by Jill Harris
However it was done, the horrifying moth creature who sat on her chest the previous night must have been created in the same way. Smoke, mirrors, and trickery. But why? Who would want to frighten her away? More importantly, who would want to keep the Captain from recovering his full health under her careful ministrations?
Perhaps the Captain himself had set it up, she thought as she rinsed her hands at the basin and dried them on a towel, in order to force her into a compromising position. Perhaps his method of seduction was not charm - which of course was impossible for him. The Captain had brute force, a dry wit, and shouting as part of his social repertoire, but not charm. Instead, perhaps he'd set up someone to play the fool and jump on her chest, hoping to use fear to break her resolve. Her hand flew to her throat.
It was hard to believe he would sink so low. She remained convinced that the Captain was many things, but he was not in the habit of terrifying women into submission. After all, a man as handsome, and rich, as him would have no trouble seducing most ladies between the ages of seventeen and seventy if he so desired.
Maybe it was Hoxley? The manservant might have some twisted agenda to get rid of her, or be playing some other game of which Adeline was not yet aware.
There was always the question of money. That's what Theodora would tell her. If Mr and Mrs Hoxley would benefit from the Captain's will, they might be driving him to an early death in order to benefit. The demon might be an artifice of their creation, an imp or dwarf paid to cause horror in its victims, and it went to the wrong room last night by mistake. Goodness, but the place was packed to the rafters with sinister dramas, and she had walked right into the middle of it.
Truth be told, Adeline wanted the Captain to be innocent. Yet her own desires might be working against her rational mind. An ectoplasmic moth was indeed a curious way to try and dispose of an unwanted person, but a good way of distracting attention from the culprit.
Of one thing she was certain. There was a malignant presence in the house in the form of sickness and malaise, if not downright trickery - and it was up to her, Adeline Winslow, to sort things out, one way or another.
She ran to her trunk and got out the carpet bag with the shock box inside. Today, she would begin her work, before it was too late.
As she went to fix her hair, she was filled with the sense that it was the Captain, not her, who was in danger.
Chapter 30
It was a Sunday, and supposed to be Adeline's day off. A time set aside for her to acclimatise to the house and surroundings, yet In truth, she'd had quite enough of the house already, especially after last night"s debacle. She longed to take a walk down to the sea shore and the town, but this trip would have to be delayed since the mist made the path down the side of the cliff even more treacherous.
For now, she was trapped at Raven's Nest, and so was the Captain.
Adeline tidied her hair in the mirror. As she did so, a slight breeze caused the window to vibrate, like a tapping at the glass. A flash of fear ran through her veins. She glanced in that direction, recalling the sound of the giant moth, flapping its feathery wings in the haze, reaching out its sharp claws to scratch at the glass.
She shivered. The memory of last night's nightmare made her skin prickle. That hideous moth. If it was a trick meant to terrify her, then whoever had conjured such a thing, was an artist of diabolical talent. They had painted its wings with a pattern of skulls. And moulded its snapping beak, its heavy, stinking body, had sat upon her as she slept, squashing her. Her face flushed with heat as the memory was followed quickly by the image of the Captain coming to her room. Firstly, to shout at her for screaming.
After that?
He had wanted to kiss her. Oh, and she had wanted him too. Far more than was proper, but she was no longer a silly chit of a girl and she knew that a man's desire for her meant nothing. In her limited experience, men often wanted to kiss women they didn't like so they could have power over them. More than that, a man often liked a woman against his wishes. Aunt Theodora was an expert on such things and had taught her well.
Adeline had made one mistake with her heart. She was not about to make another.
In fact, Adeline was now of the opinion that no man was worth her kiss unless she liked him very much, and he would definitely have to be in grave danger of falling in love with her. It occurred to her that the Captain might be in such peril. The look in his eyes last night certainly suggested such a catastrophe.
Yet why was she even thinking this way? She frowned at her reflection in the mirror. Could it be that she was beginning to have feelings for the Captain?
It was all very well to muse on love, but it was a serious subject, and one she didn't have the luxury of indulging in at such a point in her life.
That was enough. Adeline shook her head as if to dislodge the Captain from that part of her brain which seemed to linger on him. Her heart beat faster than was comfortable. She paced about the room, brushed an invisible hair from her skirts, chided herself in the way Aunt Theodora would have done.
She knew her Aunt would tell Adeline to stiffen her resolve to remain pure and serene particularly when it came to men like the Captain. In fact, Captain Hughes' attitude and reputation would probably lead her Aunt to nickname him the Captain of Darkness.
Adeline smiled to herself. She would name him thus in her next letter.
With one last tidy up of her things, she swept out of her room, reminding herself that the Captain was in her care, and also her employer. The doctor she had mistakenly given her maidenhood to, was in a similar position. He had employed her to help him with his more difficult patients. It was him who had trained her in the use of the shock box. Nothing would come of a romantic attraction to Captain Hughes.
More importantly, she obviously meant nothing to him.
She remembered how appalled he'd looked when she almost bared her body to him. The fact that he so obviously wanted her, yet also did not want her, was a bad sign. She would be more careful in the future. He could cause her reputation to plummet even further down the social scale, if that were possible.
