A Heart Possessed

by Katherine Sutcliffe

  "Aye. For the next few days my husband and I will be acting like newlyweds. We're retiring to our quarters and don't wish to be disturbed for any reason."

  Ducking her head, Tilly giggled and said, "Now ain't that nice. I'm certain 'is lordship is gonna be a different man now that y've married 'im. Yes, mum, we're goin' I1 sec the true master amidst us again just any day."

  Smiling, I said, "I hope so Tilly. We'll just have to have faith."

  I thought: I only hope I have enough faith to see this through. I have to believe, to trust. No matter what happens from this moment on. I must continue to have faith.

  Chapter 16

  The hag regarded me with caution as I stooped to pick up my son. Lifting Kevin in my arms, I smiled into his green eyes and said, "Come to Mother, my darling." Kissing his cheek, I turned to Bea and said, "You're suddenly very quiet, Bea. Is anything wrong?" I taunted her and took open pleasure in doing so.

  "Y'll be sorry soon enough' she said.

  "I doubt it"

  Her head tilted as she sidled closer to me, so close the musty smell of her aged skin filled my nostrils. "Hell kill you, girl. He's possessed by madness"

  "Don't be absurd," I told her. Cradling Kevin closer, I said, "I forbid you to talk in such a way."

  "He killed my darling Jane. My beautiful Jane." She smiled, showing me her teeth. "Would you like to see her?"

  I shook my head and stepped away. "Nay, I do not. Why should I?"

  "You should know her: You've taken her place in this house. She was a real beauty, fragile as a buttercup. It wouldn't take much to strike her down." She backed away, lifting her hand and motioning me to follow.

  I did follow, oddly hypnotized by the crone's words.

  Reaching the doorway to her bedroom I stopped, refusing to enter. As my eyes took in the room my skin crawled. Jane's possessions lined every corner of the quarters like treasured objects in a museum. A white nightgown adorned a mannequin, spilling from its armless Form to a puddle of exquisite lace on the floor. Pearl-backed combs and brushes were placed neatly across Bea's dresser, as well as cut-glass perfume bottles of every shape imaginable. But it was the portrait mi the wall that riveted my attention.

  Bea took the canvas from the wall and, turning back in me, held it up before her. "Jane."

  I held Kevin more tightly to me, but no matter how I willed it I could not take my eyes from the portrait, and the slashes running vertically over Jane's face.

  "He did this; took the portrait he'd painted and slashed it with a knife. The next night he killed her." She ambled closer. "She's a beauty, ain't she?"

  She is indeed a beauty, I thought with a sense of desperation. I wanted to turn and flee the room, but I remained, my feet like lead and my heart barely lighter. I studied Jane's childlike features, noting she appeared far more delicate than I had imagined her. Perhaps it was the milk-white skin, the baby-fine blond hair that Nicholas had so skillfully portrayed with the brush that made her appear so. Her eyes were blue and large and deep. Her lips wore a curl that was both sensual and aloof.

  "She looks very young," I said.

  "Only nineteen. She were a babe when he killed her,"

  "I forbid you to continue saying that, Bea. I'm not *M> patient as my husband. I'll see you away from Walthamstow if you pursue that allegation."

  "Only telling you for yer own good, lass. You'll be if yer not careful."

  I backed away, shaking my head.

  "Keep yer eye open," she said. "It comes on him when you least expect it."

  Unable to tolerate another moment of the woman's presence, I left the room. After returning Kevin to his bed I made for my own quarters, arriving just as Polly and Kate marched through my doorway, their arms burdened with my own belongings,

  "What's this?" I asked.

  "'is lordship's orders, mum," Kate replied. "We've been instructed to move yer clothes into the master's bedroom."

  My face colored as I met Polly's appraisal. Her eyes narrowed with malice before a sudden look of fear washed over her features. I knew, even before I turned, that my husband had joined us.

  He addressed me in a quiet voice. "Lady Malham. I hope you are agreeable to these accommodations."

  "Whatever pleases you, sir," I replied in a tight voice. His eyes studied me unblinkingly and a quivering began in my heart and stomach that unnerved me. Dear God, the seed of doubt and fear that Bea had planted inside me had begun to germinate into something tangible. My husband's presence frightened me. And he sensed it.

