Seductive Lies (Secret Lives Series) (27 page)

“No…yes…not like you are insinuating.”

Meriwether fell back into a high back chair. Running his hands through his hair, he shook his head. “Georgiana…sent a note to me. She agreed to meet with me. She wanted to know about the child…It was foolish of me to bait her, but I wanted so desperately to see her alone.”

Harriet had never seen a man cry, but tears fell down Meriwether’s face. He wiped them back harshly. “That was the note that was intercepted. I wrote her to meet down at the old Dartmouth Hall.” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a letter. He gave it to Percival. “
See—she had no intention of running away with me, though I begged her. She told me…she told me she loved her husband. He had given her what I could not and she would never do him any harm. She told me…she had the life she wanted. She had her family.”

“She wanted only to know about the child,” Percival said in a low
-cutting voice. “Good Gawd! Meriwether, you were going to tell her about James…”

Then as quickly as it appeared, it faded. Harriet sat staring, confused, in the mirror. She didn’t understand. She knew she was supposed to, but she didn’t. She kept going over all that she had seen, trying to make sense of it.

She closed her eyes and concentrated.
James
. Who was James…no, it couldn’t be…not James. It was not all that bothered her. Her mother…

Suddenly, Harriet had a sudden uncanny feeling she was being watched. She opened her eyes to a blinding light reflecting in the mirror. She turned.

Harriet saw nothing but the bright light. Across the room, a white glow shimmered in a haze. Slowly a figure emerged, an apparition. A woman, by all appearances. She wore a black cape with the hood up, covering her face, but her eyes shone…streaming a heart-wrenching sadness.

Such sadness…it touched Harriet’s heart. The apparition approached her
and then halted. The hood fell back, exposing her face. Harriet had known…it was Sophia.

For a moment, it occurred to Harriet that what she saw wasn’t real. Sadie’s words about ghost
s—what had she said?
A ghost is a memory of what once was, lingering, searching for a semblance of peace…of restoration of wrongs once done.
Could a soul’s conscience bind them in this realm? Disregard the boundaries of death?

The apparition turned slightly…seemingly beseeching her. Could it be it
 
wanted
 her to follow? She gazed straight at Harriet…to hurry?

Sadie cautioned Harriet, warned
her, the ghost of Sophia might well hold her responsible for the failures in her own life…but it was not what Harriet felt. Harriet felt an overpowering feeling of someone calling to her for help. She couldn’t dismiss it. She had no time to think…to consider her action. She reacted. She followed.

Harriet raced behind the glow, down the front staircase, through the open door and into the night. Wind swirled around her, but the rain had ceased. The darkness lightened with the full moon above her. The clouds dissipated, removing the gloom of the nocturnal despair. She hurried. She had to hurry. She could not lose the glow floating effortlessly before her.

In the far distance, Harriet heard someone call her name over and over again. She ignored it. She couldn’t be
deterred from the pull. She hadn’t a choice. She had to continue…she had to follow.

She rushed along a path through the garden, down the lane away from the cliffs…from the ocean and the waves pounding the rocks…away from where Sophia leaped to her death. The ground beneath her feet soaked her slippers. The wind whipped harshly against her, cutting her to the quick…chilling her to the bone.

The path narrowed into the woods. She pushed back the wild undergrowth, ignoring the briars and vines. Then suddenly she recognized where she was. Although she could see nothing of the house, she recognized the lane. In the twilight, a thicket of close-ranked trees blocked her view, but she knew. It was Dartmouth Hall.

How…how did she get here so quickly on foot? She hadn’t time to contemplate her situation. The light did not stop, but traveled over the grass-grown path toward the ruins of the mansion.

Fear emerged. Ramblings thoughts consumed her. What if this…this ghost…this spirit wished her harm? Arthur had never loved Sophia…Sophia had been hurt and wounded by her. What was wrong with her...what was she doing? Was she mad? She was doing exactly what Arthur had feared. She had promised him she would make him proud. Now, the whole of Ayercombe Manor would think her a lunatic!

