Chapter Five
Clutching a fresh bunch of flowers, Miriam made her way along the cemetery path toward her mother’s grave.
The sun had risen more than an hour since, its light masked by another bout of fog, which drifted in patches through the headstones like a horde of ghosts.
Miriam smiled at the thought, wondering if her mother was with her right now.
“If you are here, Mama, thank you,” she murmured.
“And thank you to Alice as well. I’m not frightened anymore. ”
Yesterday had been spent preparing for the journey.
Today, Daniel had a few final arrangements to make, mostly to do with adjusting his work schedule.
This time tomorrow, they’d be on the way to Scotland, an elopement not driven by fear, but simply to avoid any potential obstructions or delays.
After that, they would be together completely, free to surrender to the temptations and desires that now existed between them.
It had been less than two days since Daniel had taken her to his home, a brief span of time in which Miriam had discovered what it meant to fall in love.
Any and all of her fears had dissipated, replaced by a wonderful sense of rightness, as if she’d at last found her place, which was beside Daniel.
He’d not been happy about her going to the cemetery alone this morning but, as she pointed out, she’d been visiting her mother’s grave for months without a chaperone.
The empty bench emerged from the fog and Miriam smiled at the memories it evoked.
She paused at the graves, her gaze coming to rest on Daniel’s angel.
Though biblically they had no gender, this particular angel’s face, with its delicate lines and gentle expression, was inarguably female.
Miriam set her flowers down, stepped closer, and trailed her fingers across the angel’s cheek.
It was cold and smooth. Flawless, as an angel should be.
As she stepped back, a tingle ran up her spine and she froze, instinctively aware that she was no longer alone.
“That’s the trouble with habits,” a dreadfully familiar voice said. “They’re hard to break. I knew I’d find you here one of these mornings.”
The hair on Miriam’s nape lifted and she turned, slowly, to face her stepbrother. “Silas. What are you doing here?”
“Where are you staying?” he demanded, looking her up and down. “Not the workhouse. I already checked.”
“That is none of your business, sir.”
He laughed. “Actually, it is, since I’m your guardian.”
Miriam shook her head. “Not legally! Besides, what do you care where I’m staying? You wanted me out of the house and I’ve obliged you. You should be happy about it.”
His fists clenched. “We had an agreement.”
“Who did? I never agreed to anything.”
“Me and Paget.”
Miriam scoffed. “I wouldn’t marry Mr. Paget if he was the last man on Earth. I believe I made that clear already.”
Nostrils flaring, Silas took a step closer, enunciating every word as he spoke. “Paget and I had an agreement.”
A prickle of fear brushed over Miriam’s scalp.
When impassioned, as he was now, Silas always assumed a wild look.
It actually served him well in the pulpit, adding drama to his Sunday sermons.
Yet this was different, somehow. He looked unhinged.
Frenzied, almost. “Then tell him the agreement no longer stands,” she replied.
Silas’s eyes narrowed. “It will cost me if I do that.”
“Cost you? How?” Miriam gasped. “Are you saying you sold me?”
“No, of course I didn’t, you stupid girl, but Paget agreed to make a handsome donation to St Mark’s once you were wed. You owe me, Miriam. I housed you, fed you, tolerated your presence beneath my roof. Paget is a decent man. A Christian man. A man who—”
“He disgusts me, Silas! And as for owing you, what little your father left for Mama and me did not go very far. You inherited the rest, which was not unsubstantial. I owe you nothing. A handsome donation, you say? To the church, or to your own private coffers? In any case, it makes no difference. I will not marry Paget.” Miriam lifted her chin.
“Besides, I am no longer available to Paget, or anyone else, for that matter.”
“What do you mean?”
“I am promised to another, Silas. We are to be wed in a few—”
“Another?” Silas’s eyes widened and the redness in his face drained away. “You are promised to another?”
“Yes.”
As his face contorted into something unrecognizable, Miriam knew she’d made a terrible mistake.
