Cass unfolded the flier he had sent. “It doesn’t say.” She turned it over and read the note he had written.
“Please come to the sale with Ethan and Harry. I may need your help.
Zach”
“I expect to be paid for my help.”
“Don’t be a mercenary, Harry.” Ethan chuckled. “Don’t you have any of your pay from the army left?”
“Ma took most of it.”
“Why did you let her do that?”
“She’s my ma.” He patted his breast pocket. “She gave me enough for two horses.”
“I don’t see any sign of a horse let alone a farm,” Ethan said. “Maybe Zach was ribbing us about being rich.”
“Look there.” Cass pointed at the split rail fence. Someone had cut the hay, and it was piled to dry. “Signs of civilization.”
When Harry reached the top of a hill, he let out a whistle. “That’s not a house. That’s a castle.”
“Zach was telling the truth about the grand house his great-grandfather built,” Ethan said.
Ravens Roost loomed in front of them. The road was straight the remaining distance, allowing a visitor to view the symmetrical stone structure as it grew larger into view. Four turrets framed the corners of the medieval structure in the rolling hills of Ohio. “It’s beautiful.”
“Don’t look too close,” Harry said as they neared.
The lawn was overgrown, and weeds grew among the roses in front of the entrance. Several shutters were hanging loose or on the ground. Why would Zach neglect his beloved home?
Harry stopped the carriage in front of the steps leading to the doors, and Ethan helped Cass reach the ground. “What happened to the place?”
“We won’t find out standing here.” Cass climbed the stone steps and raised the iron ring on the double oak doors. She banged the knocker against the metal plate. The noise echoed inside.
Ethan’s eyebrows bunched, and he frowned. “Sounds empty.”
Cass rapped the knocker again, louder this time.
Ethan put his ear to the door. “I hear footsteps.” He stepped back.
One of the massive doors creaked open. Framed in the doorway was an elderly woman dressed in black with a long white apron. Her white hair was topped with a black cap. “May I help you?” she shouted in a loud brittle voice.
“We’re here to see Zach Ravenswood,” Ethan said. “He’s a friend of ours.”
“Who?”
“Zach Ravenswood,” Ethan repeated louder.
She wiped her hands on her apron. “Is Mister Ravenswood expecting you?”
“Yes,” Cass said. “He wrote and invited us to visit.” She showed her the note on the flier.
She shook her head and released a long sigh. “When did poor Mister Ravenswood write?”
“A week ago.”
“Wait here.” The woman closed the door without inviting them inside.
Cass turned to her companions. “That was rude.”
“What’s going on?” Ethan asked. “And why did she say poor Mister Ravenswood?”
The woman took her time returning. She barely opened the door. “Mister Ravenswood is ill and isn’t receiving guests.”
“But we traveled all this way,” Cass said. “Isn’t there going to be a sale?”
“A gale?” The old woman looked at the sky and pointed at a dark cloud. “It looks like rain.”
“We were asking about the horse sale!” Ethan shouted.
“The sale is on Saturday. You should return then.” She pushed the door closed. The clank of a bolt locking the entrance echoed from inside.
“Well, I never.” Cass stared at the wooden barrier, willing it to open. “We’re here to see Zach! If he’s ill, I can help!” Her shouts were unanswered.
“Come on.” Ethan pulled her away and helped her into the buggy.
She turned. A curtain moved. Someone was watching them.
Harry took the reins and glanced at the sky. “She was right about a storm. We better hurry to the village. We can try again tomorrow.”
Ethan relaxed against the back seat. “Any of you buying that fairytale the old witch was telling?”
“No, but what can we do?” Harry asked. “We’ve been thrown out of the castle.”
“Old witch,” Cass repeated Ethan’s description.
Harry slowed the horse. “Are you all right, Miss Cassie? You look pale.”
“Don’t you remember the fortune teller’s prediction? I think Zach is in trouble, and he needs our help.”
Ethan leaned forward. “How do you propose we sneak past the crazy doorkeeper?”
