This Darkest Man (5 page)

The
jewelry all sat in a simple wooden box with
Larsen
carved on the top. It
sat there in a jumble because Aunt Anna frowned against vanity of any kind;
that was probably one of the reasons she disliked my mother so much. I
carefully opened the box and the hinges creaked as if in protest at being
removed from their dark hiding place.

Nothing
really looked like it was of value. None of it compared to the flashing
diamonds and other gems, which my mother had worn on her fingers. It was
probably more sentimental in value than anything. All of it was mostly sedate
which suited my family who had believed that money was to be taken care of and
simple living should be the rule. My father, of course, was the exception to
that rule. And someone else in the family tree must have also broken the rule,
because apart from the land, any fortunes were gone by the time I came along.

I
sat down on the floor and carefully removed each item and placed it on the
coffee table. The stairs creaked to signal that Clay was coming down.
Unfortunately, he was clothed now, and rubbed at his hair with a towel.

“Hey.
What have you got there?” He sat beside me on the floor, stretching out his
long legs.

“Just
sorting out the jewelry, I’ve never really had a proper look before.” I pulled
out a simple wedding band that was in need of a good clean. It was small and
must have belonged to a woman. I could just imagine some austere Larsen
purchasing it and recording it like any business transaction as if marriage
were a duty and romance a nonsensical notion. I smiled; I could just imagine
Josh doing the same thing.

“What
are you smiling at?” Clay asked, peering at me curiously. I must have looked
stupid with this smile on my face.

“Nothing.”
I resumed pulling pieces out of the box. “I don’t think that there’s much here
that’s interesting. Mostly wedding bands and cufflinks.” Then I spied the red
stone and fished it out. It was a small ring with a garnet set in silver.
Somehow, despite its confinement, it had kept its shine. “This is the most
interesting piece so far.” I held it up to show him and that’s when I caught
sight of the engraving.

“To
M, Fate makes you mine, Love Always, D,” I read aloud. “That’s romantic. Thank
god some of my relatives had romantic bones in their bodies. I was beginning to
lose hope.”

“May
I?”

I
placed the ring in his outstretched hand and watched as he began to turn it
around and examine it carefully.

“I
wonder if it belonged to the skeleton. It would be nice to think that someone
loved her before she died.” Then I frowned. “Unless the person who gave her
this ring was the one to wall her up.”  I shivered. “That doesn’t bear thinking
about…”

His
eyes were still firmly trained on that ring as if he were entranced by it. I
wondered if he was listening to me, but then he spoke. “You know what? I’m not
really in the mood for going over all of this today. I’ll concentrate better
tomorrow. I’ll pack this all up, and then let’s have an early dinner. I don’t
know about you, but that food at the diner was pretty bad.”

I
laughed in reply. “Yeah. It was. I’ll heat us up some soup.”

“That’d
be great. I’ll take care of all of this.” He indicated to the jewelry sitting
out on the coffee table before he started to place it back in the box.

Before
I put the soup on, I went down to the basement to grab a bottle of wine. As I
reached for the bottle, I felt something cold on my neck, but I didn’t scream
or freak out. I had spent a lot of my childhood down here and these occurrences
weren’t rare. I turned, and of course there was nothing but the gaping hole in
the wall.

“Are
you the lady in the wall?” I asked softly. “Is it your ring that I found? Are
you M?”

But
there was nothing in response, and I took two bottles firmly in hand and
started up the stairs. Clay was waiting for me in the kitchen and took the wine
from me.

“The
box is back in the safe.” He moved to the cabinet and removed two wine glasses.

“Thank
you.” I began to heat up the pre-made soup that I had purchased. Because I
didn’t go into town that often, I had a lot of ready-made items.  At least,
that was what I told myself; it was easier to pretend my isolation out here was
the reason for it, but the truth was that even if I were in the city, I still would
probably only be cooking for one.  

He
filled a glass with merlot and placed it beside me, a grin of his face.

I
frowned. “What?”

He
didn’t wipe the smile from his face. “It’s just that you’re heating soup up
from a can. I always think of you as the homely type who cooks from scratch.”

I
laughed. “Why would you think that?”

He
shrugged. “I don’t know. Just because you’re so sweet and you strike me as the
homemaker type with a dozen kids running around your feet.”

“Kids?
I can’t even imagine that.” I stirred the soup, which was beginning to boil.
The idea of me making anything from scratch was laughable. I was a terrible
cook. “How about you? Do you want kids?”

