by Lenore, Lani
Perhaps she was not like Christian; she indeed did have emotions. She felt anger towards her family and the dying woman upstairs. She felt sadness for her father’s death and that he’d had to suffer as he did. She was angry because of her misfortune. Why did it all have to be? It was wrong for someone to lose everything that they loved and get nothing they wanted!
Cindy sank down to the floor beside the mahogany desk. She reached up to touch her short hair, running her hands through it and then wrapping her arms around herself in a hug. She was her only comfort.
Hearing a door open above, Cindy turned her face upward to see Amanda step out of the shadows and walk to the banister. She looked down at Cindy with no expression, silent for a few moments before opening her mouth to speak.
“It’s over,” Amanda said quite simply. “She’s dead.”
Chapter Nine
1
“Did you hear about Anna Madison?”
“Yes, I hear she’s died! Quite suddenly! What was wrong with her again?”
“No one is certain. It happened so quickly. Some say that she was bewitched.”
“Bewitched? Ha! She was the devil already!”
“It’s quite wrong to talk about her like this – now that she’s dead.”
“I suppose. Still, I wonder what killed her. She never seemed to have any ailments.”
“I’m going to see the doctor tomorrow and make sure there is nothing wrong with me.”
“Good idea. No sense taking chances…”
As Anna had always desired, she had finally become the hottest topic of the Greenhaven gossip circle.
2
Isabella sat beside the fireplace in the parlor, taking in all the heat she could. Winter was already sending its warnings as the end of November approached. The girl was taking her mother’s death well – considering that none of her plans were coming off as she had wanted.
It was true that her mother had wanted Christian dead only a few short years after marriage. Beyond that, they would move away from here and right onto the next which would be the last and they would have enough for all they'd ever wanted.
Isabella was having none of that. She wanted Christian for herself, and even now that her mother was dead, her true desire was not even possible. He had chosen another and Isabella was infuriated. No matter. Everything would fall into her hands soon enough, as she would make it so. She had inherited a conniving spirit from her mother, at least.
That did not mean that there weren’t problems.
Charlotte was becoming harder to control, getting too emotional about the loss of their mother. She was stuck fast to their mother’s plans. Death could not separate them. Charlotte was under the impression that mother had been right about everything, and that if they did not follow her plans exactly, they were in for trouble. Did Charlotte honestly think they would get caught? No one knew what was going on. No one had suspected foul play at all when Charles Madison had taken his place in the graveyard – and neither would anyone be suspicious of the coming events – especially if others also took their place in the grave because of the strange illness.
The girl smiled to herself as she sat. It was all too perfect. Still, she had an unsettling feeling. The woman staying in the house troubled her greatly. Since her mother’s passing, Amanda Jefferson had still not left. Isabella was sure that she was the cause of her mother’s death. It was either poisoning or witchcraft, and Isabella wanted neither. She would have to get the woman out soon, or it would mean peril for her and her sister.
Charlotte was off to their mother’s gravesite now. The funeral had been earlier that morning, and since there was no longer a mortuary, the body had simply been placed in the coffin and dumped into the earth. The affair had been private as to cover up any suspicions that the van Burrens were not wealthy enough to hold an elaborate service. No fancy funeral for Anna – no weeping eyes. Too, too bad.
Isabella took a deep breath and rested her head against the chair’s back. All she could do now was wait.
3
“The deed is done,” said Amanda, “and that is one. One victim of prophecy, fallen to a strange illness.”
Cindy nodded her head, looking up from the bed on which she sat. They were in the room Amanda had been given, and from which she had no intention of leaving. She had even taken a few things from Anna’s room, including some of the woman’s finer clothes. Amanda was shameless.
“There are seven openings left,” Cindy said with a bit of worry. “How can we be sure that everything will fall properly?”
Amanda turned back with a serious gaze. “You must listen. Rest in knowing that we are working through this together and will avenge your father. Then, even if you are one of the chosen eight, you will be with him in heaven.”
“I will go to heaven even for participating in witchcraft?” Cindy asked.
“You are not doing witchcraft,” she said. “I am doing witchcraft. And don’t worry. My soul is not going into hellfire. I have no fear of it.”
“How can you be certain?” she asked.
Cindy was not a fool. Even though she had not been allowed to show her face at weekly church services, she knew what was taught. Everything they were doing was completely against heaven.
“God will judge,” Amanda said, “and with his good graces, the righteous will be delivered out of the mouth of hell.”
Cindy nodded and sighed, trying to calm herself.
“Next you must do something for me,” Amanda said, turning toward the girl with her hollow eyes.
“What?” asked Cindy, awaiting her request.
“You must now bring me something of your sister, Isabella’s. I sense that she is to be a threat in the near future. We must get rid of her quickly.”
Cindy nodded, glad to hear such a notion.
“I will get something to you tonight,” she promised.
Amanda walked to the desk beside the bed where several candles were lit. The smoke filled the air and strange aromas danced about.
