Groping behind her for the door handle. When her fingers closed around it, she turned the handle, tugging it forcefully but nothing happened. Panic began to take over as the door remained firmly closed. She tugged again and again, tears threatening. The shadows surged forward, thick and dark, striking out at her like a serpent.
It was instinct more than anything that prompted Kit to grab the Onyx stone around her neck and lift it up. The shadow creature didn’t retreat. It turned in itself until it vanished, leaving her staring into nothing more than a dimly lit corner devoid of any threat. Terrified, Kit grappled behind her for the door handle once more. It gave instantly beneath her hand and she tumbled out into the hallway. Rubbing her bruised hip with one hand, she slammed the bedroom door with the other, putting at least one barrier between herself and whatever was in that room.
Struggling to her feet, Kit secured Malcolm’s dressing gown more tightly about her and made her way toward the stairs. It was dark, but the atmosphere in the corridor was quite different from that inside the bedchamber. It lacked the heavy and oppressive feeling. Taking a deep shuddering breath as she reached the stairs without incident, Kit grasped the excess fabric of the dressing gown and carefully made her way down to the main floor. By the time she reached the bottom of the stairs, she was shivering with the cold, but returning to their chamber alone, if at all, was not an option.
As she neared the kitchen, she could hear the faint sounds of movement from within. Opening the door, she found Malcolm there slicing ham and adding it to the plate of cheese and bread he’d already prepared. He looked up at her in surprise.
“What are you doing down here?” he asked with a frown.
“Escaping the same thing that sent you running from our chamber like a scalded dog,” she said softly.
He stopped and looked up at her sharply. “You saw it?”
“I saw something dark and indistinct… but I felt it. I felt threatened. And then, when I tried to leave the room—.” She stopped abruptly, uncertain of how to even explain what had happened.
“Tell me,” he urged.
“It came at me…those shadows lifted themselves away from the wall like a living thing and struck out at me. Had it not been for the talisman that Nan gave me, I cannot say what would have happened.”
“The talisman?”
She lifted the small black onyx stone which felt surprisingly warm in her hand. “She said it would protect me, and that I should never remove it. So, I held it up and it…the shadows… just vanished before my eyes. Afterward, when I tried the door, it opened and so I left,” she admitted.
He sighed. “I shouldn’t have left you there alone, but I didn’t think it would—well, I didn’t think it would focus on you.”
“It,” she said softly. “The one apparition is clearly that of a woman. Yet this thing, we only refer to as it. There’s no sense of gender, no sense of any sort of human connection at all. So what is it?”
“Evil is my best guess,” he answered. “My grandfather trapped furs in New York and had friends amongst the Mohican Indian tribe. They told stories about a creature—a demon. Dark, destructive, possessive. Those who maintained the old beliefs called it Atlantow, but those who’d adopted the Christian faith called it the devil. Regardless, the way they described both is quite similar to what I think is residing in this house.”
“The devil?” she asked.
“What else would you call it?” he demanded.
With no response to that, Kit closed her mouth. “If it is the devil, then what do we do about it?”
He grimaced. “Our local vicar will not be a help that much is certain. But there is a Catholic church in Birmingham. Perhaps they have a priest who could be persuaded to offer his assistance?”
Kit gaped at him in shock. “Catholics? You cannot be serious!”
He shrugged and returned to his task of preparing a simple repast for them. “I’m sorry, but if the Church of England won’t help us, then perhaps the Roman Church will. If that offends your Anglican sensibilities, I’m sorry.”
It didn’t offend her, but it was quite shocking to consider. Reaching out to the Roman Church was just something that she would never have considered. “Perhaps Nan will have more information to share. I can’t help but think this must be connected in some way to the previous Lord Hadley. And there must be some reason why your grandfather left here and never once spoke to you of your remaining relatives.”
Malcolm shrugged. He’d always had the sense from his grandfather that his life in England was something he did not ever wish to speak of at all. Perhaps he now knew why.
He nodded. “We will consult with Nan and see what she knows of the history here and what she can do to combat whatever has taken up residence within these walls. In the meantime, do you wish to return upstairs?”
“Do we have another option?”
“There’s the library and a rather plush rug before the hearth,” he offered.
At that point, she’d have gladly slept outside in the snow. “If it’s just the same to you, I’d prefer not to return upstairs until the bright light of day.”
Chapter 18
It had been two days since they’d both run from their chamber in the dark of night. For two nights, they’d slept in his study on a pallet of thick blankets on the floor. Crossing to the window, Kit looked out over the grounds. The snow remained, though it was beginning to melt and turning a dingy brown in the process.
The roads were barely passable still, and they were stuck with no more information than they’d had to begin with. Nan had not yet arrived and their trip to Birmingham to consult with a priest was delayed indefinitely. Whatever was occurring within the walls of Rosedale Hall was weighing heavily on all of them, but especially on her husband. While he was both passionate and attentive at night, during the day, he had become distant, cold even.
A noise from behind her caught her attention. Kit looked back to see Joseph sitting at the table, kicking the legs of the chair he sat in and staring into space rather than reading the book before him.
