by Jane Jordan
Instantly I felt more cheerful as the sunshine warmed my skin and I began to
walk around the graveyard reading the various inscriptions on the gravestones. They all
seemed very old and many of the surnames were missing.
Have they just worn away or been deliberately removed?
To remove a name from a gravestone seemed such a strange thing to do these days, but I knew how superstitious people had been in the past and perhaps it could have occurred. The fifteenth century churchyard cross stood straight and erect. Although relatively new, it had been mentioned in the old book that I had found in the library and it appeared to stand guard over the whole graveyard. It was roughly eleven feet tall and the plinth on which it stood gave it extra magnificence.
I remembered reading that this area had a numerous leper colony at one time. I found myself wondering just how many of those unfortunate people had been buried here. Or maybe they had never been allowed to be buried in hallowed ground, due to local superstitions of the time. I thought that it certainly would be an interesting piece of research to do as I finished looking at the graves closest to the church.
A little distance away from the main graveyard, four raised sarcophaguses were partly hidden under an old gnarled oak tree that overhung the stone wall. As I approached, I saw that one had more ornate carvings than the others, depicting vines and hunting scenes. I moved closer. Over the years the elements had decayed and weathered their stone surfaces and the moss and lichen had grown profusely over them, making it difficult to define the engravings. I walked slowly around each one, wondering who these long forgotten people were. Maybe wealthy landowners of their time, since their remains lay preserved in more ornate tombs. I studied the one closest to me and my eyes moved downwards.
My breathing became momentarily suspended as I stared in shock at the sight before me. Despite this beautiful warm summer’s day, a cold chill came over me and I was aware of the tiny hairs on my arms and neck standing on end.
A small bunch of honeysuckle and wild rose had been laid on the lowest plinth of the tomb. The flowers were neatly tied with a piece of grass and their petals had begun to wilt, as they had been there for a few hours. It was not the fact that somebody else had visited this graveyard recently, or left flowers on this particular tomb, but what totally caught me off guard and chilled me to the bone was the delicate carved lettering at the base.
Madeline Shaw 1818 - 1860. May She Finally Rest In Peace.
Chapter Six - Supernatural Discernment
Seeing my name carved out in stone was troubling to my mind. Although it was
conceivable that elsewhere in the world there were various tombs with that very name.
Why shouldn’t there be? My name is not that unique. But why here, was it coincidence, or something else?
I stayed beside that tomb for a while, a morbid curiosity taking over my senses.
Who had she been, and why are there flowers on her tomb, when every other grave is bare?
I consoled myself with the thought that I had made this journey, it wasn’t as though I had been lured to this churchyard. Only I had power over my own destiny, no-one else was involved, this was just the strangest of coincidences. I felt calmed by that knowledge.
After that the rest of the afternoon at the graveyard passed quickly. It was getting late when I looked at my watch and thought about the journey back to Ravens Deep. I closed the old iron gate behind me and looked at the path I had used earlier. It really did seem to end at the church, as beyond that the stinging nettles were waist high and I had no intention of wading through them to find out if the path continued again. Instead, I retraced my footsteps back the way I had come and wondered if I would make it back before nightfall.
It did in fact take considerably more time to walk back to Ravens Deep than I had
anticipated. The woodlands had grown cooler and the dappled light through the tree-top
canopy was growing steadily darker. I had to stop to catch my breath several times, although I was used to walking in the city and its parks, I was definitely not used to uphill country hiking. The sun was just setting as the woodlands began to thin out and over the hedgerows in the distance, the stone chimneys of Ravens Deep came into view. I breathed a sigh of relief, I did not want to be in dark unfamiliar woods as night fell.
Within minutes the sun had disappeared, allowing my surroundings to take on a soft diffused glow. As I reached the garden gate, I heard a voice close behind me. Startled, I jumped and spun around to find Darius a few feet from me.
“I did not mean to frighten you,” he began.
“Didn’t’t you say that to me yesterday?” I replied, recovering quickly from my surprise. I smiled, relieved to see it was him, although mildly annoyed that he had again caused me some alarm. I turned towards him and took in his appearance in one casual glance. He looked pale tonight, as if unwell, which was accentuated by the shadows of darkness that had begun to loom all around us.
“Where did you come from? I didn’t’t see you on the path,” I asked indignantly. He stepped closer to me and I was aware of a magnetism that seemed to draw me to him.
“Please forgive me, I always walk up here at this time of night,” he replied evenly, “there is only one path, but I do not wish to intrude on your privacy.” I realized that I had offended him and he had misread my tone.
“No, really you are not . . . in fact, I hoped to see you again.” I said, trying to keep the eagerness out of my voice, but wanting to clear up any earlier misunderstanding.
“I desired to see you again too,” he said softly, “and I did not wish you to have regret at our first encounter yesterday. I realized that may have given you some cause for concern.”
His comments took me aback, I wasn’t sure how to respond, and he was standing so close to me now. His eyes seemed to be playing tricks with my mind, I could hear unspoken words there, and when he did speak, I could feel his eyes belying the other conversation that was happening in my head. He lowered his long dark eyelashes and the spell was broken.
