colton Manor as she drifted away.
Chapter Seven
Strong hands were around her throat, squeezing hard. She could feel each finger, digging into her soft flesh, crushing her windpipe and making it impossible to breathe. She tried to wake herself up from the nightmare, but it was no use. Her lungs burned as she fought for air, her hands flailing about helplessly in the dark. Then she found her attackers face and used her fingernails to draw blood. The pressure eased a little and she took a deep, shuddering breath. As the oxygen rushed to her brain the fog lifted from her eyes and she could see his face clearly in front of her. It was Damien. Damien was the one trying to kill her.
“Oh my God, what are you doing?” she gasped as the horrifying reality dawned on her that this was not a dream.
“Shut up, wench,” he said. “I told you that you couldn’t hide from me forever. Now tell me where my money is.” He let go of her throat and she sat up and scrambled away from him on the bed, but she didn’t get far before he raised his fist and struck her hard enough to knock her onto the wooden floor.
“Damien, please wake up, you’re dreaming again,” she pleaded with him, as he loomed over her. “It’s Ursula, and I know nothing about any money.”
“Liar,” he yelled, seizing her roughly by the hair. “You know where it is and you’re going to tell me if I have to beat it out of you.” He dragged her across the floor to the hall and down the stairs. “Where is my money, Anna?” Through her terror Ursula recognised the name of the woman who had plunged to her death from the cliff one hundred and fifty years earlier. Damien was caught up in some kind of psychosis involving Edward Stanton and his long-dead wife. Seeing the sheer madness in his eyes Ursula knew her best bet was to go along with him and try to somehow bluff her way out of the deadly situation.
“I’m sorry, Edward, I’m so sorry,” she said. Her words seemed to appease him, and he relaxed his grip on her hair slightly. “I will tell you where the money is if you just let me go.”
He stared at her intently. “If this is I trick, you’ll pay, by God, you’ll pay, woman.”
“It’s not a trick, I promise you.”
“Then where is it?” His grip tightened again. Ursula tried to think, but her mind was blank with terror. The only place that came to mind was the cellar, and it was on the tip of her tongue to say this when she realised that it was the last place on earth she wanted to be confined with him. There would be no escape once he had her down there.
“Speak,” he roared in her face.
“It’s in the kitchen,” she said in desperation, before remembering it was the room where one of Edward Stanton’s wives had died violently. Ursula stole a glance at Damien as he pushed her in front of him through the door and down the stairs. He was staring straight ahead, his face set like a mask, and he was barely recognisable as the man she had just made love with hours earlier. She tried frantically to think of a plan to escape or at least arm herself with a weapon, but the best she could come up with was to tell him the money was in the bottom of a cupboard. When he bent down to look she hoped she could grab on
e of the knives from the bench top. The thought of having to use it made her shudder, but she was fighting for her life and had to do whatever it took to protect herself.
“Get it,” he said when they entered the kitchen.
“It’s in there.” She pointed towards the cupboard next to the range.
“Are you deaf as well as daft, I said get it, woman.” He pushed her down onto the floor roughly, and as she opened the door and pretended to look through the cupboard her hand closed around the handle of a large flat frying pan. It was her only chance. He was leaning over her so closely that she didn’t have much room to swing it, but she had to give it a shot.
“I have the money,” she said, hoping he would step back and give her some space, but he remained exactly where he was. Ursula stood up suddenly and swung it at his head as forcefully as she could, but she was not quick enough for him. He caught hold of her wrist and twisted it sharply, causing her to cry out and drop the frying pan with a loud clatter. Her last memory was of his fist striking her on the side of the head with such force that she saw stars. Just as she was falling a woman appeared from nowhere and she reached out as if to catch her, then there was only blackness.
****
Her head was pounding terribly, each beat sending a lightning bolt of pain through her temples. She became conscious of the hard, cold floor beneath her, and as she opened her eyes slowly the terrible events of the night came flooding back. She was still in the kitchen, lying where she had fallen, but now the room was in darkness and Damien was nowhere to be seen. She raised herself cautiously onto her elbow and felt the throbbing spot on her head with her fingers. There was a large lump there, and she felt dizzy and weak, but she had no time to waste. A sound, like someone speaking in a low, monotonous tone, penetrated through the fog in her brain, and it took her a moment to work out that it was coming from the cellar.
As she crawled past the door, she could just see his outline at the bottom of the stairs in the dim, flickering light. He had a candle down there and he was talking to himself although she couldn’t make out any of the words he was saying. She was ready to push the heavy door closed and lock him in, and she swore under her breath when she saw that the key was no longer in the lock.
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