  "I looked for you earlier," he said. "Where were you?"

  "The kitchen."

  "After that."

  "With Kevin."

  "Ah." He slid his hands into the pockets of his jacket while looking beyond me to Kevin's room. "I have an appointment in ten minutes with Trevor." His eyes came back to mine. "I would like you to join us. We'll be discussing business, no doubt. You should become acquainted with that aspect of Walthamstow. It may be tedious and somewhat boring but it's necessary."

  "Very well, my lord. Whatever pleases you." We walked together down the hall. When we turned the corner, Nick's pace slowed. His hand came up and brushed the small of my back. The touch was like a knife blade through my insides. I gasped, ashamed of the sudden doubts that made me yearn to take my son and flee the man I had married that morning out of love.

  Me stopped before me, blocking my path. I found myself backing away no matter how I struggled to stand my ground. "Something's happened," came his quiet voice "Tell me what's happened."

  "Nothing."

  "Ariel__"

  "Nothing!" Throwing my head back, I met his eyes, dark and sharp as flint as they regarded me. There was no escaping. He saw my lie for what it was and without uttering a word he forced me to speak the truth. "Very well then" I spoke as bravely and straightforwardly as possible. If I was to be the next Lady Malham in Malham Cemetery this was as good a time as any to go about it. Rather now, in daylight (dim as it was in that bleak tunnel) than at night in my sleep when I least expected. "I spoke with Bea and she showed me the portrait you did of your wife."

  "You are my wife," he answered without inflection.

  Frustrated, I shook my head. "Jane!" I exclaimed. "I saw the portrait you did of Jane. Will you tell me why you slashed it?"

  Wyndham stood up straight before replying. "Better it than her, I should think. "

  "That is no consolation. Bea tells me she died the next night."

  "You mean I killed her the next night."

  "Precisely."

  "So. Do you finally doubt the wisdom of marrying me, sweetheart? Have they finally beaten some sense into your pretty head?" Like a striking snake his hand came out and caught my face, tilting my head back so roughly I flinched and grabbed his wrist. His dark head lowered over mine so closely I could feel his hot breath against my cheek. He said through his teeth, "A little late for regrets, isn't it, Lady Malham?"

  "I said nothing of regrets," I responded with passion.

  "No, you don't have to. You have that same look of fear in your eyes as everyone else in this house." Releasing me, he leaned against the wall at his back and closed his eyes. "Aye, I slashed the portrait. I slashed it because she asked me for Walthamstow. Asked? Let me rephrase that. She demanded Walthamstow. She told me she would have it one way or another."

  Nicholas looked at me and said, "I told her that night that I would see her dead before she took one rock from this estate." Noting my concern, he lifted one brow in surprise. "You mean the gossips haven't tattled about that one? It was one of our better arguments, actually. I was nearly driven to kill her then. But I had never lifted a hand against her, you see, and I was still sober enough to keep a rein on my temper. When she left the room I simply picked up a pallet knife and shredded the canvas." His features relaxed somewhat and he closed his eyes. "I'm sorry, Lady Malham, if that's not what you wanted to hear." Without looking at me again, Nicholas pushed away from the wall. We continued down the hall in silen
ce.

  The office suited my husband. Imposing and elegant, its linenfold carved walls gleamed with layer upon layer of fragrant beeswax. Mullioned windows overlooked Walthamstow's east gardens and the pond I had frequented when I first came to the estate.

  My lord saw me to a high-backed, brass-studded leather chair before the window. Beside me on a walnut trestle table were placed platters of sausages en brioche, canapes, petits fours, and fruit tarts. Tea steeped in a sterling silver pitcher.

  "Welcome to high tea," Nicholas said. "Become accustomed to it. Enjoy it. It's a tradition of the ton, you see. No doubt you'll be invited to a few once word of once our marriage reaches my peers. They'll want to inspect you, certainly, so they can vividly visualize your face when they are stabbing you in the back with their gossip." He picked up a petit four and bit into it. "It's safe to eat, sweetheart," he said. "As you can see, I haven't poisoned it yet."

  Before I could respond, Trevor entered the room with decanter of sherry. He stopped abruptly upon seeing me. "My lady, I wasn't aware you would be here. My apologies if I've kept you waiting."

