“Worm?” Miss Marsh seemed confounded.
“Come now, Diana,” Lady Verr said. “You’ve heard the tales about how our great-great-great-grandfather several generations back slew a wicked dragon. Worm, as Mr. Holmes uses the word, means dragon or snake.” She turned again to Holmes. “And where do you expect to find this beast, Mr. Holmes? Here at Diana’s Grove in her old lair?” She laughed.
“I doubt it will be that simple, Lady Verr. I must admit to a certain skepticism.”
She nodded. “Ah yes, I remember that aspect of your character.”
Holmes looked irritated, which was generally the case when someone indicated they knew about him from having read Watson’s stories.
“Well, I concur with you, Mr. Holmes. There is a contingent of locals who claim to have seen this creature—and old Sir Nathaniel is convinced the beast has reappeared—but it seems nonsensical to me.”
Miss Marsh shook her head. “I have not heard of such a thing.”
“All the better, Diana dearest. I didn’t want to pass on such silliness.”
Miss Marsh was staring at Selton. “Have you heard these stories, Adam?” He nodded. “And why didn’t you tell me about them?”
“I didn’t want to worry you.”
“Worry me?” She could not seem to comprehend his words.
Lady Verr was staring at Holmes. The tiny octagonal lenses shrank her eyes and hid their true color. “I suspect, Mr. Holmes—or rather, I somehow know—that you are a naturalist at heart.”
“How could you know that?” Selton asked.
She smiled. “Elementary, my dear Selton! Anyone who cared enough about two adders to rescue them from a brute’s stick must be a naturalist. How is that for reasoning, Mr. Holmes?” He bowed his head slightly. “As such, you must know what these two snakes were doing.” My eyebrows came together, and Lady Verr laughed at my expression. “And I also can tell that the good doctor is not a naturalist. This was not some mating behavior, Dr. Vernier, but only the Darwinian struggle for survival, the battle between males for supremacy. Male snakes will writhe about one another and sometimes strike. The loser retreats, and to the winner goes the female and the prize of immortality by way of serpentine progeny.”
I stared at her in disbelief, and she laughed again. “No, not a naturalist at all! Anyway, Mr. Holmes, I have no white worms in my collection, but I have quite a collection of dead beetles and living reptiles. The prize is a Burmese python, now well over six feet long.”
“Have you?” Holmes exclaimed eagerly.
Selton shook his head angrily. “This is madness, just madness.”
Lady Verr stepped forward to touch him lightly on the arm. He quickly jerked backwards. “Come now, Adam—don’t be ridiculous. I have had Delilah for several years, and she is harmless, so long as you are not a small mammal.”
I frowned slightly. “You actually feed it…”
“Rabbits, Dr. Vernier. It is all over very quickly, and watching a snake actually swallow its prey whole—remarkable.”
I shook my head, repressing a shudder. “I fear my sentiments are more like Mr. Selton’s.”
“Well you need not see Delilah, but come inside for a few moments. Diana and I shall give you a tour of the old family pile. Oh, it may have lost some of its splendor of yesteryear, but it is our home, after all.” We started up the steps. A very tall woman in a black dress, obviously a servant, had come outside. Her hair and eyes were dark; she looked Italian or Spanish.
“While I’m showing them around, Diana, put on something more appropriate for a lady. This female gamekeeper attire is hardly fitting for our guests.”
“But…”
“Go on now—Angela can help you select something suitable. I’m sure Adam will find you more attractive when you are garbed as a woman.”
Miss Marsh shook her head, her irritation obvious. Selton’s cheek had reddened at the mere mention of his name. Once we had stepped into the hall, Miss Marsh and the maid headed for a stairway. Their footsteps echoed slightly off the distant stone ceiling. Sunlight streamed into the hall from the windows, but it was much colder and damper inside. A coal fire off to the side could not warm the center of the room. The heavy rug might have been splendid once, but its reds and purples had faded almost to gray. Massive battered chairs and a sofa seemed puny in so large a space.
Lady Verr swung her long arm and fingers round, twisting them slightly in the process. “The great hall at Diana’s Grove dates to the Tudor era.”