He
shook his head as he leaned against the counter beside me and sipped his wine.
“No way. I definitely do not want children.”

“You
sound so sure. I mean, you’re still young, you might change your mind.”

“I
don’t think so. I’m thirty-four and I have never had the desire.” He looked
serious for a moment before relaxing. “I think that you’d make a great Mom
though.”

“Oh,
really? I might decide to be like mine and never rise before noon and always
order in,” I teased. “What was yours like?”

He
took another sip of wine, and it seemed like he was thinking carefully about
his answer. “She was…troubled.”

“I’m
sorry. Whatever ‘troubled’ means, it can’t have been much fun growing up with,”
I told him, and hoped that I sounded genuine.

He
met my eyes for a second, that serious look had reappeared, and then he seemed
to shrug it off and took a breath. “I’ll grab some bowls. Which cupboard?”

I
pointed and he pulled two down and placed them beside me so I could pour the
soup in. The electricity flickered off again, but it was still dusk and Clay
effortlessly located the candles and matches like he’d lived here forever. As
the candlelight illuminated the wine, it appeared the exact red of the garnet
in the silver ring. I wondered what mysteries that ring held, and hoped that
any secrets were innocent.

“Have
you read many of the books here?” Clay asked as we dined together.

“Nearly
all of them.” I took a sip of my wine. “I used to have a stutter when I was a
kid and my aunt would make me stand in the parlor after dinner each night and
read passages until I managed to get them right.”

He
frowned. “She sounds like a witch.”

I
let out a laugh. “That’s what the local kids always called her. Actually
though, I think it was her way of trying to help me. My parents didn’t really
have the time.”
Or the inclination,
I silently added.

“What
did she make you read?” he asked, draining his glass before topping up his and
then mine.

“Edgar
Allan Poe mostly. I think I still remember most of them off by heart.”

“Creepy.
Or so I hear. I’m not really one for reading.”

“Really?
That’s surprising considering you have a PhD in history.” I remembered the “Dr”
before his name on the book jacket of one of his books that he’d brought with
him.

He
caught my eyes and looked suddenly serious before relaxing into an easy smile.
“Fiction, I meant.”

“Oh,
okay.” I reached for my wine. “I’ll show you the family bible tomorrow. It’s
locked away in a desk because it’s so old and fragile. It goes back about a
hundred years and has the family tree recorded in it.” I should have really
shown it to him long before this, but secretly I just wanted to stretch out his
time with me as much as possible. I nearly cringed at how needy I was being.

“That
would be great, Mattie.” He eyed my glass and grinned. “Anyway, drink up. I
love when you’re drunk. You’re so uninhibited. It’s great.”

“Am
I?” That didn’t sound like me.

“Yeah.
You’re this demure, shy thing during the day, but at night you turn into a
wildcat.” He made claw like motions with his fingers.

I
laughed. “Stop teasing.” But I didn’t mind because he was kind, not like Josh
and his mocking. I drank up just like he said.

“It’s
not teasing. It’s truth.”

When
my glass was empty, he gently took it from my hand and placed it down on the
table. “Will you undress for me?” he asked. “Slowly, in the candlelight so I
can see every curve and contour of your body.

I
could see the lust in his eyes, and it empowered me. I felt desirable and
worshipped by what I saw there. I stood slowly, and started to slide my clothes
from my skin. I wore a black bra and panty set courtesy of Erin. It had never
been worn before, and as I had slipped on the delicate garments that morning, I
had paused to admire myself. Suddenly, I saw a woman instead of that
downtrodden little girl who did whatever she was told and believed those around
her when they called her ugly and stupid.

As
I stood in just the bra and panties, I boldly moved forward to where he was
seated and positioned myself between his legs as I rested my hands on his
shoulder. I could feel his hard muscles beneath his clothes and I desperately
wanted to feel his bare skin.

“Your
turn,” I told him softly with a seduction that surprised even me.

“Gladly.”
A half smiled played on his lips as he started to strip on my command. I bit my
lip as I waited for him to be naked and start to touch me. He did not
disappoint.

We
caught each other’s eyes in the dim light, and for a moment neither of us moved
as if we were spellbound. Then he broke it. His hands reached down to scoop me
up and place me on the table, flat on my back as his lips hungrily came down on
mine. For a brief moment, visions of a lion tearing at his prey came to me, but
then they disappeared as a fog of lust prevented any coherent thought from
forming in my brain. My body responded with an equal hunger as my hands clawed
into his ass as he leaned over me, urging him closer and closer. I wanted him
in me, on me, I
needed
him
now
.

