“Absolutely right, my dear. I could not ask for better. See, he is beginning to sweat it out.”
A flush spread over Seeley until he was bright red all over and the sweat beaded up and trickled. I would have dabbed him with a cool, damp cloth, but Dr. VanZeldt stopped me.
“No. Leave him.”
Tears streamed down my face from helplessness and worry. I began to softly sing Aunt Permilla’s lullaby. After I sang, “We’ll stop up the cracks and sew up the seams,” I broke off. It hurt too much that I hadn’t stopped up the cracks for Seeley. I had let in this awful thing.
Dr. VanZeldt sat in a chair on the other side of the bed while Uwa and Ahigbe stood in their dark corner. I was acutely conscious of their presence in spite of their silence and stillness. Uwa especially. Occasionally I would glance away from Seeley and find him watching me with an intent, probing gaze. Once he smiled, slowly, showing lots of long white teeth. I looked away quickly. When eventually the two left the room, taking their basket with them, I let out a low sigh of relief.
After what seemed hours the doctor touched my arm. “There is nothing more anyone can do. He will be resting peacefully by morning. I will sit with him. He will be perfectly safe. You go to your bed. Try to sleep.”
I shook my head but found myself rising and crossing to the door. I had to do as Dr. VanZeldt ordered.
As I lay on my bed in my own room, fully dressed, rigid beneath the sheets, I heard the doctor’s voice as if in a dream.
“And Raphtah came down from the stars, from the constellation the Greeks called Draco, in the form of a man. He found the Family among all the world, and they were beautiful to look upon, as precious gems among drab pebbles. They fell upon their knees and worshiped him, and they were called Children of Raphtah. He taught them his ways so that if they had wished, they might have been rulers among men, but they did not wish. They desired only to be left alone. He taught them the sacred dances—those of joy and those of mourning. Those of worship. He taught them the use of herbs. Herbs that heal and herbs that harm. Potions of forgetfulness and tinctures of remembrance. Others knew these same secrets, but only the outer edges, not the fullness. He taught them to drink the venom of serpents, that they might dream dreams and see visions and be impervious to the sword. He showed them his true self, his glorious self, his scales gleaming like gold, like rubies. Then he told them, ‘I must leave, but if the time is right, if there is great need, you may call me back. You must dance the sacred dance and sing the Words. You must make the sacrifices, not out of cruelty, but necessity.…’ ”
What sort of tale was he telling my cousin? I dragged myself down the hall to Seeley’s bedside. “I can’t sleep,” I said to Dr. VanZeldt. “Please try to get some rest yourself. I’ll stay with him.”
“As you wish,” the doctor said, cleaning his glasses. I was surprised to see that without the lenses his eyes were actually small and squinting. “I shan’t leave the house yet. I will be just outside if you need me.” He went out and shut the door.
I owed him Seeley’s life, yet I couldn’t trust that man. The business with the snake was so disturbing, and his story had been so peculiar. I couldn’t rid myself of the idea that I had made a deal with the devil, that there was a bond between us now that I did not want.
The room was turning gray with dawn when Seeley gave a sigh and his eyes fluttered open. The sweating had ceased.
“Violet,” he whispered.
I jerked forward. “Yes, my squidlet.”
“My stomach hurts.”
“I know. It’ll get better.”
“It was poison, wasn’t it?”
“Why do you think so?” I licked my lips carefully.
“I heard that man—that man with the pink face—talking about it.”
There was no point in lying. “Yes, it was.”
“Was it Dorian?” His face had no expression.
“I can’t—Seeley, I don’t—”
“It’s all right, Violet. It was him, wasn’t it? Back before we came here, after my parents died, I could tell he wanted to hurt me. Because he wants Panola.” Although he made the statement flatly, his forehead puckered in bewilderment. “How could he hate me so much? He must always have hated me.” After a long pause he said wistfully, “I wish I had a real brother.”
I flinched at the pain in my heart. At that moment I could have strangled Dorian with my bare hands. Or, better yet, fed him poison, drop by measured, burning drop.