“And what of the ruins nearby?” Holmes asked.
“Oh, some of the stones go back to Celtic times and earlier. The site was used for rituals and sacrifices by the Druids and, before that, by the Neolithic dwellers on the moor.”
Holmes stared at her closely. “And were these offerings for the White Worm?”
“Doubtless. The sacrificial creatures must have been slaughtered, then thrown into the pit. Traditionally the foul odor coming from its depths was attributed to the beast, but there is a more obvious explanation.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Animals now and then must fall into the pit and die. The smell of decomposing flesh can last for days. At any rate, I will gladly show you the site another time, should you wish, but for now, let us see some high points of this splendid example of Tudor architecture.”
The house might have been a beauty at one time, but now seemed only dark, gloomy and cold. Also, if it appeared that way on a bright sunny day, I could imagine what it must be like in the midst of a rainstorm or a winter blizzard. A gallery above the hall had paintings of notable members of the Marsh family, including a fantastical one of Sir Michael with the expired dragon at his side.
One large room had been dedicated to Lady Verr’s beetle collection: the stacks of wooden boxes with glass covers were piled high. On their ends small cards in metal frames had inked notes on the specimens. Her favorite was a collection of “rhinoceros beetles”, enormous horned monstrosities, so large and ferocious-looking they were unbelievable.
Lady Verr noticed me restraining a shudder, and she smiled again. “No, definitely not a naturalist. A shame you cannot appreciate them.” Holmes, of course, found them fascinating. “Did you know beetles are the most common of all insects, Dr. Vernier? That is why I chose to collect them. My deceased husband—God rest his soul—was a diplomat, and we spent nearly twenty years traveling abroad. Everywhere you go, there are beetles. It is never too cold, too hot, too dry, too wet. In almost any place on earth, you will find some type of beetle. There are those who argue that God must have favored beetles, since he made so many of them.”
I could tell that Selton felt exactly as I did about such reflections. She wanted to show us the python, but Selton and I demurred. She opened an oaken door, loosing upon us a blast of warm air and a rank zoo-house smell. We waited in the gallery while she and Holmes went inside.
“You were right,” I said. “She is rather eccentric.” Selton rolled his eyes upward without speaking. “Attractive enough, though,” I murmured. Selton’s brow furrowed, then he looked away.
Holmes came out first. “You really should have a look, Henry. It is a remarkable specimen. The bathtub is a clever touch. The Burmese python does like water, and since it obviously must be confined, this allows it a more natural habitat.”
I smiled ever so slightly and shook my head.
“Well, we must find Diana, and I know I am boring Mr. Selton and Dr. Vernier frightfully. I have some other snakes and a few lizards, including an iguana, which you might like to see another time, Mr. Holmes.”
“I would be delighted.”
We walked along the gallery and started down the stairs. Selton was ahead of me, but he stopped abruptly, and I almost walked into him. Below us was Miss Marsh, transformed, to say the least. A few feet behind her stood the maid in black. Diana had been spared a bustle, but she wore a pale-green silk dress with voluminous skirts and the fashionable “gigot” sleeves which puffed out a
t the shoulders and tapered at the forearms. Her red hair had been bound up and given some semblance of order. Now her pale white neck and face appeared even more slender than those of her aunt. As we descended, she stepped forward, awkwardly—because of pointed-toed shoes with high heels and all those skirts, no doubt. I realized abruptly that she must have put on a corset—which was ridiculous! Why submit a slender young woman to such an unnecessary constraint?
“Well, Adam, I think you are pleased with the results, are you not?”
Selton’s cheeks began to redden again.
“Are you not?” Lady Verr repeated.
Selton seemed in the midst of a great struggle. “She… she… looks very well.”
Miss Marsh’s mouth pulled sideways in a partial smile, away from the cheek with the dimple, and she gave a slight shrug.
Lady Verr shook her head. “Hopeless, hopeless. The young are not trained as we were. Proper dress, proper manners. It is such a battle.” She glanced at the maid. “Well done, Angela. Molto bene. Well, the hall was never comfortable, even in its prime, but there is a drawing room. Perhaps you might care for some tea. Or, as it is nearly noon, you might join us for lunch.”
