The Victorian Gothic Collection: Volumes 1-3 Page 27

  “There will. And if I can manage it, I will have her quietly admitted to the same asylum where mother is.”

  “And the child… whether or not it’s mine, we have some responsibility to it, don’t you think?”

  Eldren considered his answer and then said firmly. “It will be cared for. I will see to it.”

  “But not here?”

  “It isn’t a cold choice, or an unfeeling one. I would not condemn any child to live in this house, Warren. We will be certain that it has a good life in a place where it will not have to be afraid of every shadow. Do you remember that feeling as a child?”

  Warren laughed, but it was not an expression of humor. “I remember that feeling from a few hours ago, Eldren. I am not in disagreement.”

  “I will see you this afternoon,” Eldren stated again and left the room. He returned to his bed chamber and found Adelaide up and dressing with Dyllis’ assistance.

  “I was wondering where you’d gone off to,” she said.

  “I couldn’t sleep. I went to check on Warren. Let me dress and we’ll go.”

  “Without breakfast?” She asked.

  “We’ll grab something as we head out… I find myself eager to be away from Cysgod Lys for a bit. Don’t you?”

  “Yes, I do,” she agreed.

  * * *

  Adelaide watched Eldren as he exited to the adjoining chamber to dress. She was beyond excited. The dream the she’d had the night before had been illuminating in ways she couldn’t even explain. It was as if the contents of the book were somehow being revealed to her, even without the benefit of a translator. She’d dreamed it so clearly and so vividly that she couldn’t not believe it. It had been almost as if she were there witnessing all that had transpired. The horrors of it, Igrida’s elation, and the awful truth about the children she’d borne during her marriage. Alwen had been a warrior and while he was certainly capable of viciousness and atrocities, there was little doubt left that Igrida, even then, had been the true monster.

  “Just braid my hair and pin it up today, Dyllis. It will take too long for anything more elaborate and I am eager to be away for the day,” she said.

  “Is it the murder, my lady? Poor Charles! Is it really true what they said? That Mrs. Llewellyn did it?”

  “It looks that way. She is responsible for what happened to Madame Leola regardless. Be careful of her Dyllis! If you see her, run. Run as far and as fast as you can away from her. Is that understood?”

  “Oh, yes!” Dyllis said, her fingers flying as she quickly braided Adelaide’s hair and pinned it in a loose chignon at the nape of her neck. “I understand, m’lady. And in truth, I’d be too terrified to do anything else! Will his lordship send someone to Charles’ family to tell them or will he send one of those awful telegrams? I can’t imagine it!”

  “I hope that he would send someone and provide some sort of compensation to the family… though cold comfort it will be,” Adelaide mused. “I’ll discuss it with him today and be certain that something is done to ease the suffering of his family.”

  “Even though it seems he was the one who attacked Mr. Llewellyn?”

  “Even though,” Adelaide agreed. “I think Frances bewitched him, for lack of a better word. She’s a beautiful woman and could certainly turn the head of any inexperienced young man. Especially one who’s station was so far beneath hers. I imagine it must have been quite heady for poor Charles to have her attentions…false as they were.”

  Dyllis nodded sadly. “Aye, my lady. It would be something for a boy such as him. And he was not much more than a boy. I believe he was just eighteen.”

  Adelaide shook her head sadly. “That makes it more tragic somehow, doesn’t it?”

  “Aye it does,” the maid agreed as she began tidying up the dressing table.

  “Thank you for your assistance, Dyllis. And for the information,” Adelaide offered as she headed for the door, her coat draped over her arm.

  She found Eldren down stairs already. He was waiting in the foyer just as one of the maids rushed forward with a small hamper. “There’s bacon and kippers, as well as bread and cheese inside, my lord, and a bottle full of hot tea and cups. It should suffice as a reasonable way to break your fast,” the maid offered.

  “It will do nicely,” he said. “Thank you, and please thank cook for preparing our impromptu breakfast picnic.”