Like
he read my unstable and frenzied mind, he thrust into me with his own sense of urgency,
and my legs wrapped around him to pull and hold him to me as I arched up to
meet him. I inhaled his scent, licked at his skin, and bit down on his shoulder
as I began to clench around him. He hissed as I bit before giving a half laugh
and covering my mouth with his.

He
flipped us so I could ride him. I ground down hard on him while he grinned up
at me, his hands gripping at my breasts as I arched my back to thrust them
forward into his touch. They felt full and heavy, and unbelievably sensitive. I
cried out as I came, swearing like I was possessed.

Later,
we screwed on the staircase, and then after, we ended up in my bed. I lay with
my head resting on his chest as we both struggled to get our breaths back. I
traced his muscles with my finger and let out a laugh that was drowsy and
exhausted.

“What?”
he asked as he stroked my hair.

“Nothing.”
I didn’t want to tell him that I couldn’t believe that someone who looked like
him was in my childhood bed. It was hard to believe that the shy, lonely girl
who had sometimes cried herself to sleep in this room had someone like him
lusting after her. I couldn’t tell him any of this, so I responded by kissing
him instead. He seemed content with that.

Sunlight
slipping in through a crack in the curtain woke me first. I opened my eyes
slightly and reached for Clay. But he wasn’t there. My bed was empty. I sat up
and reached for my robe, covering my skin that still smelled like him and lust.
I grinned as I tied the robe around me, remembering the things that we had done
last night. I had felt so alive, and for the first time, I felt like a creature
with some kind of power, even if it were only sexual.

I
stepped into the hallway, expecting to hear him down below in the kitchen, but
there was only silence. The door to his bedroom was wide open and the bed
neatly made. I peered inside, and stopped with a silent dread as I saw what
wasn’t there. The floor, the shelves…they were all bare. I nearly choked, and
took a step back, spinning on my heel and heading for the bathroom. But his things
were all gone from there as well.

I
ran down the stairs, and it took me less than a minute to realize that I was
the only living soul in the house. Still clad in my robe and barefoot, I ran
outside and across to the shed. The old doors creaked ominously as I yanked
them open to reveal only an empty space next to my car. For a moment, I
struggled to breathe. The old shed could have collapsed right then on top of me
and I wouldn’t have cared. I managed to drag in several deep breaths before
walking back to the house as I blinked back tears.

Once
the door was safely closed behind me, I leaned against it and slid down to the
floor as I blinked back tears.
You’re so stupid, Matilda,
I told myself.
Stop acting so stupid. He left, so what? He didn’t promise you anything, he
didn’t tell you that you were special. It was only lust and your stupid weak
starving heart thought it was something more…

I
must have sat there for at least an hour, misery making the time pass more
slowly. I was determined not to cry. I should have gotten to my feet and
showered.  I should have shrugged off the whole affair for what it was —a fun
fling. I had nearly talked myself into moving when a sharp rap at the door had
me jumping to my feet in fright. I pulled the door open, my heart in my throat
at the thought that Clay had returned.

But
it wasn’t him. It was Marie peering at me oddly. “Are you sick, dear? Is that
man still here to look after you?”

I
pulled my robe tighter around me. “Um, no, he’s gone,” I said weakly.

“I
see.” She gave a slight nod. “Well, I’m here now. Let me make you some tea or
something.”

“That’s
not necessary—“

She
barged past me anyway and went to the kitchen. I stared after her before
closing the door and following. I sat at the table and watched as she busied
herself heating water and looking through cupboards until she found everything
she needed while I sat helplessly and mute. When she had two mugs filled with
steaming hot tea, she sat down beside me.

“It’s
quite concerning a young girl living all the way out here alone,” she told me.
“Doesn’t your mother worry?”

I
wrapped my hands around the mug and welcomed the burn that I felt. “We’re
estranged.”