On the one hand, if she could get closer to him she knew she'd derive a great deal of enjoyment in robustly taking him in hand, sorting him out. There were so many areas of his life that needed improvement. His health, his state of mind, and not to mention his property which could do with a good tidy up including redecoration. And he had an unusual effect on her. In his presence, she became excited, distracted, and somehow more alive than usual.
He, on the other hand, almost certainly felt nothing like the same kind of warmth towards her. He'd probably hate all her suggestions, and would fight her all the way. Also, he wasn't even sure if he wanted her to stay on as his nurse, and he'd probably be even more determined to get rid of her after her dreadful behaviour last night.
She shot herself a warning look in the mirror. Just because she was attracted to him didn't make him right for her. She knew that from experience. Besides, he was a very annoying invalid, and probably more trouble than he was worth. If it ever came down to it.
Yet he needed her help.
She could never desert anyone in trouble.
All she could ever hope for was to win his respect, and Adeline was sure she'd have to fight for that. She put her hand on her heart as a flush of heat crept up from her chest and over her face. Yes, winning his respect would be a difficult task, especially after daring to show so much of herself to him last night.
Chapter 31
Uncertain whether she was truly prepared for the day, Adeline tied her hair in a neat bun, checking her appearance in the mirror. Then she threw the thick red shawl over her shoulders. The fire in her room had died in the grate and her breath came out in pale clouds. Fern-like pattern of frost patterned the windows. She ran her fingers over them, wondering how the Captain had grown into such a robust man having spent his childhood in freezing bedrooms.
Wispy strands of mist hung like cobwebs over the sea, the thin wint
er sunlight giving the restless water a dark grey-green tinge. Adeline listened for a while to the sound of waves thundering on the black rocks below, and her gaze settled on Sea Witch Cove below - where something strange, a dark shape, undulating and sleek, sped through the waters.
Her breath hitched in her throat. What was that? For a while she watched it, her heart galloping with fear. It was hard to tell whether it was real or just a figment of her tired imagination, although as she watched it sliding through the waves towards the rocks beneath her chamber she became more and more convinced it was more than a bundle of seaweed.
When it reached the largest rock breaking the surface of the heaving sea near enough for her to see clearly what it might be, the thing put its head above the water, twitching its whiskers.
Adeline sighed. A seal. Just a common seal, fishing for its morning repast.
On the way downstairs she held up her chin, certain that the smell of eggs and toast was as enticing to the Captain as it was to her. Last night he hadn't eaten much of his food, and a man of his bulk should have a hearty appetite.
Hoxley was waiting at the bottom of the stairs for her.
"Miss Winslow. I heard you slept badly last night?" he said, arching his eyebrows into a questioning glare.
"There was a disturbance," she said, not wishing to say too much about the goings on in her bedchamber during the early hours.
"The master rang for more whiskey early this morning."
"Does he often do that?"
"Not at four in the morning. He told me you saw a girt demon in your room. There's some as would say that seeing a demon is catastrophe. And that's more than a disturbance, if you don't mind me saying it. I'm a man as speaks my mind, and so does the wife. Mrs Hoxley has an opinion that you should leave because according to her, a vision such as you saw is only the beginning. She says it's a sign there's worse to come."
Adeline waved a dismissive hand.
"It was nothing more than a bad dream."
He cocked his head towards the mosaic on the floor of the two headed hires gamos, surrounded by the serpent of wisdom. "A dream is one way of putting it. But if you ask me, it weren't no dream. Not to my mind. I've seem too many shadows grow wings in this house. And it ent as though you're a hefty lass. A big Devon dumpling like Mrs Hoxley might scare a thing like that away, but you're so tiny seems like you'd blow away on the wind." He made a disapproving sound with his tongue whilst running his eyes sadly over her petite stature. "And it seems to my observations, and the wife too, that this demonic visioning is the kind of thing as might send the usual sort of lady, most particularly one as small, and may I say, as physically insignificant as yourself, Miss Winslow, running from the house. No offence meant."
Adeline drew herself up to her full height, which wasn't much over five feet one inch in her boots. "None taken. I'm know I'm small but I have the heart of a lioness. As you've probably gathered by now. I'm not the usual sort of lady." She touched his arm. "But thank you so much for your concern."
"That be fine. And it's true enough what you say. The wife only said this morning that you ent like the other ladies who've tried nursing the master. She's never seen any slip of a girl as fiery as you -nor as quick witted," he said, and then mumbled something about hoping she'd enjoy her breakfast since he'd made it himself.
Annoyed about the fact that the Captain had told Hoxley about her nightmare, Adeline stomped towards the breakfast room. Of course, she couldn't blame the manservant for wanting to help her. For all his gruffness, ugliness, and sneering, Hoxley was a good man, and so was his enormous wife.
Not for the first time in her life, Adeline wished she was more statuesque like Mrs Hoxley. It would certainly make claiming her place in the world a whole lot easier. However, none of that mattered when it came to the situation surrounding the Captain.
