Katherine rose and moved to stand before the fireplace, May-Jewel’s words playing in her mind. Could Alex have planned to rid his path of all of Robert’s heirs, of his mistresses and their children? She didn’t like Alex, but she wasn’t sure that he was capable of such a heinous plot. Yet Charles was dead. Maybe it wasn’t because he knew Garth or because he read that letter. Maybe it was something else! Did Charles guess that Alex was guilty of a murderous act? Was he responsible for Angelique’s death in a fire? A fire!
“My mother died in a fire too.” Katherine’s face paled, and she shuddered. “It couldn’t be a coincidence that both our mothers died the same way.”
May-Jewel picked up the heart-shaped pin cushion from the silky pile of material. Engrossed in thought, she fidgeted with it. “I think Alexander Fleming has more to account for than Charles’ death. I think he killed… ouch!” she cried, dropping the cushion and sticking her finger in her mouth. “Those horrid little pins!”
“Let me see.” Taking her sister’s hand, Katherine observed, “Oh, it’s only a scratch. Go on with what were you saying.”
Using her handkerchief, May-Jewel blotted the tiny dots of blood that had oozed on her finger. “I - I don’t remember what I was saying,” she uttered, suddenly feeling confused and dizzy. Katherine resumed her conversation, but May-Jewel couldn’t understand her for her words sounded slurred and hollow. May-Jewel fanned her face for suddenly the room became like an oven. The heat rose within her temples and then boiled until she thought her head would explode, and she couldn’t think. Somewhere, far beyond her, May-Jewel heard her name, and she tried to focus on the woman’s face that floated before her. The voice seemed to swell into a thunderous roar then squeeze into a piercing whistle. A searing fire blazed in May-Jewel’s chest, and she moved her mouth to cry out, but no sound came forth. She pushed herself off the bed and away from the woman, whose face seemed to stretch into grotesque shapes.
Katherine watched in horror as her sister floundered about the room. She grabbed her shoulders. “May-Jewel, what’s the matter with you? What’s wrong?”
May-Jewel broke from Katherine’s grasp, her mouth frozen in a silent scream, her eyes seeing only threatening forms and shadows. She violently shoved Katherine, who fell against the stone mantle of the fireplace, knocking the wind from her.
Driven by the hadean heat that ravaged her body and the strident sounds exploding in her brain, May-Jewel staggered from the room, down the stairs, and out of the manor.
Her feet slowed as she entered the garden. Flashes of images now floated before her eyes. Suddenly, strands of music entered her consciousness, and she followed the sound to the gazebo. The notes heightened her sensibility, and she stood weaving to their rhythm. A silvery wash of light pierced the murky darkness that had surrounded her. She stared at the scene that materialized before her, watching as a platinum-gowned spectre and a tinseled phantom danced out of the shadows like paper dolls spinning in the wind. May-Jewel wanted to dance with them. She stumbled up the steps and entered the black and silver scene. Immediately, as if her uninvited presence disrupted the pulse of time, the dancing pair stood motionless. The phantom turned his hollow eyes unto her, his arms held out. A veil of recognition dipped in her fevered mind.
“Robbie!”
The heat that had forced her from the manor and seared her soul was suddenly replaced by a wave of coolness. The music rose to a deafening pitch as lifeless arms swept her about the gazebo. Faster and faster they spun her. The insufferable heat blazed again in her body until even the soles of her feet seemed to burn as they touched the wooden deck of the gazebo. The phantom held her tighter, his gloved hand seeming to sear her flesh as his rigid fingers, like hot iron nails, dug into her ribs. Briny droplets like acid, rolled down his cheeks, peeling strips of flesh from his gray face.
Flailing her empty arms about, May-Jewel spun around. Her own frantic dance continued until the music was drowned out by a sudden crack of thunder as the gazebo floor gave way from beneath her. Sharp protruding stones and blunted ledges of earth punched her unconscious form as she plummeted past their ancient hands toward the bottom of the well.
Chapter Fourteen
Catching her breath, Katherine rose and hurried after her sister. She exited the manor in time to hear the sound of splintering wood. Running into the garden, she stared in horror at the collapsed structure.
“May-Jewel!”
Inching slowly on her hands and knees, Katherine made her way to the edge of the gaping hole. But she drew back, choking, blinded by the dirt that swirled in the air about her. She couldn’t even see her sister, let alone rescue her. Tears of anguish burned her eyes. The longer she stared at the hole, the more she fought hysteria.
“Help! Help! Someone help me!” She screamed.
She knew she needed to get help. But she also knew that the only other person around was Brice, and she hesitated to call upon him. But he was better than no one. Katherine raced back toward the manor and almost collided with the vicar as he rounded the corner.
“David!” she cried, her heart almost bursting with thankfulness. “Oh, where have you been?”
“I’m sorry, Katherine, but I had to leave to-”
“Never mind that now,” she interrupted. “We need a rope! May-Jewel’s fallen down the well!”
“The well? Where?”
Katherine led him back to the remains of the
