I gazed fondly around the coach at the faces of my schoolmates engaged in lively conversation; all excited to be away from Ms. Barkham’s Ladies’ Finishing School for a fortnight. I looked across at our hostess’ daughter, my second cousin, Marie; she seemed withdrawn and pensive. I thought it the gloomy weather of the Scottish Highlands outside the coach and said nothing. I didn’t believe I had ever seen her so still throughout of whole schooling career. She hadn’t spoken more than a handful of since the journey started, only answering when addressed directly on some tidbit of information about her home.
I, on the other, was looking forward to reuniting myself with the former stomping grounds of my youth and seeing the lady who I had so adored as a child. Marie’s gentle mother, a highborn French lady of an old family, had lost her husband, my father’s cousin, a year ago to pneumonia and I greatly wished I could have seen him before. But Strasser Chase was a bleak place to say the kindest and only the loving warmth of the family that lived there kept it from being oppressive. Though the impending snow clouds that hung over it did give it almost a forbidding look.
We rumbled up the graveled front path to the double front doors and alighted into the mouth of the beast. Marie’s mother, Lady Maris McLennon and Marie’s two precocious brothers, Michael and Georgie stood in the doorway to receive us. The front hall rang with girlish laughter and the vivid scents of roses and baby powder. Our wraps, muff and trunks were trundled off to our respective chambers and we were ushered into a warmly lit parlor. I recognized it at once; memories of Christmases full of gingerbread and brilliant new toys and an All Hallows Eve filled with childish fears of the old lady who roamed the halls at midnight. Today it harbored a late tea and welcome fire.
Pleasantries were exchanged, updates on family health, gossip left over from the finishing school and anecdotes of past winter breaks. The idle banter combined with the relaxing effect of putting one’s feet up before a crackling fire did more than calm my nerves and put me into a mood to sleep soundly. Marie took her turns at the conversation; but remained distracted to where her mother noticed. Eventually a calm settled over the group of us and Michael announced loudly that he was tired. His mother complied with a sweet smile and I took the opportunity to suggest we all retire for the night. Lady Maris rang for two footmen to show us to our chambers, but I had noticed a disquiet suddenly come over the peaceful countenance.
As listless and distracted as she’d seemed during our banter, Marie declared that she would show me to my chamber. Abruptly, Lady Maris became still and spoke no more. I accompanied Marie to her chamber and waited for her to don her nightshift. Then, acquiring a taper and lighting it from the fire, she led the way to my chamber. On the way, she apologized that it was the first room in the opposite wing and I would have the entire wing to myself during our stay. The other members of our party had claimed the other rooms. I didn’t understand her need to apologize and assured her that I was sure any room in this magnificent house would be a decided change over the bare girl’s dormitory at Ms. Barkham’s. She smiled and nodded, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with me.
Her continued silence felt off, yet I said nothing. When we reached the chamber I realized, finally, why she had been so adamant in apologizing. This was the room in which many members of this esteemed family had breathed their last. In hushed voices, we had, as children, fearfully called this the death room. Even thought those childhood days were gone with the naivete of youth; the thought of spending a single night, let alone two weeks, in this chamber filled me with dread. I followed her into the chamber, which had been stripped of it heavy old velvet draperies and bedcurtains; there was, in their place, a pale blue and white checked muslin. A cheery fire blazed on the hearth and the hardwood floor sparkled with vigor. I was pleasantly surprised and sighed with relief that my interment was nothing near as dire as I expected. Seeing that I was pleased, Marie visibly relaxed and bade me good night.
I settled comfortably into the huge bed and propped myself up with a book of poetry I had brought with me. At some point, I slept; for I awoke in a most uncomfortable position and laid my book aside. The fire had burned down and banked itself warmly and the gentle glow softened all the edges, blurring my eyesight. Only then did I realize what had woken me. A low moan sounded off my left, near the windowseat on the far side of the room. At first I believed it was one of my schoolmates playing some sort of prank. I smiled to myself and slid off the huge mattress, lighting a taper off a small tinderbox on the bedtable. Lifting it high, I peered into the shadows and called out playfully, "Oh, I’m trembling with fear. Pray, dear spirit, cease your frightful moaning and tell me your woes."
The candlestick in my hand dropped several inches though when a pale, dark-eyed spectre greeted the lamplight and began to speak. "Good lass, do not be afraid. " A soft Scottish burr ran through the hair at the nape of my neck and lifted it. "Because you have had the good heart and courage to address me kindly, I will do the same of you. My woes are such: I was the leader of a rebellious clan. Their crimes are not to be listed here; I am no judge of their follies. Suffice it to say that to appease two clans, I wed the eldest daughter of a neighboring clan. Ah, but she was fair. Yet as fair her face, so black her heart. Her father had convinced her that I was an enemy to be destroyed by fair means or foul and she was the instrument of my destruction. We were wed and that night she did kill me in our marriage bed; the bed on which you lay. She did accuse on e of my own men of the crime and he was wrongfully made to pay. She took over my lands and people, bearing a son of our only union. ‘Tis that son of mine that is your kin; for there is no doubt that your are McLennon, dark of eye and fair of skin."
He paused for a moment and I realized I forgotten my fear, so intriguing was his story. He ran a ghostly hand over dark hair and continued. "So long have I waited for a night when some kindly person would relieve me of this intolerable burden. Now I stand your judgement. Will you condemn me to stay on and tell my tale to those who will listen or will you free my soul to the oblivion it deserves?"
Suddenly aware I was being made to answer, I spoke the only thing on the forefront of my mind. "Sir, I cannot be your judge and jury. Truly I did not know you. I will leave you to choose the fate you believe you deserve." The dark head came up and I could have sworn there was a glimmer in the eyes, but that could have been the reflection of the moon off a snowflake outside. Then I began to understand he had become more and more solid with the story he’d told me. He was nearly real as he slowly stood before me and came to stand in the puddle of candleflame that surrounded me like a halo.
"My lady, you have freed me to a life that I can never thank you for. I choose to live the life I was denied, but on the condition that you will have me when I am to marry again." Befuddled and bedazzled, speech left me and mutely, I nodded. His smile was radiant and he slowly faded from my sight.
I came awake the next morning slowly, piecemeal; with a vague recollection of a pretty dream I’d had the night before. I dressed slowly and made my way downstairs, the whole household already astir. I had an obscure feeling that I was forgetting something. As I reached the bottom of the stairs, Marie's two brothers sped by on some boyish errand that only the eight-year-old mind could comprehend. Marie and Tessa, her closest schoolmate caught me up on the way to the morning room and began chattering about how my night was spent. When I told them pleasantly and that I’d has a most interesting dream, Marie seemed relieved, smiled radiantly and murmured something that sounded strangely like, "We had hoped you would. All of us." She rattled off a story of a cousin suddenly coming to visit early that morning, whilst I was still abed and ushered me into the warmth of the room.
I knew the dark head before he turned around, knew him at once, before the honeyed voice echoed my name upon introduction. My eyes found his and I knew last night’s dream had been no dream. "Ian McLennon, M'lady. At your service, " he smiled and leaned in to kiss my hesitantly offered hand. "And forever in your debt, my love."
1612
Bio:
E-mail:penchant_shalane74@yahoo.com
URL:
Visit Aphelion's Lettercolumn and voice your opinion of this story. Both the writer and I would love to read your feedback.