The diary chronicled her mother’s life from the day she had wed Sir Henry St. Clair, until the day before she died. It was an emotional rendition about the love of her life, and the fear she would later feel. As she neared the end, it became so chilling that Marlene had shivers trailing up and down her spine with foreboding.
I am without hope. At least that is what the finest physicians in London have told me. They say I am to prepare myself for the death of my daughter, my sole child born of my body. I cannot express the amount of grief I am feeling in this moment, and I refuse to believe that there is not another option to be found. I have heard of secret covens about the city, and I am determined to seek out their assistance. Henry will forbid me, of course, which is why I mustn’t reveal anything to him. My heart aches for this deception, but I am left with little choice but to explore this route…
Marlene started to tremble.
The witch just left. He told me his name was Hector, but he said nothing further. He came in the guise of a man of science, but I knew better because I had specifically sought out his coven and paid a small fortune to procure his services. But they were successful. Against all odds, after weeks of prayer and various treatments, he was able to perform a miracle. I am forever indebted to him, and he has ensured it is so. He has found himself infatuated with Marlene and intends to make her his wife when she comes of age. I cannot allow it, of course. How can I subject her to a life of death when I have done everything to save her from such a dark fate?
As she read these passages, Marlene’s heart thumped so loudly that it resounded in her ears and permeated throughout her body. She continued on to the next page, and it struck dread into her very heart and soul.
I am afraid for what might become of my daughter. Of me. I confronted the witch at a ball that was the most frightening thing I’ve ever witnessed. I begged Hector to take payment, my life, in place of that of my child, but he refused. I started to leave, determined that I would flee where he couldn’t find us, perhaps to America, no matter what the cost might be. I would save her. But then something extraordinary occurred. It was both horrifying and gave me the hope I had been denied. Following an altercation that resulted in the lives of many lost, he was removed from his coven and exiled from England. I have found peace at last.
A drop of moisture landed on the page, and Marlene discovered that she was crying. She wiped it away and continued to read. Her mother wrote of life with her husband and daughter, as well as the concerns about the incurring visions, and how she hoped they would cease in time.
The entries were short and uneventful for many years, although she did rejoice in every one of Marlene’s accomplishments, however inconsequential they might have seemed at the time. She claimed to never take anything for granted again and intended to live each day as the gift it was. She wrote of the relief when Marlene’s eighteenth birthday had come and gone and Hector had not returned for her. Her mother was convinced that he had perished.
And then there was the final entry.
I encountered the devil himself, raised from the depths of hell. He found me outside on a walk and told me that it was time he claimed what was rightfully his, that if it hadn’t been for his mercy in raising Marlene from the edge of death, she would have found herself in a grave. He claimed I owed it to him to give my blessing to their union, as well as her hand. I refused. Because of it, my fears from long ago have returned. I feel he will stop at nothing to claim her as his own, but he cannot do so without consent, which I will not give. I must warn my daughter what he is planning, but the courage to tell her and Henry what I’ve done is unbearable. I wonder if they shall look upon me favorably ever again. It is time to make arrangements to flee England as I nearly did before. Tomorrow, I will secure passage on a ship bound for America, and I intend to reveal all to Henry on the way. My wish is to continue to keep Marlene safe, but without a husband to protect her, the duty falls to her parents. I will stop at nothing, I will give my own life, so that she might not suffer my weakness.
May they, someday, forgive me for such an egregious wrong, that they will understand it was done out of the utmost love.
Tears flooded Marlene’s vision by the time she’d finished the volume and closed the cover. She now knew that Hector had murdered her parents as surely as if he’d approached them with a sword and skewered them on his blade. She was convinced that the carriage accident had been on purpose in order for him to claim her.
When Marlene finally wiped her eyes dry from all the tears she had shed, a glance at the mirror showed that her face was pale from both shock and horror at what her mother had been forced to do. She didn’t blame her for her choices. If faced with the same, Marlene knew she would have acted in a similar manner. In the end, her mother had paid the ultimate sacrifice with her own life.
Marlene drew her legs under her and huddled near the comfort of the fire. Knowing that the bed would be more comfortable was not enough of a temptation for her to move. She was frozen through, but not because of the air in the room. It had actually been a rather warm night. It was the concern that Alaric was right, and things were even more dire than she had originally anticipated. Her first thought was that Hector wanted her because she had somehow discovered the ability to read Ostrogoth. She now knew it was much worse. Not only did he have the anticipation of revenge against Alaric, but she now understood that he had reason to despise her as well. Her parents had denied him something else he wanted. It reminded her of something that might have been written by Dionysius of Halicarnassus in his works of Roman Antiquities, a tale of a gift granted, but then ending in revenge.
Marlene closed her eyes to think, and hopefully uncover the rest of the story.
Alaric knocked lightly on the connecting door that led to Marlene’s rooms just before dawn. He was eager to check on her, to ensure that she was sleeping soundly.
However, when there was no answer, he dared to let himself in. He glanced first at the bed, but when he discovered that it was empty and didn’t appeared to have been slept in all night, he glanced about the chamber and spied her curled up in a chair near the fire. Her mother’s journal was clutched close to her chest, as if it were a shield that might somehow protect her from evil.
He walked over and gently gathered her into his arms. When she started to stir, he laid her down on the bed and waved a hand to ensure that she remained with her dreams for as long as she needed. She held the book in her arms and settled back down with a contented sigh. Her reaction touched Alaric’s heart, and he gently brushed a stray hair away from her face.
Upon dressing for the day, he headed down to his study. He met the housekeeper on the way. “Mrs. Bates, it’s fortunate that we should meet. It saves me the trouble of seeking you out.”
“What can I assist you with, Sir Gothry?” The lady clasped her hands before her and waited patiently for him to continue.
“I am expecting some correspondence from London, although I’m not sure when it might be. I will need to be notified of its arrival immediately.”
She inclined her head. “Consider it done.”
He continued on toward his private sanctuary. If there was one thing he was grateful for, it was loyal servants who held a measure of discretion.
As he sat at his desk and proceeded to work on some highly neglected tasks regarding the estate, his mind wandered. He began to think about how he would need to hire more servants once this nightmare with Hector was over. He might be a witch, but it was time he attempted to rejoin society. No doubt his aunt would be pleased if he did, because that would mean Rosedale Heights would have the chance to be filled with merriment for the first time in its long-neglected history.
There were some changes he would have to make first. For one, maybe it was time that the dragons that sat on either side of the grand staircase should be removed and replaced with something a bit more welcoming. Perhaps cherubs.
He scrubbed a hand down his face and had to shake his head.
He’d never thought of such frivolities as redecorating before, but the moment Marlene had entered his life, his thoughts had begun to alter. He was thinking of the future. One that might include her, if she was amenable to the idea.
But again, there was the slight complication of his bloodline. Whatever issue he had would carry the same gifts he did. He wasn’t sure he wanted to condemn an innocent child in that manner, to always be hunted and feared because they were different. It was worse than carrying the title of bastard.
If Alaric died without an heir, he could put an end to the torment that had followed his family for generations. He had always been proud of his heritage, until he considered the threat it now carried because of Hector’s wrath. Alaric would never be faced with a decision to fight a witch if he had never been part of a coven to begin with. But that was what his kind did. There was safety and security in numbers.
However, at one and thirty, he found that he was starting to grow weary of magic and potions. He wanted to live a simple life like any other man, but was such a thing even possible?