  “Yes, my lord,” she said and bobbed a curtsy. “I’ll stow it in the carriage for you.”

  “There’s no need,” he said and reached for the basket. “Her ladyship ad I can manage on our own.”

  The maid gaped at him, then backed away, nodding. She bobbed another quick curtsy and scurried away.

  “Are you ready to go face Father Thomas again?” He asked.

  “I am. I’m very eager to discover what he’s learned about that book,” Adelaide said. “And there are other things we need to discuss. Imperatively.”

  “Well, I’m intrigued.”

  She smiled. “Food first, then Father Thomas. We may be on the same path.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  They arrived at the church just as Father Thomas was leaving it to return to the rectory. “Welcome,” he called out. “I’ve good news for you. I sent a telegraph to my friend after you left the other day. He arrived early yesterday morning and has worked through the night on your book.”

  “That’s remarkable,” Adelaide said. “I’m quite relieved to hear that he’s come and that he’s been so eagerly working on it!”

  “Quite so,” Father Thomas said. “Do come in!”

  They followed him into the rectory and found a small man with white hair. He was seated at a small desk, hunched over the ancient tome, scratching notes onto a sheaf of papers next to it.

  “Barton, these are the people who brought that book you’re so interested in,” Thomas called out.

  The man looked up then, his eyes sparkling with intelligence and keen interest. “Oh, I am so very glad to meet you both. This is quite the most fascinating book I’ve encountered in all of my days as a scholar!”

  “And what is that book precisely?” Eldren asked.

  “It isn’t really one type of book… but several combined,” he said. “That is why it’s so very interesting!”

  “It’s part grimoire and part journal. It’s Igrida’s account of all the things she accomplished, all that she wished to accomplish and the foul means by which she did so,” Adelaide offered.

  The scholar, Barton, looked at her quizzically. “Yes, That’s precisely what it is. However did you know?”

  “Because I dreamed of it,” Adelaide replied. “Last night… Is there a binding spell in that book, Mr. Barton? One where the woman who wrote it spoke of binding herself to the house? To Cysgod Lys?”

  “It wasn’t called that then. It was a castle she spoke of…little more than a fortified tower if her description is accurate. But yes, I did find such a spell!”

  Adelaide felt Eldren’s questioning gaze upon her. She glanced in his direction but said nothing. Disclosing that nature of her dream, the strange vision that had invaded it, in front of Father Thomas was not something she wished to do. She could only hope that he would recognize that without her having to verbalize it. At last, he turned away and addressed Mr. Barton.

  “Is there a way to undo such a thing?” Eldren demanded.

  “I’m a scholar, my lord. Not some sort of sorcerer,” the man answered. “Much of what is written here is sheer nonsense to be perfectly frank. It’s all superstition and mystics that cannot have any basis in reality.”

  Father Thomas arched one eyebrow but said nothing in response to that.

  “There are more things in heaven and earth, Mr. Barton,” Adelaide chided mildly.

  “Indeed, my lady, so there are. But this… the kind of magic and manipulation of the elements and the very souls of others, I cannot imagine such a thing to be possible.”

  “Can you imagine such a thing, Adelaide?” Eldren asked, his
tone clearly suspicious. It was apparent from his gaze that he had realized she knew more than she was willing to say in present company.

  “We will discuss it later,” Adelaide said. “And I know just where we should go to continue our outing. For now, let us leave Mr. Barton to his translations.”

  Eldren nodded his agreement. “Thank you, Mr. Barton for your assistance with this… and you Thomas. I know this was not an easy thing for you.”

  “It isn’t. But I made a kind of peace with it, my friend. Good cannot triumph over evil by simply ignoring it. Sometimes one must look the devil in the face in order to know how to best him,” Father Thomas admitted sheepishly. “And that is what we are doing, is it not?”

  Adelaide smiled warmly at him. “It most assuredly is, Father Thomas. And I cannot thank you enough for your understanding and assistance. We will leave you to your work and check in again in a few days.”

