Thomas stared at me, obviously shocked about my question. He blinked once and then twice and I stayed quiet, waiting for him to talk.
"How do you know about Lucille?" He said this so quietly that I was afraid I had imagined it but then he raised his eyebrows, expecting an answer.
"Oh, um...Christian. He told me about the people that owned the house before we did. He said it was a brother and sister. I've met you but...your sister, what happened to her?" I pulled at a lose string on the end of my apron, afraid I'd scared him away.
I looked back up at him to see that he was looking at me with a faraway look in his eyes. "I could tell you about Lucille--about what we did together--but it's not a pleasant story."
I waited. I didn't expect it to be pleasant or anything.
Thomas sighed. "How much do you already know?"
"You and Lucille...you fell in love." Thomas winced when I said it, but just barely. "And she killed your mother after she found out. But then, I don't know what happened."
"Then we grew up," Thomas said. "She went away while I was in school and then we came back to this retched house. We were sinking--literally--in this place and I was trying to mine the clay from underneath the house. But it wasn't enough. So Lucille...she convinced me to go through with this plan of hers. We were still in love and had been married in secret. But we traveled to different countries where I would find different wives of wealthy families."
I could already see where this was going. I knew how stories like this ended but I couldn't stop listening to Thomas's voice.
"I would make them fall in love with me," Thomas continued. "It was easy, really. Most of the wealthy women I found were lonely--desperate for love that I was so willing to give. We would bring my new bride back here and, after they signed their wealth over to me, we would poison them until they died."
I tried not to gasp. It wasn't that I was surprised; I was just...sad. How many women had fallen for that? How many women had died in this house at the hands of the man sitting in the chair across from me? But, no matter how I tried, I couldn't be afraid of Thomas. He was too sad--too alone and broken--for me to be scared.
"What happened?" I knew that wasn't the end of the story. If that was the end, Lucille would be in the house, sitting across from him, not me.
"We went to America--to Buffalo, New York--and I met Edith Cushing. She was a young writer of ghost stories if you can believe it. I fell in love. It wasn't the same petty, childish love that I had for Lucille." Thomas shook his head. His voice was different now, reminiscent of a better time. "But of course, it couldn't last. Lucille was jealous, angry that I was in love with someone else. It all got out of hand." He put his face in his hands and sighed.
"Are you alright? I understand if you don't want to..."
Thomas looked back up at me. "No it's alright. I think...I think I'm going to head back up to bed now if that's alright." He pushed back from the table and stood up. "Thank you for breakfast."
I nodded and watched him go. I still didn't have the whole story but it was better than nothing.
After cleaning up breakfast, I left the house, heading into town in my horse and buggy to get food. We had enough to get by for the rest of the week but after that we would starve. I had nothing better to do today anyway.
I had grown up in Cumberland and knew quite a few people and places there. It was easy for me to get all the things that I needed to take home with me and was almost finished when I ran into Delores Eaves, a family friend.
"Rose Tallmadge," she cried as she waddled towards me. She had a little white dog scurrying on a leash in front of her. She gripped my arm when she reached me and I forced a smile. "Well, I guess it's Rose Turner, now, eh? Since you married that tailor?"
"Christian," I reminded her. "His name is Christian."
"Whichever," she replied, waving a hand. "How goes the marriage? Is it all that you ever dreamed of?"
I nodded. "Christian is a real gentleman."
"Now, I heard a rumor..."
I started to tune her out then because Delores had always heard a rumor and she was always willing to share. I, on the other hand, was never interested in hearing whatever gossip Delores had to share.
"Is that true, Rose?" Delores asked.
I looked over at her. She never asked for the truth when she was gossiping. "Sorry, what?"
Delores smiled. "Did you and your tailor--"
"Christian."
"Sure, sure. Did you move into...Crimson Peak?" She whispered that last part to me, leaning in close.
I blinked. I'd heard that Allderdale Hall was called Crimson Peak because, during the winter time, the red clay would seep up through the snow and make the hills look red. But why did Delores care if I was living there or not?
"We are."
Delores shook her head. "I'd be careful, Rose. That house is dangerous."
"Dangerous how?" I asked. Did everybody know Thomas' story except for me?
"It makes men go mad. The last one to live there killed his wife and the one before that, well, he was an abusive beast until the day he died. Be careful in that house, Rose. And if you ever need anything, you can count on me." Delores gave my arm a good shake before walking away, dragging her dog along with her.
I stared after her for a moment wondering how much truth could be in her words. If Christian and I stayed in that house, would he really go mad?
YOU ARE READING
Crimson Peak [COMPLETE]
FanfictionIn the summer of 1889, Rose Tallmadge is the new bride of Christian Turner, the town's tailor. Her new husband buys a new house for them that hasn't been lived in for at least a year. Rose is cautious about moving in because there will have to be a...