The Lady in Yellow Page 4

  “Stay out! Miss Everly!”

  “Miss Everly?” the lady cried. “Who is she? Another woman is in my house? Who is it, Madam Twig? Ahhhh!!!!” The cry was heart-wrenching.

  The lady beat the door with the force of thunder that reverberated all the way up to Veronica’s room.

  “You shall not enter here Sovay Lembron de la Flamme. I will block you if it’s the last thing I do.”

  “I’m here,” said Veronica from the stairs. She stared at the crack in the door as it closed hard against Sovay, but not fast enough to prevent one green eye making contact with Veronica’s.

  Mrs. Twig pushed the door shut, turned several locks securely, then spun about to face Veronica. Her face was set hard.

  “You must help me with something. I want you to get the groom, Mr. Cobb, to lock the children’s windows from the outside.”

  The wind seemed to cyclone around the house, smashing branches down from the trees.

  “Where is he?”

  “He should be in the cottage beyond the stables. Go through the house and find the service door at the far end of the servants’ quarters. You’ll see the lane to Pitchfork Cottage. Hurry.”

  Veronica hurried down the hallway to the back of the house. She’d never been to the servants’ quarters. Two stately drawing rooms away, she came to a flight of stairs going down to a narrow corridor with closed doors on either side. Its austerity was a shock to her system after the luxurious glamour of the rest of the house. A door at the end opened into the servants’ kitchen. Veronica put up her hood expecting to be blown by the wind, but when she stepped outside, the air was warm and perfectly still. She hurried down the lane to a row of tiny cottages until she found the one marked Pitchfork Cottage.

  Mr. and Mrs. Cobb were shouting at each other. A baby was crying. Veronica knocked timidly on the door. It burst open and out wafted the strong smell of whiskey and the burly frame of Mr. Cobb.

  “Well?”

  “We need you to lock the twin’s balcony windows on the outside,” Veronica said. “There are some very dramatic things going on at the house.”

  Mr. Cobb called back to his wife. “Hold that thought, darling. I’ll be back shortly.”

  “I’ll be here,” a woman’s rasping voice answered.

  Veronica had all she could do to keep up with the groom as he strode down the lane toward the front of Belden House. Then he turned a corner, and headed in the direction of the tower. Veronica slowed her pace to a standstill under the moon struck tower, and looked up at the window slits. She was compelled to cross herself and pray, for mournful snarls and howls echoed around inside the stones, melting her very bones with dread. Some giant beast was captured there, growling and thrusting itself against iron bars hidden in the ivy that shrouded the window. Its strength was such that the stones of the window ledge began crumbling to dust.

  A wild, banshee-like howling went up, full of rage against the world.

  The agony in that sound took Veronica’s breath away. What wild creature sent those cries out on the wind? Why did Rafe want to be locked in there with it?

  “Surely he’s been torn apart by now. Mr. Cobb!”

  There was a cry as of a man falling. Veronica hurried towards the sound and saw Mr. Cobb lying on the ground below a long ladder. She looked up at the twins balcony and saw Sovay de Grimston standing at the top of the ladder, staring down at her with such malevolence that Veronica fell to her knees. Sovay’s face did not look human. So pale, so bright it was, that her eyes looked black. When Veronica crossed herself, Sovay turned and passed through the open French windows into the children’s bedchambers.

  Veronica leaned over gently slapped the groom’s face. “Mr. Cobb, are you all right?” He didn’t revive. “Mr. Cobb…Mr. Cobb… Please!”

  She laid her ear on his heart, felt for his pulse, and found nothing. Even his whiskey breath was gone. She glanced around, wishing there was someone who could help, and instead saw the slim white dog leap across the path of moonlight to be joined by another and another. Soon more white canines were howling and running down the lawn to join the pack.

  “They’re wolves. They look like wolves. Come on Mr. Cobb. Wake up. We’ve got to get out of here.”

  She tried to drag him, but he was too heavy for her.

  “Oh, please wake up. What do I do? Mrs. Twig!”