Intense suspicion swelled within her in the still night. Scared, she stopped. She was terrified. Her fear numbed her brain. She didn't know what to do.

The glow halted and turned to Harriet. Panic seized Harriet. The apparition beckoned Harriet, bestowing a look of contempt, not anger…not rage. Contempt of what…her lack of courage? Harriet couldn’t tell. The figure, though, moved toward her. Harriet reached out and touched the air. It was cold, but nothing else. She felt no evil, only a sense of urgency.

Oh, she must be a fool! She walked up to the entrance and
 eased open the battered door. It squeaked and she jumped. The cracks in the walls and the broken windows allowed the full moon to give the house a strange, eerie radiance.

Harriet lingered in the doorway. The house was in disarray, shabby and dirty. Now, Harriet felt a cold, foul evil. The apparition floated
forward, urging her onward. Harriet said a prayer and followed.

Her footsteps against the floor echoed peculiarly throughout the deserted house. She followed the glow down a hall where there were no windows,
till darkness engulfed her.

“Sophia! Sophia!” Harriet cried in terror. “Do not leave me!”

There was no answer…only the glow reappeared, brighter. Harriet could see. She walked along to the end of the hall. A door swung back off its hinge. It opened to some sort of cellar.

Harriet hesitated. Her heart pounded so loudly
, she thought it would burst through her chest. It was so dark…so dreadfully dark. She backed away. Then a voice emerged in the blackness.

“Harriet.” Muffled, but Harriet heard her name. “Harriet.”

Suddenly, Harriet wasn’t afraid. The voice…the voice soothed her. She followed the sound. At a slow pace, Harriet descended down the stairs, one step at a time.

A bright light greeted her. She turned her head to the glare. Then she saw.

{“Here, Georgiana, get in quickly. Henry is coming. You can’t let him catch you here.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know.”

Harriet caught sight of the woman…her mother. Georgiana. Her eyes filled with worry and fear. Harriet couldn’t see the other voice, but she saw well a long shadow flickering against the wall, urging her mother in a dark hole.

“Don’t worry. It is a priest’s hole. Many a Catholic priest hid here during the reign of Queen Elizabeth. They survived. You will also. I will double back when it is safe. Henry will never know you were here and you can go back to being the happily married couple you so desire.”

Georgiana glanced back nervously over her shoulder. She gripped the hand. “Hurry. I do not like it here and…Harriet will awake from her nap soon.”

“Trust me.”

Harriet watched Georgiana moved into the small space. To her amazement, the panel moved behind the woman, securing her into the priest’s hole…locking her into a prison.

Harriet cried out. “No. Mother! Mother!”
}

Harriet felt her body shake uncontrollably. She fell back into a darkness. She couldn’t see. Her eyes opened and she couldn’t see! The most ominous sensation overpowered her…the smell of death…death. She bolted into a sitting position.

“Is she back?”

A voice. She heard a voice. She covered her face with her hands. What had happened to her? Someone embraced her…rocked her tenderly.

“Harriet. Harriet.”

“Arthur,” Harriet uttered incoherently. “Arthur.”

Blinking her eyes, the room came into focus. She was lying in Arthur’s bed. She struggled to get up, but hands pushed her gently back on the pillows.

“Thank God! I feared for you, my love. I knew you should have never come back at this time. I should have never relented.” Arthur took her hand and kissed it. “Lie back and rest.”

“What do you mean? Arthur, I have to go. Dartmouth Hall. She’s there. Arthur. My mother…she’s trapped. I have to save her.”

“Harriet.” Arthur spoke her name in a strange manner. She saw it in his eyes…his look. A subtle change had come over him. He thought her mad!

She pushed back against him. “No, Arthur. You don’t understand. I have to go. I have to go.”