When it came to keeping one's head in the face of supernatural nonsense, Adeline was certain she could be counted as a giant among men.
Chapter 32
So that was it. The Captain was superstitious as well as supercilious. Adeline tossed her head, reminding herself not to show her annoyance with the Captain when she saw him, and followed Hoxley down the east corridor of the lower floor, towards the the breakfast room.
The room itself was shrouded in the same grey light as her bedchamber, due to the thickening mist, which had grown to such depths it was now obscuring every view from the windows. Unlike the dining room last night, which had a musty, unused feel about it - the breakfast room seemed worn, and the carpet worn threadbare with footsteps.
A large gilt-framed painting of a dead stag, an arrow protruding from its flank, hung forlornly over the mantelpiece on the far wall. Below it, a lively fire crackled and spat.
Adeline swept over to the silver platters lined up on an oak table against the back wall, lifted the lids to inspect what turned out to be cold porridge, even colder scrambled eggs, cold toast, and greasy bacon.
"The Captain has eaten?" she said, turning to Hoxley.
"Not yet Miss. He ent come out of the library yet."
"I would ask that fresh food be prepared. If it's not too much trouble."
Hoxley put the lids back on and lifted one of the platters. "No trouble at all. Just to warn you though, it might take a while, I'm afraid. See, I don't have my wife to help. She's gone to the church to pray for you soul in case you're doomed as many are who come to this place."
"That's terribly kind of her. Please assure her on her return that I am not doomed, and have no intention of meeting a terrible end. Now, if you could fetch the Captain some freshly scrambled eggs and fried bacon I would be forever grateful."
"The master never eats till after midday."
Adeline rolled up her sleeves and plopped a pat of butter and a slice of cold toast onto a plate decorated with the hieros gamos, which must, she decided, be some sort of a family crest. "That's as may be. But he is my patient. And he needs proper meals. And I've no doubt that you are as capable of providing for him as dear Mrs Hoxley. Last night's meal, by the way, was a triumph. Not even the best restaurants in London could top that. I trust you can prepare another batch of warm food without much ado?"
Hoxley scratched his chin, his sneer warmer than usual. "No trouble at all, Miss."
At that moment, the door flew open. The Captain, his face a picture of barely repressed rage, limped into the room. His hair stuck up in places, as though he spent the rest of the night raking his hands through it. He scowled first at Hoxley, then at Adeline.
Confound the woman. Captain Branwell Hughes felt a heated surge of anger rising. Was he not master of his own home any more? He hadn't slept a wink the entire night because of her.
It had been left to him to stalk the house keeping watch on the wayward demon as it flitted from room to room, obviously searching once more for Adeline. Finally, at dawn, he'd fallen asleep slumped in his chair, only to be woken by Adeline's loud footsteps outside his door. Damn the woman, how such a small person could make so much noise was a total mystery to him. He'd lurched up and limped to the breakfast to find her, hoping to ensure she'd recovered her delicate feminine sensibilities from the previous night's ordeal with a dreadful headache blossoming behind his eyes.
He'd expected her to be a little confused and shocked, and in need of some masculine reassurance - which he was willing to provide.
Branwell couldn't have been more wrong about Miss Winslow's state of mind if he tried. Approaching the breakfast room all he could hear was her voice trilling on about porridge as if nothing else mattered.
"What the blazes is going on?" he said, his voice thundering in his head. "Miss Winslow, you've been here less than a day, yet already you seem to be of the opinion that you can give orders to my servants. Am I right?"
Her face lit up when she smiled. And smile she did, as soon as she saw him. Perhaps she was laughing at him, at his pathetic attempts to help her last night. At his miserable efforts to resist fumbling with her attire wh
en she needed him to be level-headed.
"I was merely ordering you a hot breakfast," she said. "It's my duty as your nurse to ensure your body is nourished."
His eyes narrowed. "I'm quite capable of eating when I need to. And I never eat breakfast. Tell her Hoxley."
Hoxley raised his eyebrows. "I've already explained this, sir. No breakfast for the Captain, I said. Not since you came back from the dead, sir. Although it was all very different when you was a boy. You'd wolf down every meal, and Mrs Hoxley thought you might explode your stomach if you carried on like that."
"Did you know breakfast is the most important meal of the day?" Adeline said turning her delightful, intelligent, hazel-eyed gaze upon him.
Despite his bristling attempt at anger, Branwell felt his heart soften when he glanced at her. The realisation of her effect on him scared him a great deal, even more than the demon creeping round his house. An invasion from legions residing in the pits of hell was nothing compared to the sunshine lighting him up as he basked in the presence of a woman like a bloody fool. This would not do. The last woman he gave his heart to twisted his soul into pieces, and when he was on his knees, she threw what was left of his heart on the ground and ground it under the heel of her boot.
Branwell swallowed hard and attempted to sound normal. "Are you well this morning?"
"Very much so," she said. "I'm expecting to dress your wound later on today."
"That can wait," he said curtly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. The headache was like knives digging into his eyeballs. He needed to get back to his dark study, draw the curtains, lie on the floor. Above all, he needed to get a hold of himself.