  Veronica gave up and ran for the house. She dashed up to her rooms. Passing the children’s doors, she wanted to go in, but was afraid of what she might unleash. The dog was growling softly behind the door. Sovay was in there, singing to it.

  “Mrs. Twig! Mrs. Twig!” Veronica ran down the stairs.

  There were weird sounds and noxious smells coming from the kitchen, black smoke seeping out of the crack between the closed double doors. Veronica barged through them and found Mrs. Twig half naked, her red hair all unfurled, sweating and reeling over a brazier of smoldering coals. The entire room was cloaked in heavy clouds of smoke that reeked of wolfbane. The housekeeper was rubbing oil all over a doll of yellow wax, and muttering in French some freakish, incantatory rhyme. In the lurid haze of the fire and wavering shadows, she looked savage, mad, possessed. Her eyes rolled up in her head as if she was seeing things that weren’t meant to be seen As she held the doll in the smoke, green flames licked out from it, prompting Mrs. Twig to raise the doll up and shout, “It is finished!” Then she cast it into the flames.

  On the table was a large open book and the two white dolls of the twins’ lying side by side like miniature corpses. The smoke wafted poisonously around Veronica. She began coughing, but half out of her mind, lost in the world of spirits, Mrs. Twig didn’t seem to hear her.

  The howling of wolves grew louder and more fierce. Groans thundered down from the tower, filling the kitchen. Fire and candles flared and juddered dangerously high. Still Mrs. Twig continued her incantations, holding Jack’s dolls over the brazier. Soon, both dolls were writhing in her hands like souls in torment. Veronica couldn’t take it any more. She backed out, shut the kitchen doors, and leaned against them until they stopped rattling.

  What about the children? Sovay! And Mr. Cobb? He was lying out there with a pack of wolves on the rampage. Was there a doctor somewhere? Anywhere? Veronica put her hands over her face, and contemplated the long walk to the village. They'd all be dead by the time she got there. the chorus of the wolves, went up high and clear as a entire pack of banshees in the night. The clock gonged the hour of four.

  She raced through moving shadows up to her room and looked out at the sky. The moon was down. Soon, the old bell in the ruin began its slow, tuneless tolling. The very earth seemed to shiver.

  Somehow she knew she had only to wait until dawn.

  Chapter 6

  *

  Of course the twins did not show up for class the next day. Wanting to avoid to Mrs. Twig after what she’d seen, Veronica stayed alone in the classroom and prayed she would not be disturbed.

  There was that book in the desk drawer still. The one she didn’t feel right about opening. Had her predecessor been witness such goings on? Veronica drew open the drawer and groped underneath her black velvet missal and her ledger book, for the journal.

  She drew it out and opened it to an early page.

  She’s so jealous of me, but for no reason. Mr. Rafe could never prefer a plain girl like I am to one such as Lady de Grimston, but I don’t know how much longer I can stand her barbarous attempts to hurt me.

  Was Sovay so jealous then?

  Veronica turned to a further page. A newspaper cutting was stuck into the binding: an engraving of a wolf standing in a field. Below it was the headline: Farmer’s Lad Found Dead in Field. It seemed his throat had been torn out. The governess had written with a trembling hand:

  A child from the village was found ravaged by a wolf during the night. But there are no wolves left in Britain. So they say. Yet, Janet told me that this is not an unusual occurrence. It has happened off and on for years……

 
She turned the page again.

  I should not write of this, but I must get it off my chest somehow.

  I caught Sylvie crouching over a dead hare in the classroom today. It was bleeding all over the carpet. When I shouted at her, she turned around and ------ I can’t say it. I thought, for a brief moment, that she had the face of a white wolf. But it’s not possible. Anyway she jumped up and slammed the door shut in my face before I could get a really good look at her. Perhaps the tension in this house is just getting to me. I can only pray I am not going mad.

  Then below:

  I had to take the carpet up today. I had Mr. Cobb take it to the stables. It should be burned. I have an unspoken agreement with Sylvie that we shall never speak of the incident with the hare. Her mother is on verge of sacking me anyway. I can tell.

  Veronica flipped a few pages and found:

  The moon is full tonight. They shall be all be gone, except for Mr. Rafe and Mrs. Twig, I will have some time to myself to decide what to do.