She
gave a nod and didn’t seem surprised by that information as she reached into
her bag. “I’d better confess my motives for being here. I picked up your mail
and I couldn’t help but notice this.” She tapped on the envelope that she had
pulled out and the black and red logo of the Hellman Corporation glared at me.
I let out a groan and really did feel like being sick, but I took it from her
anyway. I had pushed it out of my mind for the last few days, but it obviously
wasn’t going anywhere. “The thing is they’ve approached us about buying the
land that we lease from you. My husband and I want to buy it; we’ve done well
in recent years and would like to expand.” She cleared her throat. “The only
thing is…I know that they’re taking the land from you and I feel bad—“

“Don’t,”
I said abruptly, then smiled to soften my tone as I opened the letter. “Don’t
feel bad. It’s good that it goes to you. They’re determined to take it from me.
They won’t listen to any negotiations, they wanted it paid in full by last
month and there was no way that I could come up with the money.” I waved the
letter at her, it was an eviction notice just like I had expected. “What will
you do with the house?” I hoped that she didn’t hear the crack in my voice as I
asked that.

She
shook her head sadly at me. “The offer doesn’t include the house, only the
land. I don’t know what they’re doing with this part of it.”

I
shrugged like it didn’t matter. That company had stonewalled me at every turn.
They wouldn’t take my calls and the lawyer that I had consulted had told me
there was nothing that I could do to fight them. “I guess that I should start
packing,” I said listlessly.

Marie
gave me a comforting pat on the hand. “I’ll leave you to it then.” She stood
and gathered her things while I made no attempt at moving. I felt her eyes on
me and I forced my head up to give her a smile because I wasn’t capable of much
else.

“Look,
Matilda,” she said hesitantly. “That man who was with you…is he from around
here?”

“I
don’t think so, he never said.” Actually, he hadn’t really spoken about himself
much. I had no idea where he was from. “He writes history books. I guess he
travels all over. Why?”

She
took a breath, and then settled herself back down in her chair again. “It’s
just how he looked; with those black eyes and that black hair…Can I tell you a
story?”

“Okay,”
I said warily.

“When
my family came over from Ireland at the turn of the last century with a group
of people from their village. There’s a photograph that was taken of them
before they boarded the boat. Your man looked remarkably like one of them.”

I
frowned. “Really?”

“This
boy stood out because of his remarkable good looks. Daniel Riordan was his name,
and he was a real ladies man. He made a name for himself when they arrived
because he went around seducing all the daughters and sometimes the wives in
this community.”

I
let out a laugh, even though it was the opposite of how I was feeling. “That
must have been very scandalous for the time.”

“It
was,” Marie continued, her brow furrowed. “He was a trouble maker. He may have
been out for a harmless bit of fun, but the women who succumbed to his advances
were labeled whores and beaten or ostracized by their families. They called him
‘The Dark Man’ because of his dark hair and eyes, and his selfish actions.”

“What
happened to him?” I asked.

She
shrugged. “He disappeared. They say that he ran off with the young wife of
Edwin Larsen.”

I
arched an eyebrow, my interest caught. “Really?”

She
nodded.  “Believe me; it was hugely scandalous because they both disappeared at
the same time. The Larsens weren’t popular back then of course being wealthy
landowners. Some say that Old Edwin got what he deserved, but with that
skeleton turning up in your house…”

“You
think it’s the wife? What was her name?” I leaned forward, eager to have my
mystery solved.

“I
don’t know. I’ll see what I can find out.” She patted my hand again as she
stood. “I just thought it ironic that someone who looked like that handsome
young man ended up in the Larsen house.” She gave me a knowing smile. “You were
obviously very taken with him.”

I
blushed. “I—“

“I’m
sorry. I didn’t say it to embarrass you. You’re a young woman. You should be
having fun and living life. I’m just sorry that he’s gone. Do you think that
you’ll see him again?”

I
shook my head.

“Oh,
well, there’s plenty more fish in the sea. I’ll call in tomorrow and see if
you’re feeling better.” I waited until she left before I went to my aunt’s desk
and pulled out the family Bible. The writing in the front was worn but the name
Edwin Larsen was clearly written in a flowing script and next to his name where
his wife should have been recorded was a mess of ink. Someone’s name had been
scratched out as if to void her existence. Next to it was the name Diana and
the year of their marriage. This was obviously the second wife who had provided
him with children.  I ran my hand over the ink blots that were long dried, my
own problems forgotten and my mind was transfixed on this woman who had dared
to anger her husband for the sake of what was hopefully true love.

“Were
you in love with Daniel?” I asked softly. “Did you leave with him?” There was
no response, and I remembered the ring. Putting the book aside I went to the
safe and pulled out the box of jewelry and began to rifle through it, searching
for the garnet that was dark as a drop of blood to shine through all the
sensibility of my ancestors’ pasts.

But
it wasn’t there.  It was gone.