The Lady in Yellow: A Victorian Gothic Paranormal Romance

Twelve

Veronica woke on the balcony, damp and freezing in her dressing gown. The deserted yard, steel-grey in the pre-dawn light, reflected the vague, empty, depression that gripped her.

She got up and headed down the hallway to look in on the twins. They were gone. Their beds were perfectly made. At this hour, they should still be tucked up under their covers, sound asleep. Especially after their late night escapade.

It wasn't proper for children to be so independent. It wasn't manageable.

She listened for noises of people moving around downstairs. Nothing.

Veronica sank down on Jacques's un-rumpled bed. Mrs. Twig had told her that they disappeared. She should expect it.

Still. It was unnerving.

What were they doing out there last night? And how she gone from being out in the yard, to waking on her balcony just now, with nothing in between? It was as if the entire incident had been a dream part remembered, and part forgotten.

The de Grimstons certainly had their ways.

Veronica went back into her room determined to attend to things she could control, like washing, dressing, and fixing her hair. The hipbath was large with a scrolled back and a marvelous water pump in the shape of a crane. She filled the kettle with water and put it on the fireplace hob to boil, threw in some dried rose petals into the bath.

She spent ages soaking in heat and fragrance. As her tensions seeped away, she wondered how she'd lived without such baths for so long. By the time she was finished dressing, the clock was gonging seven.

She went downstairs to find Mrs. Twig.

The housekeeper was in the kitchen lifting a whistling teakettle off the hob. Her auburn hair hung in a loose plait down her back. She looked haggard, as if she hadn't slept in days.

"Good morning, Mrs. Twig."

"Oh, good morning, Miss Everly. I'm just making tea. Janet, bring the tray, will you?"

Janet came around a corner with a tea tray.

"Take it out to the dining room please, for Miss Everly."

With a quick bob, Janet did as she was told.

"It's Peggy's day off," she explained, pulling a chair up to the fire. "Sometimes I'm glad of it."

The housekeeper seemed set on drinking her tea alone in the kitchen. Veronica bit her lip. She needed to talk to the reticent housekeeper.

"Mrs. Twig? I should like to have you join me for tea, please," she said.

Mrs. Twig shot Veronica a resentful glance, then surrendered.

"All right," she said.

They sat at the table in the small conservatory, quietly giving thanks before drinking their tea. Feeling splendidly revived, Veronica reached for a warm scone and slathered it with butter.

"Were you able to sleep last night?" she asked.

"No, Miss Everly. Not well."

"The children are gone."

"As I told you."

"For how long?"

"It's over now. Don't worry. Take the morning off. I am having a fresh carpet laid in the classroom."

Veronica stared at Mrs. Twig, trying to assess the housekeeper's attitude. She was fizzing over with questions, but knew she would have to move cautiously if she wanted answers from Mrs. Twig.