The Lady in Yellow: A Victorian Gothic Paranormal Romance

Fifty-Seven

The howling of wolves was everywhere, filling the land, enveloping the house, rising through the air.

As she hurried toward the house, Veronica heard people shouting. The voices were coming from the tower.

Veronica barged in through the lower door of the tower, and pounded up the stairs. Before she reached the second turn, she heard them fighting.

"Let me go!" Jack screamed.

"You must do as I tell you. You must!" Mrs. Twig shouted back.

Banging sounds shook dust from the walls. Slams and cries of pain sent moths fluttering. Veronica ran up the stairs two at a time. She burst onto the landing in time to see Mrs. Twig holding Jacqueline in the vice grip in front of the open door of the tower.

"Go in. Now!" the housekeeper commanded, forcing Jacqueline into the torch-lit interior.

"NO!"

Snarling, snapping at the hands encircling her arms, Jacqueline seemed terrified of going into that pulsating darkness. Janet stood by, holding a large platter with the dead hare lying on it. Her eyes were filled with tears. A branch of candles on the floor flared up, casting lurid light over the walls, making the doorway appear momentarily black as the mouth of Hell in a Mystery play.

"Please!" Jacqueline whimpered. "I can't go in there." The child's fingers were already long and pointed, white fur sprouting from her knuckles and wrists, even up the sides of her face.

Mrs. Twig's voice rasped out. "You know you have to go in. Just for tonight. There is a nice hare for your supper. Please now Jack. You know we have to do this."

"But not alone. Not alone. I've never been locked in there alone," Jacqueline whimpered.

Mrs. Twig looked around as if she sensed someone watching. Veronica stayed on the middle step, out of sight. What could she do? Her heart was torn by Jacqueline's cries, but somehow she knew Mrs. Twig had no choice but to contain her the way the nuns had been forced to contain little Tala, and for similar reasons.

Mrs. Twig let out a weary sigh. "I'll go in with you. How is that? You won't have to be alone. I'll be with you. You must just promise me that you won't forget who I am."

Jacqueline stopped struggling. "I won't."

Mrs. Twig pushed the child through the tower door and followed her in. Janet set the platter inside after them, and then picked up the candle branch and gave it to Mrs. Twig.

"Are you sure?" Janet asked.

Mrs. Twig nodded. "If you hear me cry out in any way at all, open the door."

"All right." Janet's eyes were wide with fear as she closed the door on whatever was to happen in the tower that night.

Veronica was astonished by the housekeeper's courage. Now that she'd accepted the improbable, impossible facts, she was sure she would never have stood to be locked up with Jacqueline on a full moon night.

Janet sat on the bench and put her head in her hands. This gave Veronica the chance to slip silently and quickly down the stairs to the passage that led into Rafe's rooms. Once inside, she locked the door behind her and, guided by the dim light flickering from the wall sconces, made her way out to the hallway that led to the classroom.

Remembering Rafe's instructions, she ran around the house locking all the doors and windows she could find. In a house with one hundred rooms, this was an impossible task, but she had to try. She concentrated on the ground floor, making sure every door and window was secure. All the while she pondered on the fate of Rafe de Grimston whose gruesome cries shattered the night.