She’d seen him angry before, but never liked this.
It was a manifestation of fury, evident in the gray pallor of his flesh and the bulging of his eyes.
She glanced past him, looking to escape, not even finding time to blink before he grabbed her wrist, his hand tightening like a vice.
“You are not going anywhere,” he said, through gritted teeth. “Who is this man?”
“Release me, Silas.” Miriam tried to pull his hand away, but it tightened further. “Let me go!”
“I will have his name, Miriam.” Silas grabbed her other wrist, spun her around, and drew her hard against him, his breath hot against her neck. “Tell… me… his… name.”
“No!” Miriam struggled against him. “Release me or I’ll scream.”
Silas scoffed. “Go ahead. No one will hear you with all this fog. Answer me, damn it, or I swear you’ll be sorry.”
At that moment, as if disturbed by a breeze, the fog around them stirred, and a caress, ice cold, brushed lightly across Miriam’s cheek.
“What the…?” Silas muttered, his body tensing against hers. A moment later, he let out an odd moan and released her. “God help me!”
Miriam turned to look at him. Eyes wide and mouth open, he appeared to be looking at something to the left of her. She followed his line of sight, but saw nothing except a gentle swirl of fog. Was he having a funny turn?
“Silas?”
He didn’t answer. Still gaping, he fumbled beneath his collar and pulled out a gold cross on a chain, clutching it as he nodded. Then, giving Miriam a swift, final glance, he turned away and disappeared into the mist.
Bewildered, Miriam touched the spot on her cheek where she’d felt the icy touch, but the chill had gone.
She glanced around, her gaze halting once more on the area Silas had focused upon.
It was slightly to the left of her mother’s grave, an empty plot yet to be occupied.
Yet Silas appeared to have seen something there and interacted with it.
Whatever it was, real or imagined, it had scared him off, hopefully for good.
As for the suspicion currently at the forefront of Miriam’s mind, she decided to set it aside. Not that she doubted the possibility of ghostly interference. How could she? But in this case, she chose to believe Silas was probably suffering from some sickly affliction.
She picked up the flowers and began to arrange them on both graves. When finished, she stood back and regarded the angel. “Next time I see you, I’ll be married,” she said. “In the meantime, perhaps you can tell these two ladies to rest in peace now. I think they’ve made their point.”
*
“God give me strength,” Daniel said, later that day, with anger in his voice and a tick in his jaw. “I’m going over there to sort this out. He’ll not bother you again, Miriam, I guarantee it.”
“No, please Daniel, let it go,” Miriam replied. “I’m fine, really. As things are, I genuinely believe he’ll not bother me anymore anyway.”
“He’d better not.” Daniel got up from his chair and went to the window, hands on hips as he gazed out at the rear garden for a few moments before turning.
“All right, Miriam, but from now on, you’ll not set foot in Highgate unless I’m with you.
This is not a request, it’s a demand, and I’m serious about it. Is that understood?”
“Yes, it is,” she replied, stifling a sigh of relief. “Do you have any theories about what might have happened?”
“To Silas?” Daniel pondered. “Not really, though I know what you’re thinking. Given his occupation, however, maybe it was something more divine. His conscience, I should hope.”
“Maybe.” Miriam shrugged. “In any case, I really don’t think he’ll bother me again.”
“That does not negate what I said about your future visits to Highgate,” Daniel replied.
“I know.” Miriam rose from her seat and went to him. “I promise I will not visit the cemetery unless you are with me.”
“Good,” he said, drawing her close. “And if he comes anywhere near you in future, he’ll answer to me.”
Miriam looked up at him. “It seems Mama’s prediction has been more than fulfilled,” she said. “Protection and sanctuary.”
“And marriage.” Daniel sighed and stroked her hair. “I cannot wait to marry you, Miriam.”
“Just two more days,” she replied, “and I shall be Mrs. Barton.”