Chapter 18
Victoria skipped breakfast. She knew Gabriel was waiting for her to make an appearance in the dining room, but she couldn’t face him. Not after last night.
She was a coward.
Instead, she put on one of her favorite day dresses and tied on a bonnet and headed out the front door to the gardens.
She needed fresh air and fresh perspective.
She needed to get the enigmatic Gabriel out of her mind.
And she needed to pretend, for one moment, there was not a strange presence haunting her home.
Regret pounded through her most of the night.
How could she be so foolish to think he wanted to kiss her?
She replayed it over and over in her mind.
The way he held her, whispered in her hair.
The way he looked at her with raw, unabashed longing.
She was certain he felt the same as her.
That he longed to kiss her as much as she wanted to kiss him.
But, no. She couldn’t want that. He didn’t want that.
There was something sinister going on here and she refused to become ensnared in it.
Even though she was likely already ensnared in it. Whatever it was.
In the foyer, she noticed Gabriel had removed the broken chandelier. The only remnants of it was the scuffed floor where it landed.
With the sun shining brightly in the brilliant blue sky, she headed down the footpath to the garden. Everything was still damp from last night’s storm. The flowers were blooming in vibrant colors, emitting their sweet fragrance.
It gave her pleasure to know her mother planted most of this garden and tended it herself. She smiled at the thought as she moved down the path.
To her left, the bushes rustled. She halted there, peering at the greenery waving in the faint breeze.
Overhead, a raven cawed as it flapped through the sky, its dark feathers gleaming in the morning light.
She watched it fly overhead, then she saw the path.
Overgrown. As though it had been forgotten.
Instantly, that sense of something not being right rose within her, burning in the center of her chest.
You want to know the truth, don’t you?
Lenore. Her voice floated through the gardens as though she followed her out here.
Taunting her.
Her mouth went dry as she stared at the bushes covering the gravel path. It was different from the one she stood on. Not well-maintained like the rest of the garden.
Yes, she wanted to know the truth. Hadn’t she been hunting for it since all the strange happenings began?
Victoria stole a glance over her shoulder at the colorful foliage around her. Gabriel was nowhere in sight. Perhaps he was still rattling around in the kitchen. Good. That would give her time to explore. To find out exactly what was down that ominous gravel path.
She pushed aside the branches, their damp leaves leaving wet droplets on her sleeves. It was so overgrown, she had to fight her way down the path, but she felt certain it was leading her somewhere. To something important.
The raven followed above her.
Ahead, the oak tree stretched into the sky, its branches reaching outward providing significant shade from the harsh afternoon sun, as this side of the garden was on the west. The closer she got, the more her heart pounded.
The raven moved ahead of her, perching in a low branch and cawing as if to announce her arrival.
Then she saw it. The two-foot iron fence that had seen better days sectioning off what appeared to be a forgotten cemetery.
She froze there, staring at the two headstones.
The engraved lettering was faded. She could not make it out from where she stood.
Swallowing hard, she forced her feet to move.
A gate hung by one hinge, as though a violent storm had ripped it apart.
She pulled it open and stepped inside the small area.
The raven watched. Waited. Its keen eyes fixed on her.
The grass was still wet, but she didn’t care as she dropped to her knees. Moss covered the engraving, hiding the words. She reached out and brushed it away, then read the engraving on the first headstone.
Lenore Blackmore Allward, Beloved wife
And the second, smaller marker.
Lily Everleigh Allward, Our brightest light
The girl had been eight years old. Both headstones marked their passing over a hundred years ago. Her breath hitched as she pressed cold fingertips to her lips. A wife. A child. Gone in the same year.
And as she read the surname, Allward, once again, her blood ran cold. She stood, unsteady, her skirt damp. Was this why the house clung to him? Why he had not aged? Why he mourned as though their deaths were yesterday?
And now she was part of it. Bound by knowledge, by memory, by the manor’s will.
Overhead, the raven squawked and flapped away. A portent.
Behind her, wind stirred the branches. The scent of lilacs wafted by. A whisper on the air.
Now you know.
Victoria ran back the way she’d come, the branches flapping against her as she shoved them out of the way. One smacked her in the face, scratching her cheek. She’d had enough. Enough of this house. This mystery. This haunting. Her gut clenched with acid dread as she ran, hot tears burning her eyes.
The front door banged closed behind her and for a breath, she worried Gabriel would hear and follow her. But she didn’t stop as she headed to the study where she closed the door behind her with a snap.
She needed to be alone. She needed to find a way out.
At the desk, she dipped the quill into the ink and started to scrawl the letter in her shaking hand. A letter to her uncle. To tell him she’d made a mistake coming here, hoping for independence. A life of her own. Bitterness rose in her throat. Wouldn’t her aunt feel victorious at her failure.
When she finished writing the letter, telling him she would be making her way back, she folded it, sealed it with wax and stood. She slid it into her pocket.
When she pulled open the door, Gabriel stood on the other side, his hand ready to knock. She emitted a yelp of surprise.
His eyes were wide, full of concern, as he looked over her disheveled appearance. Then his brows drew together.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing.” She shoved passed him and stumbled into the hallway, her feet thumping on the floor. “I’m going out.”
To the post. To send off her letter. To see the young worker there once again. Perhaps he would ground her in reality, for she was not living in reality in this house. She was living a nightmare.
Gabriel followed. “Victoria, wait—”
“No,” she snapped, not turning. “I will not wait. I’m going.”
“Where?” His voice shook, as though he was terrified of her leaving.
Let him be. She flung open the front door and turned to face him one last time. “To post a letter. And then I’m returning to the city, where I belong.”
The moment she delivered the news, the front door slammed shut so hard, it rattled the frame. Victoria gasped and stepped back, her heart suddenly in her throat. She reached for the knob, but it wouldn’t open. As though the door was stuck.
Tears blinded her. “Let me out!”
Never.
Lenore’s frigid presence surrounded her. Determined, she pulled on the door again. Still, it would not budge.
“Please, let me out.” A sob hitched through her.
You can never leave. You are bound here. Just as he is.
In the parlor, the piano played a mournful tune. The notes rising to a crescendo. Finally, she crumpled to the floor, her head in her hands as she sobbed.
“Lenore, enough!” His sharp tone cut through the music.
It stopped abruptly.
He crouched next to her, sitting on the floor and wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
They sat like that for a long moment as she cried into her hands.
Though she didn’t want him near her, she admitted his presence soothed and calmed her.
He waited, silent, until she finally lifted her head, brushing away the tears in a fit of fury.
She preferred he not see her like that.
“She died here, didn’t she?” Victoria asked. She braved a glance at him.
He sat still as a statue, his arm still draped around her shoulders. His stony expression revealed nothing.
“Lenore was your wife,” she continued. “And you had a daughter. Lily.”
Pain creased his features, as though hearing this drove a blade straight through him. He dropped his arm and shot to his feet, his back to her. Rigid. Taut. Gabriel pushed a hand through his hair, leaving it in disarray. He refused to face her. He didn’t want to hear the girl’s name from her lips.
“Yes.” The word came out in a hiss of a whisper.
“What happened to them?” she asked.
“Please don’t ask me to explain.” His voice was terse with a hint of anger. “I cannot.”
“Why?” she demanded, tired of the half-truths. She got to her feet, her hands fisted at her sides. “Why are you still here when they are not?”
He spun to face her, fury creasing his normally passive features. “Do not ask that of me. Ever.”
Then he was stalking away, up the stairs. She watched his disappearing form as he turned into the west wing. Moments later, a door opened and slammed.
She turned back to the front door and tried the knob. It opened with ease. She stepped once again into the morning light.