Cass grabbed the side as the buggy hit a rut and nearly threw her out. “Stop the carriage once we’re past the hill.” She turned to Harry. “You said the buggy was old. Do you mind if we break a wheel?”
“Break a wheel? How will we return home?”
Ethan held his hand out as raindrops fell. He grinned. “A broken buggy and rain. They can’t turn us away.”
Harry stopped the buggy. “Better unhitch the horse first.” Cass examined the spokes on the wheels of the buggy. “Any of these look like they could break apart?”
“This one is splintered.” Ethan kicked the spoke until it broke. A few more kicks and the wheel was damaged enough to prevent travel.
Harry led the horse around. “They might make one of us ride the horse.”
“Not in this rainstorm.” Cass packed her gloves, reticule, and other loose belongings into her empty basket.
Harry and Ethan grabbed their bags, and they headed back to the house.
By the time they reached the door, the heavens had opened. The deluge thoroughly soaked them, and they shivered on the threshold. “No one could turn us away looking like this,” Ethan said.
Cass rapped the knocker and waited for the woman to come. Her teeth chattered when she gave her explanation. “The wheel broke on the buggy.”
“We would appreciate some shelter,” Ethan added when the woman looked as if she wouldn’t invite them inside.
“You can’t drag the horse in.”
“Where’s the barn?” Harry shouted.
She pointed at the drive. “Behind the house.”
Harry handed Ethan his bag and led the horse along the drive.
Ethan and Cass stepped into the foyer. Their wet clothes dripped on the stone floor. Their miserable appearance contrasted against the grandeur of the interior. The ceiling was two-stories high in the entranceway and framed by the double staircase leading to the second-floor landing. Dark wooden beams contrasted against the white plaster in a Tudor style of architect. A massive chandelier sparkled above them. “It’s beautiful.” Cass emphasized her compliment with a sneeze.
“My cousin needs to change into some dry clothes,” Ethan said.
“I must inform Seymour of your return.” The old woman left them dripping and shivering.
“She could have offered a towel.” Ethan wrung out his coat, leaving a puddle on the floor.
Chapter Twenty
The old woman returned with a man dressed in black. The professionally tailored suit failed to hide the stoop in his shoulders, and the only thing paler than his skin was the starched paper collar on his shirt. His piercing eyes were surrounded by deep squint lines and showed no warmth. A salt and pepper mix colored what remained of his thinning hair. “I’m Seymour Woods.”
“Pleasure to meet you.” Cass extended her cold, wet hand.
He grunted, unwilling to touch it. “Mrs. Graves tells me you are seeking lodging. The village has a boarding house. Farther west are two inns near the railroad.”
“We were invited to Ravens Roost by Zachary Ravenswood.” Cass shivered. “He’s our friend.”
“He isn’t receiving visitors.”
Ethan stepped forward. He was taller than Seymour and had at least thirty pounds of muscle compared to the older man’s frail frame. “I’m Ethan Donovan and this is my cousin, Cassandra Beecher. We traveled here with our friend,
Harry Herbruck. Harry and I served with Zach in the Twenty-ninth Ohio. We were turned away by your housekeeper.” Ethan turned toward Mrs. Graves. “As you can see, we were caught in the rain after a wheel on our buggy broke.”
“We won’t be turned away again,” Cass said.
“You’re an impertinent young woman,” Seymour said.
“Only when faced with rudeness.” She squared her shoulders. “Zach is a dear friend. What seems to be the nature of his illness?”
A sinister smile crept onto Seymour’s face. “Zachary was horribly disfigured in a fire.”
Cass covered her mouth. It couldn’t be true. “How?”
“One of the barns caught on fire,” he said. “Zachary rushed in to save the horses. He’s lucky to be alive.”
“Has a doctor seen him?”
“Of course. Now he’s under the care of Sister Lucia.”
A nun? “Is she experienced? Did she help soldiers during the war?”
A dark eyebrow rose on Seymour’s face. “She provided comfort to many soldiers during the war.”
Cass wasn’t convinced. “I would like to see Zach.”