  “I could bring it to the house when my work is complete,” Mr. Barton offered.

  Adelaide’s stomach churned at the thought and she felt a fine sheen of sweat begin to bead on her skin. “No, Mr. Barton. It may sound like silly superstition to you, but I cannot stress to you how vital it is that book never again cross the threshold of Cysgod Lys.”

  If he thought her response odd, he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he simply nodded in agreement. “As you wish, my lady. I will leave both the manuscript and my translations in the care of Father Thomas when I finish them.”

  “You seem to be rather speedy with such meticulous work,” Adelaide commented, hoping to change the subject somewhat.

  “Oh, I’ve been reading books written in the Olde English for as long as I can remember, my lady. I read them more frequently than I read books in modern English. It’s quite simple for me, really… and since much of it is drawings of plants and various symbols, the words themselves are simple and far fewer than you’d imagine.”

  “It’s still a task we found ourselves incapable of completing and you have our gratitude,” Adelaide said. “And naturally you will be well compensated for your time.”

  “Naturally,” Eldren agreed. “Now, we’ll bid you good day.”

  Once outside the rectory, Eldren demanded instantly, “How did you know that?”

  “I’ll tell you… but not here,” Adelaide stated firmly. “It isn’t safe to discuss it here.”

  “Nowhere is safe. The events that occurred in Chester should be proof enough of that,” Eldren replied.

  “There is one place. By the water on the beach near Cysgod Lys,” she said.

  “Why there?”

  “It isn’t the water, Eldren. It’s the salt. For extra safety, we shall cast our own circle, just as Madame Leola would. We will need to stop by the merchant for it, as I didn’t think to bring it with us.”

  “We’ll walk there,” he said. “It isn’t far.”

  They strolled through the small village to the store that was only a few meters from the church. If the shopkeeper thought it odd that an earl was purchasing his own salt, he said nothing if it. With the neatly wrapped package in hand, they returned to the carriage and made the short journey to that small rutted lane that led to the beach. Neither spoke in the carriage. There was little to say until she could explain where her knowledge had come from. She fervently hoped that he would believe her. It seemed that every day she was finding new ways to challenge and test the extent of his faith in her.

  They disembarked from the carriage and moved down the path, finally stepping free of the brush and rocks onto the beach beyond. Adelaide took the salt from him and sprinkled it around them in a large circle.

  “This is impossibly strange,” he admitted.

  “But effective,” she said. “You recall the night of our seance and what occurred there? This place, this beach, is the only place where I have not felt her presence. Have you ever felt her here?”

  Eldren’s expression went from thoughtful to puzzled. “I’d never considered it before, but no.”

  “You’re surrounded by salt here… in the water, mixed with the sand and even in the air. It doesn’t harm her, but it does limit her power sharply. So she avoids it.”

  “She?”

  “Igrida… But you know that, don’t you?” Adelaide challenged.

  “Madame Leola might have mentioned it,” he said. “How has this knowledge come to you, Adelaide?”

  “I saw it in a dream… all the things that are recorded in that book were revealed to me. She murdered her own daughters. It was never Alwen. She did so because she had a premonition that a woman of her blood would bring about her end. That is why your sisters died as they did. That is why every female who shares Igrida’s blood and lived within the walls of Cysgod Lys, dies tragically. She made him kill the villagers, but she was thwarted there by her own spell. She’d cast a spell to protect the souls of her people before hand. So when they were murdered, their souls to be claimed and used by her, she was unable to do so. No one killed on that moor would ever be hers.”

  “And that is why Madame Leola went there to escape Frances?”

  “Frances, as a minion of Igrida, would never have survived the moor. The spirits there would have made certain that she died there… tormented for all eternity. Leola knew that and knew Frances would not pursue her.”

  Eldren stepped forward and sank down onto one of the rocks at the center of their circle. He clapped his hands and let his elbows rest on his knees as he leaned forward. “And all of this came to you in a dream?”