“Joseph,” she admonished softly. “Once you’ve finished your reading, you can play! Don’t dawdle so.”
“I don’t want to read this! It’s boring,” he protested.
Undoubtedly, it was boring. She was not a tutor and he needed much more instruction than she was capable of providing. But until one could be obtained or until he could be enrolled in school, reading books under her supervision was the best they could do. “Four pages, Joseph, and then you may go.”
“Where? I can’t play outside. I can’t play inside unless it’s down here and everyone yells at me not to make noise, not to run, not to do this or that or anything else!”
At seven years old, running and mucking about were the best parts of life and he was being denied all of them. “If you finish your reading, I’ll put on my boots and we’ll walk out to the stables where you can see the horses. Fair enough?”
“He’s out there,” Joseph said with a sneer that perfectly revealed his disdain for her husband.
“Yes, and so are the horses, and there might be a cat or dog or two. Do not cut off your nose to spite your face, Joseph. You wanted to get out of the house and I’m offering to take you,” she chided softly. “Why do you dislike him so?”
“We’re no better off here than we were at Cousin Patrice’s! We’ll just be servants in this house same as we were in hers!”
Kit sighed and leaned back against the window sill. “Servants have been hired, Joseph, but the weather has prevented them from arriving on time… I’m sure they will be here in a matter of days. In the meantime, we will continue to fend for ourselves… and while I don’t expect you to work in the stables as you did at Patrice’s, it would be the right and honorable thing to do to offer your assistance to Lord Hadley!”
“Fine,” he said, and slammed the book closed with such force that it bounced off the table and onto the rug.
“Pick that up, Joseph, and
stop behaving like such a—.” Kit stopped herself from saying something hurtful, but only just. Between the lack of sleep, being constantly on edge, and being trapped in a house that made her feel threatened at every turn, her temper was short and so was his. He was only a boy and he’d been cooped up for days.
He rose from his chair and picked the book up from the floor, placing it on the table. He looked contrite and a little ashamed and so completely precious to her that Kit simply caved in. “Go get your coat,” she said. “We’ll go to the stables now and finish your reading after, but you’re not getting out of it! Do you understand?”
He nodded eagerly. “Yes! Thank you, Kit!”
He rushed forward and hugged her tightly and Kit hugged him back, grateful for the contact, for the comfort it offered. It was something she had been missing with all the upheaval in her life.
Heading upstairs to get her own cloak, or rather the borrowed one that Malcolm had bestowed upon her, Kit felt a frisson of fear. She hadn’t been upstairs alone since her wedding night and she was petrified of a repeat performance from whatever being had taken up residence there.
As she reached the upper landing, Kit squared her shoulders and took a deep, calming breath. She could do this. Yes, it was frightening, but she wasn’t without resolve.
Taking the first step down the long corridor toward their abandoned bedchamber, her knees trembled. But still she forged ahead. Every sound, and in a house as old and in such ill repair as Rosedale Hall there were many, set her heart to thundering. Nervously, she glanced over her shoulder. Naturally, there was nothing behind her, but it did nothing to stave off the overwhelming sensation of being watched.
“There is nothing to fear,” she whispered aloud. Slightly louder, and with far more bravado than she actually felt, she said it again. “There is nothing to fear!”
Down the hall, a door slammed forcefully. Kit lifted her hand, closed it over the onyx amulet that Nan had gifted her and reminded herself that she had something that afforded her protection.
Another door slammed at the far end of the hall. But it was the door creaking open behind her that left her shaking. How could it be in two places at once?
“I’m not afraid of you,” she called out, her voice echoing down the corridor.
Run.
The word was a whisper in her mind, but it was not her own. It was a voice she did not recognize, and yet she trusted it completely. Whoever or whatever had spoken to her was giving her sound advice. Kit started to look over her shoulder, but instinct, or perhaps the guidance of whatever unseen spirit was communicating with her, prompted her to quickly change course. Instead of looking back, she ran ahead, hoping against hope to make it to the servants’ stairs at the end of the corridor and escape to the kitchen. For whatever reason, the worst of the activity seemed to be limited to the upstairs of the house.
As she ran, her slippered feet connecting painfully with the stone floors, she could feel something behind her. It grew closer, and then fell back, but she recognized the game of cat and mouse for what it was. It was simply toying with her.
Kit had passed their bedchamber door, passed the chamber she’d stayed in her first night in the house. As she neared the doorway to the servants’ staircase, hope flared inside her. But it was short lived. She felt the shove as surely as if a person had placed their hands in the middle of her back and pushed. Her skin burned there where she’d been touched by it.
Tumbling forward, the heels of her hands scraped against the stone. Even though the fabric of her dress, she could feel the hard stone biting into her knees. As she landed fully, the breath was knocked out of her and the cord at her neck snapped. She watched helplessly as the onyx talisman bounced away.
She felt the weight then, the heaviness of it pressing down on her, robbing her of breath. Gasping for air, she managed to roll onto her back, but she could see nothing but blackness, growing until it became absolute.