“So tell me what you think of Christian’s choice of making a farm girl his wife. Are you distressed?”
“I - I cried when no one was looking,” admitted Cindy, though she never would have said it to anyone else. “But how could I weep for that? I hate myself for it. I hardly know him!”
“Sometimes you don’t have to know a man to know that you love him. Sometimes it comes with a simple glance,” Amanda said.
Cindy shook her head and fell back against the bed. The blue coverings gathered around her.
“I don’t believe it.”
“You don’t believe what you feel is love?” Amanda asked, spreading some sort of powder across the desk.
“I’m trying to forget it. All I want is to avenge my father and free myself. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
Amanda took a deep breath of the smoky air but said nothing else
“Cindy!” The call came from downstairs.
She sat up from the bed quickly and walked from the room to keep Amanda’s secrets locked inside. Moving to the banister, she peered down into the room below. There, looking up at her, was Isabella.
“I’m sorry,” Cindy said curtly. “Did you want something?”
“I need you to go into town for me, Cinderella. There are a few things that Charlotte and I need.”
“You told me yesterday that you didn’t want me out of the house. Now you are asking me to leave?”
“Don’t contradict me!” Isabella shouted. “Just go get ready. There will be a list for you on the table when you come down.”
Cindy stared with a straight face but then finally resolved to turn. Isabella was up to something, but she wasn’t sure what it could be. Why keep Cindy shut away for three years to let her out on a whim? Cindy felt that it would not do to object to the request of going to market. If she didn’t go, chances were that she would never find out what her sisters were plotting. Besides, Amanda was there to keep an eye on things. Cindy had nothing to fe
ar.
4
“What do you think of this one, Christian?” asked Samantha Charming, looking at a black vest of a different design.
She had taken her son and his wife-to-be down to the tailor, who was to fit them with their wedding attire. Samantha was quite distraught to see that Christian was hardly showing any interest.
“Christian,” Samantha called sternly, trying to get his attention.
The man turned his face slowly from the window, looking back at Mr. Henderson, the tailor, who held up the vest.
“That looks exactly like the first one,” he said flatly.
The woman sighed in annoyance but tried to remain calm in front of the others present.
“It isn’t the same one,” she assured him harshly.
“Just pick something out, mother,” he said. “It matters not to me. Have the servants lay out the clothes and tell me what time to be at the altar.”
“Why can’t you ever just cooperate?” she hissed through her teeth, fanning herself in her frustration.
“I thought I was cooperating,” he said. “I picked a girl, like you wanted.”
Samantha shook her head again. Why could he have not been like his brothers?
Christian turned back to face the tall mirror before him. He looked at the clothes that his mother had already suggested he try. He looked at the black vest with the gold buttons that now adorned his torso and then gazed back at the other that the tailor held. He would still swear that they were the same.
“What do you think of this dress, Samantha?” came the voice of Sarah Thompson, Morgana’s mother.
Samantha motioned for Christian to turn and not look, but she had forgotten that turning around would lead him to look straight at the tall mirror.
Morgana stepped out of the back wearing the dress of pure white. The color almost made him sick; so few women could honestly wear it. The dress fit her nicely, pulling in her average waist and accentuating her ample breasts. The girl was attractive in a homely kind of way. She actually looked quite like her cousin – only shorter. Christian had nearly convinced himself that she would make an acceptable wife, but mostly he was proud that he was kept from marrying either one of the van Burren girls, despite them being in the top favor of his mother – especially after their own poor mother had died and they were left all alone.
I can't be bothered with that. Nothing matters now.
Christian let his eyes trail back to the window. On the street, he saw a small woman dressed in green with a brown shawl pulled over her head and shoulders. She was gathering items into a basket at one of the open shops. Funny, she reminded him of Cindy, but he could only see the girl from behind so he did not fully recognize her.
He stared on at her out the window for a few brief moments before he quickly turned away. The girl on the street was not Cindy. She couldn’t be. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. He should just try not to think about it.
He had been trying to forget about the girl in the house on the hill by being angry with her, and even prayed that she would never come back to him for help, as he’d told her. Though he wanted it greatly, he did not think he could bear it. If he was to see her again, he was afraid it would have to be her as his bride or otherwise he would refuse to marry at all.
He turned his back fully on the window and went back to examining the two identical vests before him. Cindy was gone from his life, just as she had vanished behind the door as a stubborn fifteen-year-old, and just as she had vanished from existence for three years, and just as she had disappeared into the dark the night before. He would simply have to accept his misfortune and move on with his unhappily married life with someone else.
He glanced at the vest behind him, and then tugged at the one he was wearing.
“Show me something else,” he commanded.
5
Cindy carried the basket back towards the house. She had borrowed an old green dress from her sister’s closet so as not to be dressed in rags in the marketplace. Isabella had fussed about her dirty attire. Cindy had also made sure that her short hair was tucked beneath her head wrapping. Having short hair would only draw attention that she didn’t want. Only poor and disgraced women cut their hair to sell. They would also think that about her.
