The Lady in Yellow: A Victorian Gothic Paranormal Romance

Forty-Four

The long case clock gonged five. The winter twilight deepened, and the bald crown of the moon rose above the yew hedge behind the ruined chapel.

The twins were still out playing. Anxious to find them before night set in, Veronica donned her cloak, pulled up the hood, and slipped out into the wet garden. No longer falling, the rain froze the air to frost and the cold was penetrating. The twins could catch their deaths in this.

The door to the walled garden on her right was open; the twin's high, clear voices pealing out. Veronica hurried over, stopping just inside the door. They were running around a small deer that had gotten cornered behind the ash tree. The twins were snarling at it, laughing. One of them lunged at the deer.

"Jack! What are you doing? Stop that at once!"

Snarling, the twins circled away from the deer and, hands crooked like claws, ran toward Veronica.

"Grrrrrrrrrrrr..."

Their light green eyes focused on Veronica, fiery yet blank, as if their spirits weren't there. She held up her hands to ward them, off. They swiped at her skirts, laughed, then skidded away, back toward the deer. Bucking, the deer leaped free and almost ran Veronica over to get out the door. The twins stood together, staring past Veronica through the door. The blank look in their eyes was frightening.

"Jack, come inside. Please."

Running at top speed, the twins flew past her into the yard.

Dazzled and dismayed by the twins' transformation, Veronica turned in time to see them running toward the birch grove, then disappear into the trees.

She bolted.

The lawn seemed to go on forever. How far would she have to go to get away from Belden House?

She arrived under the tower with a terrific pain in her side. She'd run too fast. Couldn't breath. Her corset was too tight. Her head was spinning. She stopped and pushed her hands into her side to keep from blacking out. All the trauma of her struggles with Tala came back full force. The violence. The attacks.

The twins were cursed.

Pain eased, Veronica hurried down to the gate. Footsteps crackled behind her. Who was there? She picked up speed, pushed on the railings of the gate; fell against them.

The gate wouldn't open.

Footsteps were coming closer.

She rattled the bars and screamed.

"Miss Everly, what are you doing?" Rafe's voice thundered at her back.

Veronica spun around. Rafe's shadow loomed, dark and menacing against the moonlight. He stretched his long arms toward her.

"No! No! Get away. Get away!" Veronica shoved hard at the gate, but it wouldn't budge. "Who locked this gate?" She pounded on the bars.

Rafe grabbed her arm.

"Let go of me!"

"Where do you think you're going? Get back inside. Can't you see it's getting dark? Look at the moon, woman!"

Veronica looked from Rafe to the sky and saw the full moon glowing above the trees.

"You must get back into the house," he shouted.

"No! I'm leaving. I'll not stay here for one more day!" She tore out of his grasp, quickly unlatched the gate and slipped through.

Rafe strode toward her, his long legs taking one step to her three. "You will come back, if I have to carry you."

He was on her fast, arms around her waist, picking her up off the ground. Her heart heaved painfully against her ribs.

"Let me go! Let me go!"

"It's not safe for you out here."

"It's not safe for me in there."

She bit him and broke away, only to trip over the hem of her cloak. Rafe flew at her. Next thing she knew, he was picking her up like a sack of flour, and carrying her back into the house. Surprised at her own fury, she kicked and bit him all the way upstairs to her rooms.

He shoved the door open and dropped her on her bed.

"If you leave this room, I shall have you locked in," Rafe shouted. "Do you understand?"

His face was furious. He meant every word.

"All right," Veronica said quietly.

He stared at her for a moment as if trying to gauge her truthfulness, then looked at his hand. She'd drawn blood.

"You were that horseman on the moor, weren't you?" she said, watching his eyes narrow and grow cold. "You were the one who raised his whip to me."

Rafe glared at her.

"You weren't in France, were you? You'd come back."

The set of his mouth was grim. "All right, all right, all right. So I warned you off. You should have left and spared us all this..."

"Spared you what?"

"Your witnessing of us. None of this was meant to be seen. None of it! Especially by outsiders..."

"Then I shall go." Veronica stood up, but Rafe would not let her pass. "Get out of my way," she insisted.

"No. It's too late now. You're not leaving. Not now. If it's the last thing I do, I will keep you here."

"Am I your prisoner then?"

The look on Rafe's face was stormy, frightening. She tried to push past him. He raised his hand as if to strike her, then dropped it, fist clenched to his side.

"Very well," Veronica said, sitting back down on the bed. "Just leave me."

He turned on his heel and left, slamming the door behind him.

She'd stay in her room for now, but tomorrow morning, she'd be gone.

Forty-Five