  Next:

  I know I should not commit this to paper, but I have discovered where the children get off to every full moon. Mrs. Twig locks them in the tower. I heard them howling like right lunatics. Such is the legacy of aristocratic inbreeding. They can’t help it, poor things.

  Swallowing hard, Veronica flipped to the very last page that had any writing on it.

  Sylvie was shot by a farmer last night who swore he was aiming at a wolf. I can no longer stay here.

  Veronica shut the book and hid it back in the drawer. She was shaking. The classroom wasn’t cozy any more. The yews seemed to scream at her. She hurried out and stood on the landing, then crept out to the hallway. The door to Rafe’s bed chamber was ajar.

  He called out to her. “Come in Miss Everly.”

  Veronica peered through the crack in the door. He was clad only in his dressing gown, his thick bronze-gold hair standing up, his hairy chest exposed.

  “How did you know I was here?” she asked.

  “I heard you. I felt your presence. Haven’t you noticed how sounds carry in this house? And smells. Come all the way in, Miss Everly. You’re such a timid lass.”

  Rafe beckoned Veronica forward. When she stepped into the room, she saw he was polishing the gun. She stared at it and could not stop shaking.

  “What is that for, Sir?”

  “Rafe.”

  “I mean, what is that for Rafe?”

  “Have you been reading your Bestiary?”

  “A little. Things went a bit haywire around here last night and I didn’t have much of a chance.”

  “Did you look on the page I had marked for you?”

  “Lupus?”

  “Yes. Do you see these bullets? They are made of silver. I want you to have this gun. I aim to teach you to shoot. If you ever see a wolf on my property, I want you to kill it. Shoot it only with these silver bullets.”

  “But, Sir----I mean, Rafe, I’ve never killed anything before. I’m only a school mistress.”

  “I don’t want to hear it. Here. Hold the gun.”

  Rafe handed the pistol to Veronica. It was solid and very heavy. She grasped the handle with both hands and aimed it at the mirror, surprised at the dramatic change it made in her appearance. Rafe grabbed her wrist.

  “You’re damned small-boned. We’ll try you firing it with two hands, but if it kicks too hard, I’ll have to find a smaller gun for you. A ladies pistol. This one could break your arm.”

  “What are those wolves, Rafe? What have they got to do with you and the children? What about Sovay? Did you know Mr. Cobb died trying to shut the children’s windows? You must tell me what’s going on,” Veronica said.

  “Cobb? Was he responsible for that blood in the grass?”

  “His body---“

  “Is gone.”

  “There was a pack of white wolves...”

  Rafe looked at Veronica intently, gazed into her eyes, then looked away. He closed his dressing gown, tightened the sash.

  “Miss Everly. I have to make myself decent. Came back to my rooms in an hour. It seems I shall have to explain some things to you.”

  ****

  Veronica avoided the kitchen and went outside. As much as the very thought was distasteful to her, she had to see for herself about Mr. Cobb. She went around the tower and looked down the lawn to the place she’d left him lying and saw, indeed, that his body was gone and the grass in that area was dark. Perhaps he’d only been injured. Perhaps he’d just gotten up and gone home. Why did everything have to be so dire?

  Veronica turned around in time to see Jacqueline marching towards the woods. She checked the impulse to call out, and walked nonchalantly behind the curve of the tower to see where the child went. She hooked her fingers in the ivy for support and looked up the side of the tower. Directly above her, the window of the beast spilled over with darkness. Rafe had been in there. With that monster. She swallowed hard. Her stomach felt like lead. How had he managed to come out alive? Unable to put two thoughts together, she turned away. Some ideas were just not allowed. Rafe would explain. He said he would.

  A snatch of song floated over the air from the woods.

  Green grow the lilies, oh, bright among the bushes, oh…

  Veronica crept towards the woods and entered the trees. Jacqueline was sitting beside the wishing well hanging one of the white china dolls by its feet from a birch branch that stretched out over the water. Veronica glided closer and hid behind a tall bush above the mossy hummock so she could see down into the well. The doll was reflected in the surface of the water, but below that, in the murky depths, were other dolls floating face up like little drowned corpses. They looked as if they’d been weighed down with stones heavy enough to sink them but not out of sight.