“Seeley, my darling, Dorian is—there’s something terribly wrong inside him, something missing. But he’ll never be allowed near you again. I’ll make sure of that. You mustn’t be afraid. The world is actually full of good people. I know it doesn’t seem that way when you’re surrounded by war and death and you had the bad luck to have Dorian Rushton as a cousin, but such cruelty, such evil, and such selfishness are rare. And for the rest of my life I want to show you what fine people there really are and how loved and precious you are.”
“Was it in my honey milk? I thought it tasted funny.”
“Yes. If it tasted funny, why did you drink it?”
“Because I thought it tasted funny since she made it, and I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. So did she want to kill me too?” His mouth was tightly drawn and gave his face an old look. Tears welled in his eyes.
“No, no,” I said quickly. “Sunny didn’t know anything about it. She didn’t know what she was giving you.” I lied. I had to lie. “Now close your eyes again and I’m going to tell you the story of the amazing adventure that came about when Heath Blackstock threw up all over his hideout.”
Seeley gave a feeble grin. “I’ll tell Thomas on you.”
“Thomas has been through enough with battles and wounds that he knows even heroes vomit sometimes.”
I had just begun the story when I paused mid-sentence. A soft click sounded from out in the hall. I sensed a watchfulness, a listening, coming from behind the closed door.
Tumbles from trees and accidents with rifles—the events of the past weeks with Seeley took on a new, sinister quality as I replayed them in my mind. Dorian had been so cunning, playing the frivolous, heedless young man, making a show of his kindness to Seeley, while all the while plotting and calculating. How had I been so dense? He had troubled me, but I had thought it was only because of his falseness to Sunny.
With daylight, now that my younger cousin was out of danger and the VanZeldts were gone, came the realization that I must address my older cousin’s villainy. As I sat beside sleeping Seeley, so innocent, so vulnerable, my reflections were chaotic. Bewilderment, horror, and outrage were all compounded with exhaustion. How could anyone be so evil as to try to harm this child? If Sunny had not told me what she’d done, we would probably be washing Seeley for burial right now. I shuddered.
Sunny. What about Sunny?
When Laney poked her head inside to check on us, I asked her to stay with Seeley so I could talk to my stepsister. I found Sunny huddled in one of the rockers on the front porch, her face pinched and white, her hands limp in her lap.
“Are you watching for Dorian?” I asked.
She didn’t answer. Instead she said, “Is Seeley still all right?” in a voice that sounded dead.
“Yes.” I dropped into another rocker beside her. “It was all Dorian’s scheme, I know, but, Sunny, how could you?”
She gave a boneless shrug. “Dorian is so persuasive and I wanted him so badly. Somehow it was as if I were watching someone else do what I did. Someone else pouring in the powder. I didn’t want it to happen. I never really believed anything would happen. Could happen. Dorian said he’d only be ill.”
I didn’t speak for a moment because of the hot red rage that clogged my throat. It wasn’t directed at Sunny. It was at Dorian. Those weeks of whispering into Sunny’s ears, niggling into her mind, pressing and pushing until her weaker nature gave in. It was surprising she’d held out as long as she had. My voice shook when I finally spoke. “Dorian is a liar. H
e does have a powerful personality. I understand that. But you’re not five years old, Sunny. You know what an awful thing it was! You did make a choice and you’re going to have to accept what you almost brought about.”
Her trembling hands covered her face. In a shivering rush of breath, she cried, “I know I will! I know it! How could I ever forget?”
I patted her shoulder. “Thank goodness Seeley’s going to be all right. And you’ll be punished enough without the law knowing about you. Dorian is another story. Michael needs to go for the marshal.”
Sunny’s arms dropped. “No!” she cried so violently that I started. “You’re not turning him in. You can’t do that to us. To your own family. He—Dorian’s not a bad person. It was just wanting Panola so desperately and wishing to be able to marry me soon that drove him to it.”
“You can’t expect me to do nothing about this.”
“Seeley’s alive and Dorian will never try again now that you know everything. We’ll go away together, he and I. You owe me that much. Don’t look at me like that, Vi-let! Seeley would be dead now if I hadn’t told you what was going on. If you try to get Dorian hanged, I’ll—I’ll swear Seeley was just ill and the rest is all your sick imagination.”
