The Lady in Yellow: A Victorian Gothic Paranormal Romance

Twenty

Were those church bells ringing? They sounded so clear and loud. The church must be close... just over there....

The air was damp, coating her bare skin. Her head felt heavy as a waterlogged sponge.

Something was tickling her face. Grass. Veronica pushed herself up and leaned on one elbow. Her head ached something fierce. It took a moment to register that she was outside, on the ground, in her underwear. She felt sick.

How had she gotten out here?

She squinted at the sun raying out over the eastern horizon. The bell stopped. Her head throbbed. A thousand birds broke into song. What on earth was going on?

She reeled to her feet, looking around in bewilderment. The moor spread out on all sides in an endless undulation of low, rolling hills empty of everything except rocks, grass and purple heather. The sky, purple as the heather, glowered down. A sliver of lightning lit the clouds, followed by a loud crack of thunder.

The moor spun around. Veronica collapsed into the shallow depression where she lay weak and panting from exertion. How did I get here? How did I get here? Her head swam. She held her weighty head in her hands. Oh, it hurt...

A white hare was leaping toward her over the shadowy heath. A flash of yellow lightning seared the horizon followed by a deep growl of thunder. The hare circled around her in the grass, then hopped into the depression near her head and began making a nest as if Veronica weren't there. Frightened yet fascinated, she watched it for a moment. Why was the creature thought uncanny? It seemed harmless enough. She tried to stand up and look around again, and immediately tottered over and fell to her knees.

She was too ill to stand. Her stomach was too hollow to support her even with her corset. Every muscle ached.

"Oh, what have I done?" Out of sheer weakness, she crumpled down and wept. Where was she?

A splinter of lightning forked to the ground, followed by a crack of thunder that split the heavens.

Veronica staggered to her feet and looked around the never-ending horizon of the moor. The air was heavy; a low breeze blew up, chilling her bare skin. It was going to rain. Swaying slightly, she searched for a place to shelter in the coming downpour.

Hadn't she heard church bells close by? She anxiously scanned the landscape for a steeple. There were no landmarks anywhere. Nothing made by human hands. Except that bell! But she couldn't recall what direction it came from. If only it would ring again!

The last thing she remembered was dropping her mother's gown on the floor of her room. What had happened between then and now was completely blank. Had she come out here alone, or had she been, horrible thought, thrown out of Belden House for saying stupid things? Memories came back in a torrent; she'd managed to offend everyone at the table. Tears streamed down her face as fat raindrops began to hit her skin.

"I suppose you're happy now, Janet!" she cried. "You've got good and rid of me. I'll bet you're in love with... with... him!"

She bowed her head and sobbed into her hands. The whole thing was hideous, shameful. She'd surely been let go. Branded forever a drunkard and a thief, no man would want her around his children. Nobody would want her. She might as well be dead.

Shaking now, she scanned the horizon. Under a low bank of purple clouds, a gash of yellow light streaked, chasing shadows like black-winged moths over the hills.

The more rational side of her mind finally gained the upper hand, and her sobs ended in ragged hiccups. One thing was sure----she couldn't stay out here in the rainstorm. Perhaps her voice would echo over the emptiness far enough to reach the ears of someone.