Glad that her outing was over, Cindy looked towards the house on the hill, and for the first time in her life, could not wait for the second she would step foot back inside. There was something strange in the atmosphere today and Cindy had received one-too-many odd looks. She sought the frightening refuge the house could offer her.
Walking along the street, she came to the crossing of roads that lead to the hill gate - but stopped in her tracks at the sight there at the crossing. Several people had gathered from the street into a circle, yelling and waving angry fists with words she could not hear.
A wave of dread rushed over her. Something wasn’t right. What was happening? She looked around, locating a nearby woman who had stopped to look on at the forming crowd.
“What’s going on?” Cindy asked her.
“They’ve arrested a witch,” she said quietly, almost as though it was a devilish thing to say by itself.
Thousands of thoughts rushed at Cindy, but somehow the only one that made sense was the one she dreaded most. She immediately dropped her basket and ran towards the crowd of angry people. She pushed her way through and after shoving and ignoring the angry protests from some, she finally came upon the scene. She shook her head in anger and confusion. How could this be?
“Hold her tightly, boys,” said a gruff male voice. “Take her to the courthouse. We’re sure to get a confession out of her.”
Cindy stared on as Amanda was jerked through the crowd of gawking people. Only a select few dared be near her, but they dragged her through the street as though she was a dog. The tightness of their grips left bruises on her pale skin. Her nose was bloodied. The woman’s tired black eyes trailed toward Cindy from inside her bruised face.
Cindy stared, feeing a sudden blood-rush to her head. This couldn’t be happening! She slumped to the ground and placed her fingers in the dirt to keep herself from passing out. The crowd moved slowly past her, only some of them looking down at her before they passed by.
Cindy took several deep breaths, but sadly they did nothing to calm her. What was she to do now? Amanda was her only hope. How could they have known? This must have been Isabella and Charlotte’s doing!
Rage filled the girl’s eyes as she shot from the ground despite her heavy head and blindly raced back to the house on the hill. Those van Burrens would not get away with this!
She burst into the house, quite hot and out of breath from her run, but she was too angry to notice. The front parlor was vacant, but she could hear her sisters’ noises from the dining room. Pushing her way inside, she was met with the straight faces of her sisters, both sitting at the table, awaiting her return.
“You’re finally back, I see,” said Isabella without emotion.
“How could you do that?” Cindy screamed, holding back nothing. “She was an innocent woman!”
“She was a witch,” corrected Isabella coldly. “It had to be done.”
“She did nothing to you!” Cindy defended.
“Only because I didn’t give her the chance!” Isabella screamed back at her. “If it weren’t for dear Charlotte’s return home to hear your conversation with her, I may have been dead by now! You were going to give her something of mine so she could put a curse on me, weren't you? We would have sent you with your friend, but then I thought simply keeping you here would be the better punishment. Consider it mercy.”
“You can’t keep me here!” shouted Cindy. “I can’t believe I’ve stayed this long! I wouldn’t have if I didn’t think it was what my father wanted!”
“You’re forgetting something,” said Charlotte.
“She’s right,” Isabella said with an evil smile. “You are forgetting something.”
“What is that?” Cindy seet
hed. Her fists were clenched so tightly that her ragged nails pinched her palms.
“Everyone thinks Cindy Madison is gone,” Charlotte explained.
“That’s right, little sister,” said Isabella. “Cindy Madison is in Massachusetts, married off. As far as the locals are concerned, your name is Ivy Richardson, a servant girl and orphan – and we practically own you.”
“You bitch,” Cindy growled, shaking her head and clenching her fists.
“That’s not a proper attitude for a servant,” said Charlotte said laughingly.
“Correct again, Charlotte. She’ll have to learn better. Oh yes,” she said suddenly in remembrance, “we will be going on an outing tonight. Do make sure you do all of your chores before we return.”
“I will not do this any longer!” Cindy shouted, taking a few steps closer.
Isabella stepped back in a wave of exaggerated panic and grabbed a knife off the table.
“Back, witch!” she threatened. “Perhaps I haven’t made myself clear. You will do as I say.”
“You’re a fraud!” Cindy muttered.
“What did you say, witch?”
“I know your secrets,” she said darkly, and behind Isabella, Cindy saw Charlotte go pale.
“And I know of yours, witch – so what?” demanded the blond girl.
Charlotte glanced back and forth between them in silent worry, but Cindy knew her secret was more important, and she had been waiting since the moment she'd discovered it to confront them with this.
“It’s sad what you’d do for money,” said Cindy, the words rolling out of her mouth like black water. “It was your mother who suggested the Charmings to you, and you went for the bait. She wanted his money – and though I suspect you wanted more than that, you were going to go along with her plan. You were going to kill him for it!”