The Lady in Yellow: A Victorian Gothic Paranormal Romance

Twenty-Six

Swallowing a sob, Veronica's curiosity disrupted her descent into self-pity. What was over there, anyway? Maybe she could distract herself by digging around in the family secrets.

Rather than get up, she just stared into the room.

All that clutter! Someone should just go in there and throw all of it out. Family treasures, indeed. More like a load of junk for the rag picker and the bone gatherer. The only family treasure she'd ever had was a gown that got her into so much trouble. What good was it, saving things? The past was over. It meant nothing.

She imagined Rafe in his little den under the stairs, reading that letter from his French paramour, pouring over every word as he succumbed to spell of her perfume. His blue eyes closing as his mind roamed across the English Channel toward her.

Why should she care? She was just a governess in a plain, drab, now sweaty, green dress, a complete nobody.

Her heart was breaking and it was ridiculous and she was so angry with herself she wanted to throw herself off the balcony.

She picked up a candle branch and went under the archway. The only window was closed under heavy red curtains. She pulled them apart, releasing a cloud of dust, and found a drawn shade underneath. No wonder it was so dark. She pulled the shade; it snapped up, revealing that it was dark outside as well. She found a candelabrum, lit all eight candles, and soon had enough light to see by.

Flickering firelight turned the room from intriguingly haunted to downright ghastly. The wallpaper was covered with white camellias with black leaves. The furniture, all dark wood upholstered in red velvet, was full of uncomfortable twists and turns like medieval torture devices. There was a cushioned settee and a few French chairs, including an elaborate hooded porter's chair, set around a table holding a square board and a downturned glass. On the board, the large white letters of the alphabet curved in a bold arch above the words oui and non, while on the left side, a horned devil with a long, snaky tail cavorted, tipping his hat like a cartoon master of ceremonies.

Veronica's skin crisped at the sight of it. In her years at Saint Mary's, she'd heard about the dreaded Ouija board, but had never seen one. Three china dolls, sitting on two of the chairs, suggested the presence of children at these diabolical séances. She prayed they were not the twins. The tears dried on her lashes, and all thoughts of Rafe and his French hussy were replaced by a creeping anxiety.

How could they call these devilish contraptions their treasures? What else was in here?

Her eyes fell on a large cabinet at the back wall. Through the etched glass panes of the double doors, she saw rows of books, and on the second shelf, a deep wooden box.

Unable to resist, Veronica approached the cabinet and opened the glass doors. For one afflicted with curiosity, a box like the one before her now was as compelling as a closed door. Her heart beating a tattoo against her chest, she pulled out the box, and took it to the table. It was so heavy she dropped it on top of the Ouija board with a thud, knocking the downturned glass to the floor where it broke with a loud chink. With a burst of bravado, she kicked the shards away with her foot.

In the box was a file of glass plates. She pulled one out. They were photographic negatives. Etched on the glass in golden sepia tones, was an image of Sovay de Grimston. Her eyes were hypnotic, her hair loose in long waves of shadowed light. At the level of her throat was a cloud, a mystic vapor that seemed to spread out beyond the edges of the frame. The negative vapor looked so dark that the real one must have been like a blast of snow. What on earth could this signify?

Another plate held an image of three children, two of them so black and, even in the negatives, shining, that they could only be the twins. The third child, clearly a bigger girl, was as dark and bright as Jack. Veronica's mind raced back to the third desk in the classroom. Had there been an older sister? Was this she?