  I returned his smile, acknowledging that the formality was more for my husband's benefit than for mine. Nicholas turned toward the desk, a great scroll-carved piece of oak that looked as aged as Walthamstow. I recognized the Wyndham escutcheon emblazoned upon it.

  Sit down," Nicholas ordered his brother. "I want to get this bloody meeting over with as soon as possible."

  "Understandable. This is your wedding day." Placing the sherry on the desk, Trevor reached for the liqueur set to one side and picked up two glasses. "A toast dim then to your marriage, my lord."

  Nicholas slowly took his chair, his eyes on the decanter. I knew a time would come when my husband's willpower would be tested but the knowledge did not lessen my anxiety. Nicholas was angry with me, and I would not have been surprised had he accepted Trevor's proffered toast just to hurt me. Too, I knew he needed the drink. His head had been aching him terribly. If I was correct in my prognosis, the pain would be crucifying him by now.

  He sat back in his chair, his face moist with sweat as he watched Trevor pour the first sherry. But as Trevor began to fill the second glass, he said, No, thank you." »

  Trevor tipped up the decanter and looked at his brother with surprise. "No? Good God, Nick, are you ill?"

  Nicholas shook his head, then looked to me.

  Releasing my breath, I smiled in encouragement and said, "Perhaps my lord would care for tea instead."

  Nicholas nodded and Trevor laughed in disbelief. "Tea? Nicholas drinking tea? I thought I'd never live to see the day. Very well, then, have your tea, dear brother. But if you don't mind, I'll drink my sherry." Lifting it to his mouth, he drank it down without taking a breath.

  Appearing paler suddenly, Nicholas closed his eyes as I hurried to pour his tea. I placed it before him and stood at his side, ready to offer support should he need it. Gently laying my hand on his shoulder, I said, "You seem overly warm, sir. Shall I remove your coat?"

  Slowly he left his chair and I slid the finely tailored jacket off his shoulders and down his arms. The white lawn shirt he wore beneath the coat clung damply to his skin, defining the tense muscles of his back and shoulders.

  Instead of returning to his chair, he began to pace, impatient to get on with the affair. Finally, after pouring himself another sherry, Trevor relaxed in his chair. "I won't beat about the bush, Nick. I've asked to see yon because an opportunity has arisen that I feel would be of great benefit to us."

  Nick stopped before the hearth, his back to his brother, his eyes on the glowing red coals of the peat fire, I le did not respond.

  Trevor, clearing his throat, twisted slightly and looked back over his shoulder. "My lord, if this is a bad time—"

  "There is never a good time, sir, so get on with it."

  Trevor glanced at me, and I saw in his blue eyes a flash of anger that was gone so swiftly I thought I had imagined it at first. But the sudden set of his mouth gave away his irritation at being treated so rudely. In truth, I could not blame him. Nicholas could cut to the hone with his abrupt manner when he was not in sound state of mind, and, suspecting the discomfort he must be experiencing at that time, I thought of suggesting that their conversation be delayed until later, I was not given the chance, however.

  As I mentioned earlier," Trevor continued, "I spoke to Earl Grey while in York. He is planning an expedition to Ghina and there is some talk of forming a partnership of sorts with Twinings of London. Earl Grey has kindly offered us an opportunity to join him in this venture."

  'For how much?"

  "Depends. We could become full partners for fifteen thousand pounds. However, for a much smaller percentage….."

  "No."

  "But…."

  "I said no.."

  Trevor turned away, his face burning as he stared at the decanter on the desk. "I wish you would at least hear me out," he said finally.

  "The last time I heard you out we lost twenty thousand pounds in a mine investment that caved in on our heads."

  "The vein looked good. How could we know it would give out so quickly?" He reached for another sherry. "Jesus, Nick, you're being unreasonable."

  My lord massaged the back of his neck. He closed his eyes. How I yearned to shield him from the pain he was experiencing, from the ordeal he would soon face. I would somehow have to prepare him, make him understand what was happening. But only after I was certain. I must be certain that the cause of Nick's nightmare was an addiction to opium.

  Trevor left his chair. With his hands in his pockets, he faced his brother again. "Then perhaps you will consider advancing me more of my allowance. That way the monetary burden, should the venture fail, will be totally my responsibility."