She would do it. I could see from her face that she would do it. I wanted to scream at her, pummel sense into her; I shook from the effort of holding myself rigidly in check. After a few seconds she looked away and slumped down again in the rocker, facing the wall. Without Sunny’s support there was nothing I could do. I had no concrete proof. So far it had seemed best to tell no one else, not even Laney and Michael, what had really happened. Dr. VanZeldt believed it was poison only because I had said it was.
“All right,” I said slowly, evenly, although I was gripping my hands so tightly they began to tingle. “We’ll let Dorian move on if he swears to never come near Seeley again, since it’s between family.” I shook my hands out to make the blood flow. “But you can’t really still want to marry him after what he tried to do.”
“Of course I do,” she said quietly, as if there were no question. “I love him. Especially after all this he needs me.”
“But won’t he be furious because you told me and spoiled things?”
“Not if he never knows I did. Tell him—I know—tell him you saw the sludge left from the powder in the bottom of the cup and guessed Seeley’d been poisoned. And then you knew it was us. We’ll tell him that.”
I shook my head and sighed.
The sound of hooves coming down the lane reached us. I sat up straighter in my chair.
Dorian came riding up, hair and teeth glinting in the sun. He dismounted Grindill and slipped the reins over the newel post. He looked from Sunny’s face to mine as he climbed the steps. “What is it?” he asked. “What’s happened?”
“Not what you think,” I said coldly. “Seeley’s fine.”
I could see his brain working as he quickly took in the situation. His blue eyes went wild around the edges, like a trapped animal’s, but only for a moment. Then they settled into their usual cheerful, casually cunning expression as he leaned against the porch post. “Why? Is there a reason he shouldn’t be?”
I glared. “You know good and well that you tried to kill your own cousin. You did it through Sunny and poison this time. And the rifle last time. And I bet you partially sawed through that limb when it broke beneath Seeley right after you got here.”
There was an ugly little pause as Dorian’s eyes widened. “So, Sunny tried to poison Seeley?” He turned on her. “You poor, silly girl! I knew you were despairing for money so we could marry, but this.…”
Sunny sat straight up, staring.
“Sounds like there’s no harm done,” he continued, turning back to me. “She’s a fool, but I doubt she’ll be a danger to anyone again. And blood’s thicker than water, so we’ll stand by her and not make it a matter for the law. Oh, wait, she isn’t actually your sister. Oh. Well, I hope you’re not bent on revenge against Sunny, coz. Could be tricky and unpleasant.”
My stepsister sputtered and so did I.
“You—you—cold-blooded, fiendish—Dorian!” Aunt Permilla had raised me too well to know names bad enough. “You can’t brazen your way out of this. You tried to murder Seeley. I know it’s you. All you, Dorian, and you can’t kill me and Sunny and everyone else who knows.” Of course, the others had no idea about the truth, but my cousin couldn’t know that. “If it were up to me, the marshal would have been waiting for you here. However, Sunny convinced me and I can convince the others not to turn you over to the law if you’ll swear to never come near Seeley again. Because if you do, if you do come within—within a hundred miles of him or Panola or Scuppernong, I promise I’ll see you hanged.” I ended on a high, shrill note.
“Well, well, coz! I knew there was passion buried in you just waiting to surface. So, is it the soldier—Thomas, isn’t that his name?—who’s brought it out?” He spoke in a slow, insolent drawl.
My face went numb. My lips felt so thick I was surprised I could form words. “You know about—how do you know about Thomas?”
“Oh, that letter you had me mail to his family. Of course I read it. At first I didn’t think much except to admire you for your slyness, but afterward it told me why you’ve been immune to my advances. And lately—in fact, just now—it occurs I have something to hold over your head. Remember that—I’ll go away and keep quiet about your soldier if you keep quiet about me. Even though really I’ve done nothing. Nothing’s happened.”
“Your ‘advances’?” Sunny squeaked as if she’d heard nothing else. “You tried to seduce Violet?”
“Oh, ho hum.” Dorian yawned. “Why not tell you now that it’s all blown up in our faces? Yes, of course I tried with Violet, but she’d have none of it.”