Malcolm was outside, stacking more firewood. They seemed to be going through it at an alarming rate. The sound of a small cart careening up the drive brought him up short. He peered into the distance until he could make out the small farm cart being driven by one of the young men he’s seen at Nan Webb’s cottage. The old woman was clinging to the seat, and for the young man to be driving so recklessly, she must have told him to do so.
Katherine. Fear gripped him suddenly, its icy cold finger curling around his gut. Dropping the armload of wood he’d been stacking, Malcolm ran for the house and found Joseph in the hall.
“Where is your sister?” he demanded.
“She went upstairs to get her cloak,” the boy answered.
Malcolm dashed past him, unthinking of what might be laying in wait for him. As he neared the top of the stairs, he heard a strangled cry and immediately ran towards it. He could see Katherine lying on the floor, her face pale and her body completely lax.
As he reached her, her eyes opened, but it wasn’t Kit who looked back at him. It was something else. The eyes were black as pitch, no white visible, and so deep that he feared falling into them.
“You belong with us.”
It was her lips that formed the words, but it was not her voice that escaped them. Seeing the piece of onyx on the floor only a few feet from her, he snatched it up and pressed it to her skin. She let out a scream unlike anything he’d ever heard. Her body arched upward from the stone floor and a black mist seemed to pull itself from her body, rising toward the rafters and disappearing within them.
Immediately, she collapsed again, her body falling to the floor and curling in on itself like an infant. She shivered violently. Still holding the onyx amulet, Malcolm scooped her up in his arms and carried her toward the stairs. He was afraid to look behind him, and terrified to look at her. If it wasn’t his Katherine in his arms, he didn’t know what he would do.
As he neared the bottom of the stairs, there was a commotion near the front door as Nan Webb entered. Her young grandson followed her in, carrying a large wooden crate.
“Oh, I was so afraid I’d be too late,” Nan said on a heavy sigh of relief.
“You very nearly were,” Malcolm replied. “I do not possess the ability to put into words what I have just seen.”
Nan stepped forward and placed her hand over his where it curved over Katherine’s back. “You will not have to,” she said softly.
After a moment, the elderly woman staggered backward, her face pale and her hand clutching her chest. “It is far worse than I initially feared,” she whispered. “This dark spirit has never made itself known on this level of the house, has it?”
“No,” Malcolm replied. “We’ve been staying down here at night for precisely that reason.”
Nan nodded. “It cannot cross the boundary… these stones that comprise the original part of the house were part of an abbey. Holy. That is why it cannot breach these rooms!”
It was as likely an explanation as any. Malcolm moved toward the library as Katherine began to stir in his arms. Lytton had taken Joseph to the kitchens but Vera stood there, wringing her hands and appearing terrified.
“We should not have come to this place,” she said tearfully.
Malcolm didn’t disagree. “I very much fear you are correct.” He walked into the library and placed Katherine’s still limp form on one of the sofas there. “I vowed that I would protect her and I have failed at that task miserably.”
“̓Twas foolish of her to go upstairs alone,” the maid said, her tone less than gentle. “She knew what waited up there!”
“Vera Webb, you will remember yourself!” Nan admonished her. “Go and help young William with my case. I’ll need my herbs in here!”
Malcolm said nothing further on the subject because Katherine had awoken. She sat bolt upright on the sofa, a scream escaping her.
“You’re safe now,” he said softly and closed his arms about her. She struggled against him, but he held her there, stroking her shoulders and back gently until she calmed. “It can
not hurt you down here. You’re safe.”
“It was inside my mind,” she whispered brokenly. “I could see you, I could hear you calling me, but it wouldn’t let me answer you… and then it… used me to speak to you.”
“I know,” he said. “It’s over now. It’s over and neither of us will go upstairs alone again… no one in this house will go up there alone.”
Nan moved toward them and took the talisman that was still clutched in his hand. “It broke the charm I put on this… but I’ll make it stronger next time. I’ll use a more powerful binding agent so that it never comes off again until you take it off.”
“What is it?” Katherine demanded.
The room grew silent, all eyes turned to Nan Webb as they waited for the answers that it seemed only she possessed.
Chapter 19
The old woman, when she spoke, did so softly and in the same tone that storytellers had used for millennia, like an ancient high priestess. “I call it a dark spirit, but in truth, it has no name. It existed long before names did, certainly before Christians did. I heard tales of it as a child from my mother, just as she’d heard tales of it from her own. I never taught Vera or her mother because I believed that with the last of the Hadleys gone from this place, there would never be a need.”
“The Hadleys?” Kit asked. “So it is tied to the family, then?”
“Oh, yes. They did not call it into being, but they have imbued it with more and more power over the centuries as they have cavorted with it, keeping it bound to them like a pet, like a familiar! But nothing will corrupt the way that power does and soon they were at each other’s throats… this family has turned on one another, murdered and feuded, schemed and lied to one another. In my grandmother’s time, one brother sent all of his siblings to the pyre, saw them all burned as witches when he himself was the one doing the darkest of spells!”
A Heart So Wicked (The Dark Regency Series Book 6) Page 14