  “Yes, and a vision of Igrida crafting another spell… She bound herself to this house. Every brick. Every stone. Every bit of wood and mortar.”

  * * *

  Those words echoed the very thing Igrida had said to him the night before. Eldren felt it like a punch to the gut. “What did you say?”

  “She’s bound herself to the house. And if we wish to destroy her, the house must be destroyed. It’s the only way… That’s why there has been less activity for a time. With her display of power in the cellars, with what she did to us in Chester, with all the manipulation and the strange visions, and whatever it was she attempted to do by climbing into my bed that night—.”

  “It was an attempt to scare you, nothing more. Just as she attempted to do with me just last night… She appeared to me, Adelaide, as you. I followed a form that I thought was you. With your hair, your dressing gown, the way you move—it was all there and completely indistinguishable. It was only when I spoke with her, when I could see the coldness in her eyes, that I knew it was not you. It was she who led me to Charles’ body.”

  Adelaide shivered in response to that and reached for his hands, holding them close to her heart. “She has driven Frances to commit murder… just as she drove Charles to attack Warren. Because anyone who dies at Cysgod Lys is trapped there. She learned from her mistakes with her own village. She uses those who die here for power, for a kind of fuel… just as Madame Leola said. This cluster of violence is giving her strength. If we permit it to continue and if her bargain with Frances is fulfilled, Eldren, she will never be stopped!”

  “How can we destroy this house, Adelaide? She sees everything we do. Any preparations we make will be seen. Any fires we set, she will simply douse!”

  “Because we will do it in such a way that she will never see it coming. You own a mine, Eldren, and with that mine, you have access to all the dynamite we would require.”

  “And how will we set enough charges to destroy a house the size of Cysgod Lys? She would surely know and surely stop us before we ever came close to accomplishing such a feat!” Eldren protested. The very idea of it, of destroying his home dark and dismal as it was, was more than difficult to process. It was the antithesis of everything he’d ever fought for and struggled for in his life—to maintain the history and prosperity of the Llewellyn family and the Montkeith earldom.

  “Christmas is upon us… Greenery will be placed in every room. And dynamite will be hidden within it,” Adelaide suggeste
d. “And when the time comes for the fuses to be set, I will distract her.”

  “And how would you do that?” He demanded angrily.

  “By disclosing to her then what I have just told you… that I know what she did and why. She needed to become something more than human to amass the power she craved, and to do that, she had to give up her physical form. Now, she can be born again and bring that power with her. We cannot allow that to happen. No matter the cost.”

  She terrified him. “You are so brave that it borders on foolish,” he lamented. “It will get you killed.”

  “No. It will not. I saw this in my dream, Eldren. I know what I’m doing. We will hide the explosives in the Christmas greenery. On Christmas Eve, you will give all of the servants time off to attend a special church service that we will convince Father Thomas to hold for them. Warren will leave to find Frances.”

  “And what of you and I?” He asked. “Where will we be in the midst of this insanity.”

  She smiled. “We will be accompanying Lord Mortimer and Madame Leola to the village where they will be boarding a train to return to London… But in truth, it will be Lord Mortimer who must detonate the charges. You and I are too closely linked to this entity. And Madame Leola, as well, since she has been touched by it. Only Lord Mortimer will be able to keep his motives hidden. You do believe me, don’t you, Eldren? You believe in what I have seen?”

  “I do. But what you’re suggesting borders on madness… the house has been in my family for centuries, Adelaide. It’s our legacy, our heritage,” he protested.

  “It’s your prison,” she replied, fierce and impassioned in her speech. “It’s been a prison for every member of this family for all of those years. Is the house worth being it’s captive for the rest of your life? For the rest of mine?”

  He rose from the stones where he’d rested and paced across the sand. “Adelaide, I want so badly to be free of this… but I cannot think what my life would be without this house. I’ve devoted my life to it.”