The Lady in Yellow: A Victorian Gothic Paranormal Romance

Thirty-Four

Veronica felt caged. The house wasn't comfortable anymore, nor was her room. Though it was getting cold outside, she preferred to stay on her balcony looking out at nature, rather than linger inside with all of those family treasures close by. As the moon dwindled, she prayed it would reabsorb the uncanny elements it had brought in at high tide, taking them back into the darkness where they came from. But then, the next growing cycle of the moon would bring the evil back again as it had always done.

What's the use?

She picked up her sewing and allowed her mind to wander. She did not want to see a repeat performance of last night. There had to be some way to break the cycle, the spell, and end it. But what could it be? Could she find it out? Could she break the spell?

Setting the warm red wool aside, she got up and went to her dressing table. Her silver crucifix lay her jewelry box where she had put it just before Rafe's banquet so it wouldn't interfere with the look of her gown, and that fateful strand of pearls. Sovay's pearls.

It served Veronica right, didn't it? Placing vanity above God. And look what had happened. Well, she would never be so foolhardy as to remove her crucifix again.

As she hung the cross around her neck, a sense of relief flooded her. Though she felt protected again, she was still uneasy about the occult things in the treasure room. Picking up her sewing, she escaped downstairs to the comfort of the drawing room with its warm, fragrant fire.

Collapsing into a wing chair, she spied the morning newspaper lying on the ottoman.

The stark, black headline read:

Farmer Shoots Man Mistaken for Wolf

She reached out gingerly for the paper. Apparently, the wolves she'd heard singing in the night were real. They'd attacked someone. Holding the newspaper with unsteady hands, she read the story.

A pack of white wolves had been menacing the sheepfolds. A farmer reported that he'd run out to frighten them away with his gun. When he got a shot off, the beasts vanished like mist. Scouting the fields for the lost sheep, the farmer came across a dead body, a young man's body that bore no signs of a wolf attack, but rather appeared to have been killed by a bullet to the head.

The farmer claimed he'd known the young man years ago....

Veronica stopped reading.

White wolves. Mist... Ectoplasm.

She laid the newspaper back down on the ottoman and looked into the fire as if it could burn the terrible story from her mind.

Where was Rafe?

Glancing up, she saw Mrs. Twig in the doorway, watching her.

"A very great tragedy, don't you agree, Miss Everly?" she said.

"Oh, yes, very great, and also very strange. Wolves have been extinct in Britain for four hundred years. We all know that."

Mrs. Twig arched an eyebrow.

Veronica scowled. "In any case, these farmers should be more careful. What was that chap doing out there at night?"

Mrs. Twig shrugged. "Country people often wander the fields. Guarding their flocks. Hunting rabbits."

"Or hares." Veronica watched for the housekeeper's reaction. Would she tell Veronica the truth about Jacqueline's transformations?

Mrs. Twig gave her a blank stare.

"And where are the twins?" Veronica asked.

"They always come back."

"That's not an answer!"

Mrs. Twig's face went masklike. She narrowed her eyes at Veronica.

"I merely wanted to see if you were still here, Miss Everly."

"And where is Mr. de Grimston?"

"He's in France."

Veronica rose from her seat like a fire from a wick. "You never tell me anything important. You expect me to just accept everything without question. But I can't. What if that young man out there is Mr. de Grimston?"

"It's not...."

"How do you know?"

"I know."

"And where are the children? Why won't you tell me? Why must I always be kept in the dark?" Veronica rubbed her hands up and down her arms, holding herself as if to keep from blowing apart. "I should leave here," she said to he fireplace. "This is not the place for me."

"Please, Miss Everly, don't. Jack needs you so. You're the only person they've ever really loved. Other than their parents, I mean."

The idea of love hurt Veronica's heart. She turned toward Mrs. Twig and sighed. "Isn't that emotional blackmail or something?"

Mrs. Twig stiffened. "Miss Everly!"

Veronica rested her hand on the mantel and looked into the fire. "We'll see, Mrs. Twig." Remembering Rafe, she couldn't bear the thought of leaving. "I'll wait until Mr. de Grimston comes home... to decide."