Holmes bowed slightly. “That is gracious of you, Lady Verr, but we have another appointment this afternoon. Perhaps next time.”
“Well, you cannot rush off quite so quickly, especially with Diana in all her finery. Have some tea and biscuits before you leave. I know it is completely the wrong time, but…”
Holmes bowed again. “Gladly, madam.”
The drawing room was the nicest room we had seen, and a coal fire kept it pleasantly warm. The plush leather chairs and sofa were quite comfortable. A bank of windows let in the sunlight. We were on the opposite side of the house from the entrance, and you could see the green lawn and the vast expanse of the sea. A few puffy white clouds had appeared amidst the blue sky. Because of her bustle, Lady Verr sat perched forward and upright on an upholstered Napoleon-style backless window bench, which had elaborately curving sides of ebony wood. She did most of the talking, although Holmes and I politely chimed in on occasion. We were served tea by the stocky housekeeper with a practical, down-to-earth look. The tall Italian maid in her black dress stood in the corner waiting attentively, her arms crossed, her eyes fixed on Lady Verr.
You could tell Selton was trying not to stare, but his eyes kept returning to Miss Marsh. Her expression was oddly vacant. She did look lovely in the dress. I had wondered earlier about his feelings for the young lady, but they were now obvious—he was also smitten.
We rose at last to leave, and the ladies accompanied us to the front doorway. “You must come again, Mr. Holmes. It is so agreeable to find someone with shared interests in the neighborhood! You have no idea… Sir Nathaniel is a naturalist, it is true, but he is past seventy years old and can be…” She gave a long sigh. “To say ‘tiresome’ would be cruel. No, not exactly that. And should you or Adam grow weary of one another’s company, for whatever reason, you and Dr. Vernier are welcome to stay at Diana’s Grove.”
Selton stared at her as if she were completely mad, but Holmes nodded. “That is very kind of you, Lady Verr. I may well take you up on that offer.” He put on his rough wool walking hat.
Miss Marsh extended her arms, stretching her hands before her, palms up. “Oh, let me come along with you—part of the way, at least!” She gave Selton a stunning smile.
Lady Verr shook her head. “What are you thinking? You cannot go gallivanting about the forest in that dress! You’ll soil it at best, tear it at worst.”
Miss Marsh frowned. “I didn’t want to put it on in the first place—I didn’t!”
“Diana, you are a young lady, and you need to dress like one.”
Miss Marsh shook her head. Her face had begun to pale. “Oh this—this damned dress—this damned…!” She clutched at her belly.
“Diana! What on earth is the matter with you? Please. There are gentlemen present!”
“Oh pardon me,” she moaned.
I recognized the symptoms and stepped quickly forward, seizing her arm. “You must sit down.”
Her eyes stared at me but went suddenly blank. She staggered. “I don’t… feel well.”
“Diana!” Selton exclaimed.
“She will be perfectly all right. Sherlock, her other arm if you please.”
Selton seemed paralyzed. Sherlock and I half led, half dragged her back inside and set her on the sofa. I turned to the maid. “You have laced her up far too tightly—loosen her corset immediately! The poor girl cannot breathe.”
The maid scowled. Lady Verr stepped forward. “Oh dear. The hazards of being a lady. We are still experimenting, you know. I shall see to it.”
Lady Verr was a beautiful woman and her smile was bounteous, but I had had quite enough of her for one day. “Make sure you do.” I made for the door.
“Good day, madam,” Holmes said. We stepped out into the bright sunlight.
“Idiots,” I murmured.
Selton was waiting for us. He stared at me, his anxiety evident. “What is it? Will she be all right?”
“There is no danger. She…”
“What is it? You must tell me! Is it the worm’s curse? I must know!”
“Her corset was far too tight. She could not breathe.”
Selton stared at me, eyes widening, then he took a step back even as the blood rushed into his face.
“Oh, Lord!” I exclaimed. I started down the road.
“Henry!” Holmes was just behind me. “Henry!”