  Jacqueline leaned over the well and stared into her own reflection.

  “Sylvie, and Nelly and Tom. Jack is to join you. He’s hidden in a leafy fort. I covered it with juniper limbs and rose briars. That way they can’t fetch him out and lock him away forever in a silver coffin like they’ve done to Sylvie.”

  Jacqueline stroked the dangling china doll with her finger, and then lowered it below the rim of the well stones. She bent towards the water and blew a kiss.

  “That’s for you, Jack. The waters of the magic wellspring will wash your soul clean.” She began singing again. One is buried under the stones, Three are buried beneath the tree….

  Slowly, Jacqueline lowered the doll into the water, until it was completely immersed.

  Four are buried in the well, the well below the valley, oh….Green grow the lilies oh, Bright among the bushes oh…

  The eerie tune of the old folksong followed Veronica all the way back to the house, verse after verse, after verse.

  She had to find Jacques. As she approached the door she saw a big-boned, tearful woman with a baby in her arms standing in the forecourt, staring at the door as if it had been slammed in her face. Veronica paused, unable to cope with Mrs. Cobb’s grief. She waited until the woman walked away, carrying her sobbing child towards the cottages.

  Coming in the door, she ran straight into Mrs. Twig.

  “Did you find Mr. Cobb?” she asked.

  “No. Miss Everly. I must explain last night to you,” Mrs. Twig said.

  Veronica tried to brush past her, but Mrs. Twig grabbed her arm.

  “You look rather tidy and well rested considering the night you’ve had.” Veronica was surprised at her own bluntness. “I have to find Jacques.”

  Mrs. Twig looked at the floor. “I am sorry, Miss Everly. I’m sure you had no idea what awaited you at Belden House.’

  “That’s an understatement. I saw Mrs. de Grimston go into the children’s rooms last night,” Veronica said. “After she knocked Mr. Cobb off the ladder to get in. I must hurry. She may be there still.”

  “Miss….Sovay de Grimston could not get in. The children have strict instructions…”

  “Well, they must have disobeyed, because she did get in.”
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  “It’s not possible.”

  “It is!”

  “She is not a living woman,” said Mrs. Twig.

  “What?”

  “She’s dead. She’s been dead for three years,” said Mrs. Twig.

  Veronica stared, remembering the coffin, the almost palpable presence glittering up from the darkness. But she’d seen Sovay alive! Perhaps the body in the coffin was someone else….

  “That’s impossible. You can see her, “ Veronica stammered. “And so can I.”

  “Yes, but only in a certain light. At twilight, or in moonlight.”

  “But she has strength. I’ve heard her pounding on the door.” Veronica shouted. “I’ve seen you struggle to keep her out. I’ve heard you talking to her. I heard her say she’d been buried alive, and escaped.”

  Mrs. Twig looked embarrassed. “She must never be allowed in, Miss. Must never be. The twins know that. They know better than to disobey that particular order.”

  “I’m sorry to lose my temper, but I am extremely upset after last night,” said Veronica. “What is she? What is this house?”

  “Lady de Grimston is…dead, Miss Everly. Did you not see the birch bark hat that she wears?”

  Veronica remembered the children at the well with the same peculiar hats on.

  “What about it?”

  “It’s a sign of the dead, Miss. Worn by they that have come from beyond the grave.”

  Mrs. Twig was trying Veronica’s patience. Always speaking in riddles!

  “Then why is she still walking around, Mrs. Twig?”

  “That is why Mr. Rafe ordered the silver coffins. Once the body is sealed in there, she will stop.”

  “I don’t understand….I just know I’m very frightened for the twins.”

  “Have you seen them this morning?”

  “I just saw Jacqueline at the well. She was hanging one of those dolls from a branch. Lowering it into the water----singing and saying cryptic things about her brother. I must find him.”

  “Putting a doll in the well? The little scamp must have gotten hold of it early this morning, I must go upstairs with you, Miss Everly.”