Sunny gave a terrible cry and leaped up to cling to him. “I love you! I did everything for you.”
He extricated himself none too gently. His eyes narrowed and his expression of mild mockery changed to one of undisguised malevolence. “That’s why it was so easy, sweetheart. I did worry you’d make a mess of things, as indeed you did, but I had to work with what I had.”
Sunny dropped into her rocker, swinging her head back and forth as if in pain. “You don’t mean it. He doesn’t mean it.”
Dorian snorted and clapped. “Well, there, it feels good to let that out. And, Sunny, in case you haven’t gathered, our delightful betrothal is at an end. I leave you a free woman. I’d best be going now. Let me fetch King, and do you mind if I just grab my things out of the spare room? I won’t go upstairs at all.”
I staggered to my feet, amazed at his breezy recovery. It was all too fast. Everything was too fast. I didn’t know if I myself would ever recover from the knowledge of what my cousin Dorian was capable of. Of his cheery, smiling soullessness.
“No, no, no,” he said, and gently pushed me back into my seat. “No need to disturb yourself on my account.” He started for the door and then turned around. “Oh, and thank you, coz, for saving me from hanging—twice.”
Sunny was crying, a high, brittle, terrible sound. I touched her hand to comfort her. She snatched it back as if I were poison.
An awful few days followed. Seeley had little appetite and was weak and listless. Dr. VanZeldt had warned it would take the boy some time to heal from the ravages worked on his innards and that nothing would speed up the process. Even if there had been something the doctor could do, I didn’t know if I could have borne approaching him again.
Everyone was miserable. Miss Elsa agonized over Dorian’s departure and the end of Sunny’s betrothal. We told her simply that Dorian had turned out to be a rascal and had broken off the engagement. She was as heartsick as if it were she who had been jilted. She worried Sunny with her fussing, and when the daughter spoke sharply in response, the mother hid in her room, snuggling her last remaining drops of laudanum.
Laney watched us all with worried eyes, but said little. A new wedge was forced betw
een us from the secrets I could not share.
Sunny never asked me about Thomas. Probably she had been in such a state she hadn’t even heard Dorian allude to him. My stepsister fluctuated between trying to avoid Seeley and begging to do things for the boy—bring him treats or play cards. I watched her warily. I was prepared to forgive, but couldn’t forget, and for Seeley’s sake I had to be cautious. Sunny seemed aware of my holding back. Sometimes I would find her eyes on me, pleading. I couldn’t yet give her what she wanted.
The first time she offered my cousin a cool drink, he smiled, took it, and said, “Thank you. I’m not scared of it hurting me. I know you didn’t mean to the other time.”
Her face scrunched, and she burst into tears and fled the room. I followed her to her bedroom, where she punched her pillow with a fist, crying, “I hate him!”
And she didn’t mean Seeley.
Another time I caught her staring strangely at the face carved on the back of the sofa. She gave a thin, humorless laugh. “Look at that. It’s got a smirk like Dorian’s.” She popped her hand over her mouth. “Oh, I meant never to say his name again.” Suddenly she was beating the old sitting room armchair with a cushion, crying, “He should not have done that to me! He had no right!”
Anger was probably a good sign.
I, meanwhile, was at a loss over Thomas.… Dorian would not trouble him as long as I kept the law ignorant of his treachery, but there were still the VanZeldts. Despite the fact that they had cured Seeley, I couldn’t trust them. As Thomas recovered further, their healing might turn to something more threatening. He still needed me, even though I had painfully broken off the romance.
And about that—whenever I had a spare moment to think of anything other than the current mess we were in, I had begun to question my reasoning. I had thought I was being so grown-up, so wise, facing facts; was I actually a fool?
However, I told myself firmly, at this moment it didn’t matter. I couldn’t leave Seeley right now, no matter what, since he fretted if I left his side for more than a few minutes. Food must be taken to the Lodge.… I made a decision. I must confide in Michael—and, of course, in Laney, since he would have no secrets from her. Three mornings after Dorian left, I related to them what Seeley and I had been doing for the past weeks.
The Mirk and Midnight Hour Page 25