I turned at last. “What?”
His lips flicked upwards at the corners. He glanced back in Selton’s direction. “Be patient. He may look like a giant of a man, but it is only an illusion. Inside… Neither one of them is much more than a child. Can you not remember any occasions of youthful anguish and embarrassment?”
I drew my breath in slowly, and a particularly horrific experience that had taken place when I was fifteen popped suddenly into my head. It was something I had not recalled for years, something I would have gladly kept buried. “Yes. You are right. Forgive me.”
“I admit his obtuseness can be tiresome.”
“As can Lady Verr’s chattering. She is… not to my taste.”
Holmes shrugged. “How odd, since she does resemble Michelle.”
I stared at him. “She does not!”
“Come now, Henry. I’ll grant you that Lady Verr is not quite so tall, nor does Michelle wear spectacles, but their general appearance…”
I shook my head vehemently. “Perhaps in the most superficial ways, but if you spend more than five minutes with them—not in the least. And Michelle has never in her life worn a bustle!”
He laughed. “And Miss Marsh? Is she more to your liking?”
“What is this inquisition?”
“Is she?”
“Well, yes.”
Holmes nodded. “How interesting.”
Three
“What a pleasure, what a great honor, to meet Mr. Sherlock Holmes and…” Sir Nathaniel’s enthusiasm wavered. “And Dr. Vernier.”
Lady Verr had indicated he was in his seventies, and Sir Nathaniel de Salis looked it, although he was clearly in good health. He was slightly stooped with a rounded belly, and the light from the window shone on the curving dome of his bald crown. However, the thick old-fashioned mutton-chop sideburns which came to his jawline and the bushy eyebrows were compensation. Both were salt-and-pepper-colored. Although we were in the country, he wore a double-breasted blue-black frock coat which fell to his knees, the satin lapels and the wool looking a little worn.
Adam Selton held the brim of his hat with his massive fingers. “Now that you have met Mr. Holmes, perhaps I could… I don’t think I am really needed here. Would you mind if I left you?”
“But, Adam!” exclaimed Sir Nathaniel, “surely after having climbed all the stairs to my tower, you will linger a while?”
“I would like to, sir, but I wish to see�
� I must know if Miss Marsh is better.”
Sir Nathaniel beamed and nodded, winking at Holmes and me. “Ah, so it has something to do with Miss Marsh! That is understandable.”
“She almost fainted this morning.”
“Be off with you, then. But first.” He grasped Selton’s arm above the elbow, not even half covering its circumference. “I must tell you gentlemen what a fine, fine lad this is! Alas, I have no children of my own, but if I did, I could wish for none better than young Mr. Selton. His character is of the highest, exemplary in every way, and he has always been most kind to a lonely old man—most kind! He’s as fine a specimen of good, sturdy, English manhood as could ever be found.”
Selton smiled. “You are exaggerating, Sir Nathaniel.”
“Not at all, my boy—not at all. Off with you then. You may entrust the celebrated Mr. Holmes and his companion to my company.”
I shook my head. “Diana’s Grove is a long way to walk.”
Selton shrugged. “Not at all. On my own, I can do it in a little over an hour.” It had taken the three of us forty-five minutes to return from Diana’s Grove to Lesser Hill, and the trek to Doom Tower after lunch had been another forty-five. “I’ll be back by supper.” He nodded, then started down the winding stone staircase.
Sir Nathaniel turned and gestured with his hands at the cases filled with books of all sizes. “As you can see, gentlemen, this is my library.” The shelves stood across from an enormous desk of black oak littered with papers and open volumes. Above it, a bank of weathered, rather dirty windows faced the North Sea. The sun spilled yellow light across the cluttered surface. “I spend much of my day here. Ascending and descending make for my daily constitutional, so to speak. My one major addition to Doom Tower, adding a privy just there—” he pointed at a new-looking door in the corner “—was the wisest ever. Although if I had forgone it, I might be less stout.” He laughed at his joke. “I do still walk a great deal in the countryside, but I have a fondness for the table and for a good port.”
The White Worm Page 5