“Sister Lucia is his nurse,” Seymour said. “It will be her decision whether he is well enough to receive any visitors. It’s important Zachary remain calm.”
“We wouldn’t want to make matters worse.” Cass steadied her voice. “We’ll follow orders.” To a point.
Seymour turned to the old woman. “Mrs. Graves, fetch some towels for our hapless travelers.”
The woman looked around the room. “Fowls?”
“Towels, you batty old woman.”
Mrs. Graves nodded and climbed the stairs to the second floor.
“Zach invited us.” Cass showed him the flier.
He snatched it from her hand. “When did you receive this?”
“Recently.” He looked disturbed. What was wrong with the flier?
Harry opened the front door and stepped inside. “Are we staying?”
“We’re staying,” Cass said before Seymour could argue.
Mrs. Graves returned and distributed the towels.
“It seems we have guests.” Seymour tapped Mrs. Graves on the shoulder. “Prepare a couple of rooms.”
“Brooms?”
“Rooms, you daft woman. Rooms for our guests!”
She looked confused. “I’m the cook, not the maid.”
Seymour’s voice raised to a high pitch and his face reddened. “You won’t be either if you don’t do what I say.”
“All these strangers in the house.” She shook her head. “Where shall I put them?”
“Near Zachary if they can endure his screams.” The briefest smile appeared on Seymour’s thin lips. He had enjoyed shocking them.
Mrs. Graves climbed the staircase at a tortoise pace while they waited below.
Cass refused to be intimidated by Seymour who was studying his unwelcomed guests. “When was the fire?”
“Saturday night. We lost the barn with the broodmares and foals.”
We? “Zach must have been devastated.”
“He braved the flames to save them, but the structure was compromised,” Seymour said. “That’s how he was burned.”
Cass rubbed her hair with the towel. “Poor Zach.”
Seymour stared at her, his eyes lingering on the wet, clinging fabric of her gown. “You’re the woman in the photograph Zachary keeps on his dresser. How long have you known him?”
Cass draped the towel over her shoulders and breasts. “Zach and I corresponded for the past year. We spent time together in Washington City after he broke his leg.”
“He broke his leg?”
Cass swiped a drip falling from her forehead. “It seems you know little about Zachary.”
He snorted. “I’m not his grandfather. We did not correspond.”
“Is that why it took so long to notify him about his grandfather’s death?”
“I sent word as soon as possible. It wasn’t my fault he couldn’t return home for the funeral. Fate can’t be avoided.”
“I don’t believe that,” Cass said. “Oedipus Rex would never have killed his father or married his mother if his parents had ignored the seer’s prediction. Their fear caused the future they had hoped to avoid.”
Seymour was surprised by her statement. “You know the classics?”
“My father enjoys them. So does Zach.”
His eyes narrowed. “How did their fear fulfill the seer’s words?”
“They tried to get rid of Oedipus thinking it would prevent the prediction, but because his mother and father were strangers when he met them, he fulfilled the prophecy,” she said. “Ignorance can cause us to stumble, but knowledge aids us in making the right decisions in life.”
Seymour’s stern visage cracked into a hostile sneer. “Then I’m lucky I make my own fate.”
Cass met his hostile gaze. “So do I.”
“I’ll see what is keeping Mrs. Graves.” He ascended the steps while they remained in the foyer.
“Who’s Oedipus Rex?” Ethan asked. “I never met him.”
Cass shivered. “A dead Greek.”
“Cousin, that’s insane.”
“This place is insane,” Harry said. “Didn’t Zach mention a ghost haunting Ravenswood? I don’t know who’s scarier, Seymour or Mrs. Graves.”
The elderly servant stood at the top of the stairs. “Your rooms are ready.” Her message echoed past the foyer and into the open hall beyond.
They gathered their belongings and climbed the marble steps. Cass cringed at her reflection in a large mirror on the wall. She looked like a drowned cat. A crack of thunder echoed outside the stone walls, and a flash of lightning lit the sectioned windows flanking the door. The summer rainstorm had transformed into a violent downpour that turned the sunshine into darkness.