  This time Nick turned. With his gray eyes bright as quicksilver, he stared at Trevor intently before replying. "Forgive me if my memory has failed me again, but did I not advance you five thousand quid only a month ago?"

  "I had debts to pay, if you recall."

  "And you paid them."

  "I did. I am free and clear of any monetary obligations."

  Silence yawned between them, growing ever wider as the seconds ticked by. Doing my best to concentrate on my tea, I nibbled on a tart and listened as the tall case clock down the hallway chimed the half hour. As my husband returned to his desk to remove a ledger, I chose to peer out the window at the gardens, hoping my apparent disinterest would alleviate the tension in the room. It didn't. The longer my husband studied the ledger the more intense the anticipation became. Although Trevor remained quiet, the muscles in his jaw worked furiously with impatience.

  Finally Nick looked up, his eyes dark, the ends of his hair wet with perspiration, "Very well. I will see you another five thousand. But mind you, this will have to. do you until the year's end."

  Smiling, I released my breath, recalling again why I continued to love him despite all the obvious reasons why I shouldn't.

  Jubilant, Trevor leaned across the desk and slapped Nick on the arm. "Big brother, you've never let me down. I'll forever be grateful."

  Sitting back in his chair, Nick grinned, though I sensed it pained him to do so. "That should keep our sister in tea for a while," he said.

  "It will! And speaking of our sister, I would not venture too far from that chair. I understand she will be hitting you up soon for that trip to Paris. Perhaps you and Lady Malham should consider joining her. It might do you good, Nick, to get away from this dungeon. God, for a bit of fresh air. London would suffice for lack of anything better. Sometimes I actually envy Eugene and George their freedom in the colonies."

  "Oh, I don't know. Living among barbarians who wear little more than feathers on their heads hardly seems enviable from my position."

  Trevor laughed. "Perhaps you're more civilized than the rest of us. Who knows, it might do you good to experience the wilder side of living."

  "Perhaps," my husband responded in a tired voice.

&n
bsp; Trevor, his brow furrowed in concern, leaned on outstretched arms onto the desk. "Nick, are you all right?

  You've looked gravely ill since I entered the room. Your color is bad and you are sweating profusely."

  "Put away your medical text, sir; my head is splitting as usual, but I'll survive it. I think/' His attempt at humor fell short as he winced with pain. His hands, resting upon the desk, doubled into fists.

  Trevor looked around at me. "How long has he been this way, Ariel?"

  I considered my brother-in-law's expression before replying, "Since our return to Walthamstow, I think/'

  "Nick, you should've come to see me. If you would only let me help—•"

  "Keep your damnable leeches to yourself, Doctor. I'll not have one of those wretched bloodsucking little creatures anywhere on me."

  "There are alternate cures."

  "Oh? Like Bedlam, perhaps? No thanks, Trev, I'll throw myself off the roof before I let you and Adrienne do that to me."

  Affronted, Trevor abruptly stood upright. "You don't have to talk like we have some malicious intent to be rid of you. We only want what's best for you in the end."

  "Do you." It wasn't a question. Then his eyes came back to mine, hopeless, defeated . . . resolute. Oh God, I thought. I love you. Trust me. I'll never leave you. I'll never let them take you from me. I'll be your crutch for as long as you want me. For as long as you need me. Don't give up, I thought. Just don't give up.

  Slowly releasing his breath, Nicholas looked back at his brother. "Of course," he said. "Now if you'll forgive me, I've kept my wife waiting long enough. This is our wedding day, after all."

  "Certainly." Trevor turned to me. "Lady Malham, my congratulations again. I trust you'll continue to stop by my office on occasion. My patients have grown quite

  fond of you. Especially Mr. Dix."

  "Thank you, sir. I shall do so at every opportunity." Bestowing my husband and me one last smile, Trevor left the room.

  That night in our room I sat on the floor before the fire, watching the flames dance with each wind that spiraled down the chimney. Outside, winter had set in again with a vengeance, whipping ice and snow against the windows, moaning in the eaves. Nicholas lay with his head in my lap. Beside him on a blanket slept our son. I was content with whatever temporary peace had enfolded us for the moment.