This was madness, it felt as though I were going insane.
I collected my thoughts quickly, focused on questions and tried to distance myself from the part of my mind that had been working to understand this silent dialogue. I certainly had no regret in meeting Darius or seeing him again, in fact quite the opposite, but I pushed these thoughts away.
“Yesterday, I was just a little surprised,” I said warmly, “but I assume you have lived here for a while and so must know of the history of Ravens Deep,” I hesitated for a moment, “I was hoping that you might tell me what you know?” I said meeting his gaze with my own, which only made my pulse quicken once more. I tore my eyes from him and hoped he could not sense my feelings, as I myself found them incomprehensible.
“If it is knowledge that you seek, then I will be happy to tell you what I know,” he
replied and he offered me his arm, indicating that we should go and sit on the stone bench. His words and the gesture surprised me, his manner seemed so charming and intriguing. I did need to sit down somewhere as my legs felt weak, from seeing Darius again? Or more realistically from the long walk. I hesitantly looked at him. I should be resisting an emotional involvement, especially with someone I hardly knew. But I didn’t want to resist, I wanted to get to know him much better. I smiled and graciously took his arm. We walked to the stone bench and sat down. I was feeling intoxicated by his nearness and inexplicably I was lost for words. Undaunted by my silence, Darius turned to me.
“What precisely do you want to know?”
I made myself focus on his words rather than my feelings. I slowly related brief details of the chain of events that had led me to Ravens Deep, and how I had found the book with the pages missing and my curious encounter with Samuel Dunklin.
“Did you tell this Samuel Dunklin where you were staying?” Darius asked pointedly, interrupting me. I stared at him, taken back by a subtle change in his manner
, even though his composure was unchanged, I sensed disapproval in his tone.
“Yes, why is that a problem?”
“You should not reveal any information about yourself or where you are staying,” he replied quickly. I watched him closely, feeling mystified and a little troubled by his words.
“Why? I have a legitimate reason for being here. Or is there something else?” Darius did not speak. I thought for a moment, a suspicion hovering in my mind. “Did something bad happen here?”
“In these parts there is still a lot of superstition, people view strangers with suspicion.” He said, evading my question. “There are many stories and legends that the locals still believe in.” I was confused by his words and wanted to delve into exactly what he meant by legends, but there was an underlying feeling emanating from him and words danced through my mind.
“Don’t ask. You don’t need to know this.”
Darius appeared somewhat distracted, and I mindful of this strange feeling, thought it unwise to continue with my earlier conversation. Perhaps he was a bit reclusive and didn’t’t want anybody around him -- even me. My thoughts came back to his earlier words and how he had desired to see me again, but I was greatly irritated by his previous comment.
“What about you?” I challenged. “Maybe I shouldn’t tell you anything either,” I said giving him questioning look. Darius narrowed his eyes fractionally, but then there was a hint of a smile on his lips.
“You are very direct, Madeline,” he said amused, “but I am not superstitious, and you can tell me anything,”
“Being direct is not a fault,” I said defensively. “I think if you have something to say then it should be said. I don’t play games with people.” His eyes fixed firmly on mine.
“I can see that,” he replied, and I am not being critical, but it pays to be cautious.”
His words made sense, perhaps he was just being protective, after all a girl alone in a remote place should not advertise that fact. But Samuel Dunklin hardly seemed to pose any threat to me. We sat quietly for a few minutes more and then I turned my attention back to the earlier conversation and mentioned that I had been to the church. I described how shocked I had been at seeing my own name carved on a tomb.
“It really disturbed me,” I said. “Just seeing my own name written in stone was not an experience good for the soul.” I laughed attempting to make light of the subject matter, but I felt deep down that I shouldn’t’t be. Darius had sat in silence throughout my conversation, his composure unwavering. Then I noticed a smile playing around the corners of his mouth before he decided to speak.
“Madeline Shaw was an occupant of this house at one time, it is not strange that she is buried in the local cemetery.” The impact of his words shocked me.
“You mean she actually lived here. . . in Ravens Deep?”
“Yes,” he answered, watching me intently. “And you are as hauntingly beautiful as she was.” I stared at him, bewildered. Any other time I would have been ecstatic at the compliment, but instead I was truly alarmed. I felt sick in my stomach and my mind was in utter confusion when I spoke.
“What do you mean? Madeline Shaw died in 1860. How do you know what she looked like?” I could feel my voice wavering.
“Madeline, you should not torment yourself,” Darius answered casually. “I have seen many old paintings, that is all I meant, but you do look like her.” The uneasiness slowly subsided as it gave way to understanding.
“You mean the girl in the white dress, the portrait?” I asked, remembering the portrait on the bedroom wall.
“There were many paintings of her,” he said simply.
“Do you suppose she is related to me? It cannot be just a coincidence that I look like her, have her name, and now I too live at Ravens Deep?” Darius was staring out across the moors, he seemed lost in thought.
“Just a coincidence,” he said at last. A sudden thought struck me.
“Did she die in this house?” Darius looked visibly shaken for a fleeting second, but just as quickly the look was gone, and he turned back to me.
“Maybe there is a connection. Is this important to you?”
