Chapter 10
Onora threw off the sheets. Her heart was racing so fast she was fearful it would burst.
Her mind was still there, within the awful dream.
She’d been in the desert again, as she’d felt herself to be during the strange parlor game, but a snake had appeared.
She’d wanted to jump up, but her body had refused to obey.
It had curled about her ankle, its tongue flicking and its eyes a dull yellow.
She’d wanted to kick it away but onward it came, sliding past her calf and the inside of her knee, teasing her inner thigh…
She’d screamed then woken herself up, hadn’t she?
Shaking, she poured herself some water from the carafe at her bedside. Her forehead was burning but she was cold too, uncontrollably shivering.
These dreams had to stop!
A cry came—from the other side of the wall?
Aunt Clodagh!
Onora shoved her arms through the sleeves of her dressing gown, tying it roughly, then ran along the inner cloister, rapping at her aunt’s door, calling out to her.
“Onora!” Her aunt wailed from within. “Quickly! Fetch help.”
In haste, Onora turned the handle. Unlocked, it flew open, and she almost fell through.
By the moonlight streaming through the door, she saw Clodagh sitting up, holding a pillow before her.
“It’s at the end of the bed! A snake!” Her aunt pointed.
The cobra was coiled upon a decorative coverlet draped over the sheets, upright, with its hood fanned.
“Don’t move.” Onora looked about the room, searching for something—a shawl perhaps—to cast upon the serpent. It wouldn’t intend to hurt anyone, but snakes were unpredictable.
As the cobra swayed, Aunt Clodagh whimpered.
Hurriedly, Onora took off her dressing gown and, stepping forward, threw it over the creature. She was about to run to her aunt, thinking to get her out of bed and into the courtyard, when the door swung back on its hinges, hitting the wall.
“I heard shouting. Are you hurt?”
To Onora’s surprise, it was Mr. Balfour, looking even more disheveled than he had earlier in the day, with several buttons of his shirt undone.
“Under there! A snake!” Clodagh gestured at the thing writhing beneath the soft fabric of Onora’s dressing gown.
Scooping up the edges of the coverlet, making a bundle, Mr. Balfour tied the corners loosely and slung all to the far side.
Only now did Onora see he was holding a gun, Cocking it, he aimed.
“Please, don’t!” Onora shrieked.
Just then, someone else ran into the room—a small figure, wearing a galabeya. “I hear shouting. There is a scorpion, or a serpent?” It was one of Seton’s men, carrying a basket and stick.
In the blink of an eye, the man had grabbed the bundle and tossed it into his basket, securing the lid.
“Good job, Kareem.” Mr. Balfour touched his hand to the man’s shoulder.
“Oh! My thanks to you both—Kareem, Mr. Balfour.” Aunt Clodagh gave in to sobbing, burying her face in the pillow she was still clutching.
“You’re safe now, Aunt.” Onora flew to her side, putting her arm about her.
“You were brave, Miss Sullivan, keeping your head until we got here.” Mr. Balfour replaced his gun within its holster. “And Miss Montague.”
Aunt Clodagh lifted tear-filled eyes. “Oh, she was most courageous! Her quick thinking saved me, throwing her dressing gown over the creature. Dear Onora!” She squeezed her hand.
“It didn’t mean harm. It shouldn’t have been here at all,” Onora replied. “A cobra like this is usually found by the cliffs, or down by the river, where there are birds and their eggs, as well as toads and other snakes for them to eat.”
“No doubt it came for the chickens. There’s a whole run of them, isn’t there, by the staff quarters?” Aunt Clodagh suggested.
“Perhaps…” Onora frowned. She was about to ask Kareem what he made of it, and if they’d had snakes inside the residence before, when there were voices by the door.
“Heard shouting. Is anything untoward?” the Colonel called through.
“Clodagh, dear, are you alright?” A face in a lace nightcap appeared.
The doctor stepped over the threshold. “Is assistance needed? I’ve brought my bag.”
Onora was touched by all the concern, even if it was rather belated. She beckoned in Dr. MacGregor. Her aunt appeared fine, but it would likely soothe her to receive the attention.
“What’s going on?” Seton appeared. He made no qualms about entering but stopped abruptly upon seeing his nephew. “And what the deuce are you doing here?” His tone was far from friendly.
“A cobra.” The younger man’s reply was similarly tight-lipped. “I couldn’t sleep. Came in to reference something in the library and ended up dozing off in a chair. I regret it took me as long as it did to get here. Thought I was imagining things.”
Seton’s gaze was stone cold, moving to Kareem. “I take it the serpent is in that basket. Take it out of here and chop its head off. I’ve told you about keeping snakes out of this compound. If it happens again, you can pack up and leave.”
“Seton!” Onora felt compelled to intercede. “Kareem acted swiftly and humanely. He deserves our thanks rather than censure.”
The man had been working on the site since her father’s time and she knew him to be conscientious. To threaten dismissing him over such a thing was monstrous.
“I apologize.” Kareem bowed low to her aunt and herself. “There shall be no more snakes. A guard will sit under this window, to watch day and night.”
“Thank you, Kareem, but I’m sure that won’t be—” Onora had no chance to finish, being interrupted by Seton.
“Leave this to me.” His jaw was taut with anger. “And put something over your nightgown! A degree of modesty wouldn’t go amiss.”
The rebuke stung.
Was that all he could think of, when her aunt had been in such danger? Seton hadn’t even asked after her.
Onora shrank back, folding her arms over her chest. The cambric likely did reveal more of her shape than was seemly, but she surely didn’t deserve admonishment, any more than Kareem.
Dr. MacGregor gave his verdict. “Miss Sullivan will be fine. Her pulse is steadying but I’ve given a drop of laudanum.” He smiled gently at Clodagh. “Can hardly expect you to get back to sleep without a bit of help.”
“Excellent.” Seton’s tone was crisp. “In that case, we can all return to our rooms.”
Kareem hurried out, and Seton ushered the others away from the door.
“Thank you, doctor. I’ll stay with her,” said Onora.
“Oh yes, dear. That would be kind.” Clodagh settled back against her pillows. “Climb in beside me. There’s plenty of room.”
“I’ll take first watch outside.” Mr. Balfour locked eyes with Onora. “I’m sure there won’t be any more snakes, but if you’ve any cause for alarm, I’ll be right on the other side of the door.”
“I think not, Balfour.” Seton’s tone was icy. “And I’d appreciate you making prior request for use of the library—during daylight hours, if you would.”
A charged moment passed. Despite his clenched fists, Mr. Balfour controlled whatever reply he wished to give.
Much later, Onora slipped out of bed, gathering the voiles aside.
One mesh had been left open.
Quietly, she slid it closed.