Arthur refused to allow her to leave her bed. Harriet glanced over at Sadie, whose eyes reflected her own concern. Harriet grasped Arthur’s shirt. “Please, Arthur, listen to me. My mother needs me. She’s trapped…trapped and can’t get out. I have to go. I have to go.”

“Calm yourself, Harriet
.” He spoke in a tone much as he would have to a small child. “Think. Think. Your mother left you more than twenty-four years ago. How could she be trapped? She isn’t here. Remember, you talked with your grandmother in London. Remember? Your mother is in America.”

Remember. She searched her mind. Yes, she remembered. “Mrs.
Tyndale said her daughter ran away to America and has never returned…never…because she is trapped, Arthur. She needs me. I feel it. I saw it.”

Arthur released her and stood. “Send for the doctor.”

“No, Arthur. We don’t have time for this,” Harriet cried, frantically looking over, pleading with Sadie. Sadie lowered her gaze.

Arthur kissed the top of her head. “I will be back.” He said nothing more and left.

Harriet sank back on the bed. Comprehension filled her. She did not need to be told what they thought…even Sadie, who professed to believe in her gift. She turned her back to her maid and pretended to be asleep.

A fearful premonition possessed her. Time was running out. She had to get to Dartmouth Hall. She watched Sadie and waited only until her maid withdrew out of the chamber. She knew it would be for only a moment,
but now…at this moment she was alone. She eased out of the bed and slipped into the pink room.

She searched quickly for her cape and her boots. She dared not waste any more time. She rushed down the corridor and halted before the landing. She looked around and eyed the door. All clear. She heard a sound. Movement in the foyer. It would not be long before she would be discovered.

Every instinct told her to go. Go now! She did. Scurrying down the stairs, she raced to the heavy panel mahogany door. Opening it wide, she wasted no time and walked out of the manor. A brisk wind greeted her, but the rain had ceased.

She stood frozen for a moment. She hadn’t a plan other than she had to get to Dartmouth Hall. She turned on the pebbled lane, looking for the way. Then suddenly
someone caught her arm and swung her around. She stood face to face with Arthur. For a moment, she refused to meet his gaze. She did not want to see the disappointment in his eyes.

“Harriet, I would ask what is wrong with you, but I know the answer. Look at me,” Arthur demanded. “Look at me.”

“Arthur, please,” she begged, blinking back her swelling tears. “Let me go. I have to go. You don’t understand. I know you believe I’ve gone crazed, but I’m no different than I have been...only I can’t ignore this…it’s pulling me.”

He hesitated. Finally, he said, “If we go and find nothing, you must promise me that you will never mention any of your fanciful imaginations again.”

Harriet’s heart leaped. She nodded. “You will go with me?”

“I would not let you go alone, if that is what you are asking
.”

She choked back her emotions. She accepted his proposition. It didn’t matter he didn’t believed her. It was enough he was with her.

Harriet sat upon her mount. Arthur wasn’t happy…far from it. He said hardly a word as they rode over to Dartmouth Hall, only to inform her that no one had been at Beebe Manor when he called. He had found no answers.

This was folly in his eyes…this venture to Dartmouth Hall. Ironic, for there had been a time when riding over to Dartmouth Hall had been exciting and exhilarating because she had been rendezvousing with him…forbidden love that had to be hid from prying eyes.

In the light of day, she recalled the thrill of riding up to the ruins. The look on his face at her arrival was etched always into her heart, but never once had they entered the remnant of grander days.

Now in the dead of night, the mansion took on a different aura. It exuded evil. The shadows illuminated over the broken windows, boards, and the jungle of overgrown weeds and bushes the gardens had become.

She prodded her horse to follow Arthur around the house to the back. A terrible foreboding gripped her at the sight…a fearful premonition. It was as she had seen. The doorway lay open. She tethered her horse alongside of Arthur.

She watched Arthur motion to his men to alight. He looked over at her sharply. His eyes shone his irritation. She realized he had set aside his pride to appease her. She wished she could erase the look. She comprehended well he thought her irrational.