“I am a more than a little curious,” I confessed, “and it would explain a couple of things that have happened in the house.”
“What has happened?” There was definite interest in his vivid eyes, but his look was unreadable as I told the story of the mouse and the pantry door. It sounded comical when I related it and seemed impossible that I had been so terrified, and how ridiculous I must have looked with my candlestick, but then with a shiver I told him of the presence I felt in the bedroom.
“With today’s revelations, I have been wondering if the first Madeline Shaw still
inhabits this house.”
“Do you think the presence will hurt you?” he asked, watching me closely. I thought for a moment.
“No I don't. I don’t think it will hurt me. Maybe it’s more a fear of the unknown that scares me.” I looked at him directly. “Is there a ghost?” Darius turned towards me.
“Madeline, it will not harm you. Now that you are here, I will be forever watchful for your safety.” I refused to be put off that easily.
“But you do know something,” I began. He was a little bemused, but then he sighed. “You are very perceptive and I don’t want you to be frightened. You should remember that most occurrences can be explained,” he remarked, but obviously had resigned himself to tell me something. His look was thoughtful.
“This house is much older than you think. It was once the site of an ancient Roman building. The main living area dates back some nine hundred years or so. Other parts were added throughout the centuries. It was also much bigger than what you see here today, a fire destroyed a great portion of it and only about half of the original structure remains. Ravens Deep has been in the same family for the last four hundred years.”
“The Chambers family,” I said excitedly.
“Yes,” he agreed, suddenly hesitant. He continued cautiously so that I got the distinct impression he was choosing his words carefully. “Chambers was not always the name that is only a modern adaptation. The family name started out as Chamberlayne, and down through the centuries it got misspelled, in time it became Chambers. Madeline Shaw did die here, but so did many other people. Ravens Deep has a long and colourful history.” I visibly shivered, not from Darius’s words, but because nightfall had come. We were sitting wrapped in a shroud of darkness, and the stone bench on which we sat was slowly draining all the heat from my body.
“You are cold,” he said. “You should go into the house.” I stood up reluctantly, but having fallen under Darius’s charming influence, I did not want to leave him right now.
“Will you come in with me?” I boldly asked. He smiled at me.
“No, I have to go.” But then he added, “besides, your friend might not like you bringing strangers into the house.” I hesitated before answering, I had forgotten the lie that I had told him. He had not.
“What I told you yesterday,” I began, “was not entirely true. There is no friend, I was just being cautious.”
“Very wise of you,” he said, standing up, “but I suspected as much,” he concluded
cordially. He stood very close to me now and was at least a foot taller, which meant that I had to look up to him, and now I could feel my heart racing. There was chemistry, a connection between us. It was in the way he looked at me and I was sure he felt it too. Suddenly my hand was in his, and my instant reaction was to recoil. His touch was like ice!
“You must come in,” I insisted. “You are freezing!”
“No,” he said quickly. He seemed momentarily agitated. “No, I have just been sitting too long on a cold stone bench.” It was as if he had read the words out of my mind, exactly my previous thoughts. But then his bewitching green gaze met my own, he took my hand again and I forgot how cold his skin felt, I was convinced that it was probably quite normal, it was mine that was on fire. The kiss
was the merest of caresses on the back of my hand, it was like a cool breeze had danced seductively over my skin, and it took my breath away. It was the simplest of gestures, but it was one of the most romantic moments in my life. Without releasing me, he brushed a strand of hair gently away from my face with his other hand.
“Sleep well Madeline,” he said before fixing me with a smouldering look that sent a shiver through my entire body, he released my hand and turned from me. Seizing the moment I had to ask.
“Darius, when will I see you again?”
“Nightfall tomorrow,” he replied simply, as he stepped back from me. I turned and unlocked the door to Ravens Deep and then I looked back to him again.
He had gone.
There was no sound or movement, he had completely disappeared into the darkness. I blinked in disbelief, how could be have vanished into thin air with no sound. His departure confounded my understanding completely. But I did not linger on the doorstep. I let myself into the dark house, turned on the lights and felt instantly warmer, although I was confused.
How could he possibly see where he was going?
It was pitch black out there, and why had he said nightfall, I should have arranged to meet him in the morning, but maybe he had to work. And it suddenly dawned on me that I still had no clue as to who he really was. Why hadn’t I at least asked exactly where he lived or what job he did? But all the mundane things seemed to fly from my mind when I was close to him. Questions I wanted to ask to were still unanswered, and where exactly did he go after leaving here? There was no house through the woods, if there was, it was an invisible one.
I also doubted myself, my words and actions. Was I foolish inviting a complete stranger into the house? But when I was with him he didn’t feel like a stranger, he felt familiar as if I had known him for a long time, and I was perplexed by my lack of caution when I was around him. I put all my dubious actions down to the fact I was enchanted by him. He made my heart race, my pulse quicken, and my attraction to him was so strong that it was quite disconcerting. In our brief encounters, he had woken feelings that lay dormant, and I would have never believed that anyone could have had that effect upon me. I thought about that kiss and was in turmoil, wrestling with my thoughts and emotions, in my head replaying everything Darius had said.