Mrs. Graves waved a candle at the top of the landing. “This way, children.”
Harry scowled. “Is she blind, too?”
Cass ran her finger along a layer of dust on the bottom of a portrait frame hanging on the wall. Mrs. Graves had stated she was the cook. What had happened to the maid? Cobwebs had formed between the balusters on the staircase. How long had cleaning been neglected?
“Ethan looked around. “What has Zach gotten us into?”
“Whatever it is, Zach needs our help more than we imagined.” Cass paused on the landing and looked around. Ravenswood had been grand at one time, but carpets were worn and floors needed polished. She turned toward the master bedroom, centered between the twin staircases.
“That room belonged to the late Elijah Ravenswood,” Mrs. Graves said.
“Where is Zach’s room?”
“Down the hall.” Mrs. Graves led the way. “He is staying in the room he occupied as a boy.”
“Did you know Zach as a boy?”
“Yes. My husband and I worked here for forty years. He died two years ago, but Elijah said I had a job as long as I wanted.” She made a sour face. “Seymour is of a different mind. He fired all the other servants, but I wouldn’t go.” She stopped at the first room on the right and opened the door. “You two gentlemen can share this room.” She lit a candle resting on a table near the door.
“Share?” Ethan asked. “Who’s in the room across the hall?”
“That was Paxton’s room. Zachary’s brother. It’s been closed since his death. So much sorrow these last few years and now the young master. A curse hangs over the house of Ravenswood.” She nodded toward the room at the end of the hall. “Mister Ravenswood is in the room on the end. The young lady can stay in the room across from his.”
“Thank you.” Cass grabbed her bag from Harry, who had carried it. “I need to change into dry clothes.”
Mrs. Graves opened the door for her and lit a candle by the bed. “I hope you’ll be comfortable in here.”
Cass dropped her bag on the bed. A scream echoed from the nearby room. “Zach!” She ran across the hallway and opened the door. Seymour block
ed her entry.
“Sister Lucia is giving Zachary his treatment. You cannot interrupt.”
“Treatment?” Cass looked at Harry and Ethan who had rushed into the hallway. “I want to see him.”
“I know you won’t heed my warning, but it would be better to remember him the way he was,” Seymour warned. “Burn victims are badly scarred.”
Cass pursed her lips. “I’m not the type of woman to faint.”
“She isn’t,” Ethan confirmed.
“Let me see if Sister Lucia will allow a visitor.” Seymour closed the door.
Cass turned to the two men. “I’m getting tired of people slamming doors in my face.”
A crash of thunder shook the house. Harry jumped and looked around. “It might be better to wait to see him.”
“Harry, I’ve seen you stare into the face of charging Rebs during a battle. Why are you afraid of a little thunder and lightning?”
“It sounds too much like cannon fire,” Harry said. “Death always follows.”
Ethan put his arm around him. “Not this time.”
“You’re braver than me,” Harry said. “I don’t know if I could face seeing Zach in pain. Remember when he broke his leg? It was bent in the middle, and his foot was turned the wrong way.” Harry closed his eyes and looked nauseated.
“Have you forgotten our pledge? All for one and one for all,” Ethan reminded them.
“Instead of Cardinal Richelieu and Milady, we have Seymour and Sister Lucia,” Cass said.
Harry squared his shoulders when the door opened. Seymour blocked the entrance. “You don’t want to see him.”
“Stand aside,” Ethan ordered.
Seymour moved back. “I warned you.”
They entered the darkened room.
“We keep the curtains drawn for his comfort.” Seymour pulled aside the draperies. A glimmer of light penetrated the thick rain clouds casting objects in shadows. A flash of lightning illuminated the room for a moment followed by a crash of thunder.
A single candle cast an eerie glow on a female figure standing by the bed. She was dressed in the white robe and wimple of a nun. She wore white gloves on her hands. It was difficult to determine her age with only her face exposed, but her almond-shaped eyes and full lips gave her an exotic look as the flame flickered.
Impending Love and Madness Page 17