Chapter 48
Harper’s sleep was disrupted, no narrative line, just flashes of dream-blurred faces and the feeling of dread and hopelessness, the bitter cold, a faint smell of the salt air.
When she awoke, two hours had passed, and while far from fully rested, Harper felt alert.
Polly yawned at her from the foot of the bed, and Harper scratched her ears and kissed the top of her head.
“What’re we doing here, Polly?” she asked herself as much as the cat.
Harper stripped off her clothes and stood in the shower, letting the hot water rain down on her.
She massaged lemon-scented shampoo through her hair and let her muscles relax in the steam.
After brushing her teeth, and making herself as presentable as possible, she put on a clean pair of leggings and a black wool sweater.
With a bit more energy, she made her way back to the library.
She found Lady Bell at Nora Grey’s table again, her laptop out and a folder full of documents beside her.
“Good morning, dear!” Lady Bell greeted her with a wide smile. “I hear you had a late night, or an early morning, depending on how you look at it.”
“I was up late reading,” Harper said hesitantly. “I’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday.”
“Good. Keep thinking it, and trust yourself.” Lady Bell nodded thoughtfully. “I hear you’re joining us for a few more days.”
“If that is okay with you, of course. Nigel mentioned it over breakfast this morning,” Harper said.
“Of course, I told him to mention it.” Lady Bell picked up the folder and shuffled through it until she found the document she was looking for. “This storm plans on holding on a bit longer.”
“What are you working on?” Harper asked curiously.
“This manor is a full-time job,” Lady Bell said with a laugh.
“This is the fascinating job of inventory lists, grocery bills, and basic food cost. Most of the records are all electronic, but my accountant has me double-check everything, especially the paper receipts, to make sure it’s all square.
This is but one of the entirely dull and mundane pieces of business that come with running Bell Manor.
” She sighed. “I’m back to work, and so are you.
Please don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything. ”
Harper nodded and crossed the room to the stairs. She climbed to the third floor and took the materials from the drawer and laid them all out on the table. With a deep breath, she opened Meg’s journal.
On the third day of my torment I felt my Lord God abandon me in my terror.
I was taken to the deck of the ship and with my sisters as witness, was stripped bare so my back was exposed.
The sailors raised complaint for my treatment, but Father Taine roared them down and the weight of his coin silenced their objections.
I was lashed beyond count. I refused to cry out, or show my tears, for the anger in my heart was so great that I was afraid that I would decry the Devil himself if I gave in to the biting pain of the lash.
I have been accused of most horrid actions, and the Lord alone knows my innocence.
Liam, for all his grand words, stood silent as Father lashed me, afraid to speak on my behalf. I abhor a coward.
Sister Perne is sick with fever and lays below the deck with the same shaking illness that took my Rory.
I ken I will be blamed as the cause for this calamity and as I knelt on the deck, my blood running in rivers from my torn flesh, I understood why woman or man might be tempted to sign their name in the Devil’s black book if it served as even a brief respite from the grief that filled my soul.
Later, Sister Constance came to me in my locked and dark closet and washed my wounds with dampened rags.
It was an act of kindness that she will surely be punished for.
She whispered to confess. I replied that I had naught to do with the evil of which I had been accused.
It matters naught, she whispered in an urgent and most soulful tone, I would be spared, she said, my soul cleansed and my body spared.
Still I said nothing as my soul was already cleansed, and my body in the hands of Lord God and for his mercy alone should I confess.
She has always been the most heartened of my sisters.
She is but a bit older than myself, and her wee bairn, Addie, could be Rory’s twin.
She brought me a sachet of nettles and sage, pulled from the banks of the Loch, as they are used to bring calm and peace.
She even sprinkled a bit of black salt and dried mint leaf in the corners of my cell to keep the rats from creeping from their lurking places.
As I sat in the black space as the light underneath the door wavered and waned, and kept the sachet close, the scent brought me to mind of my own mother close to my heart and mind.
In the room beyond the locked door, I could hear Father Taine and his ceaseless words to my sisters demanding that they not give the false confession of a delirious brain, the trappings of the Devil may treacherously depart their soul from their corporeal forms when faced with torments, but that they speak the truthe and confess to the nature of their crimes.
He demanded that they tell him the accounts of when I acted in the Devil’s stead.
Had they seen me call the Devil to the side of my dear one, my Rory?
Had they seen me betray my heavenly marriage in most foul counsel with the sailor above deck?
Had they seen me sign the Devil’s black book?
Sister Perne is close to death, and I can smell the rot in the air. It is a foul sort of omen and I smelled it as Rory drew his last breath as well. I pray for her release from this torment, as much for her soul as mine, and for that vanity I am guilty.