A Dreadful Splendor (83)

With the wind pulling at my curls, the mist lifted, revealing an impossible image ahead. Time seemed to stop completely. She stood at the cliff’s edge like she had been waiting for us. Long blond hair swirled around an angelic face as her arms reached out in a pleading gesture. Her mouth was open in a silent scream. I couldn’t speak, for death had me by the sternum, pulling me forward.

There was a ramming to Sadie’s side, making me lose my grip. Mr. Pemberton raced beside me. In one quick motion, he grabbed Sadie’s reins, grinding us to a halt at the cliff’s edge. The mare threw her head back and screamed, rearing up on her hind legs. Pebbles kicked out from under her hoofs, soaring down toward the jutting rocks below, lost to the violent surf.

Mr. Pemberton took hold of my waist and pulled me onto his horse in front of him. I turned toward his chest and clutched his coat’s lapels as Sadie continued to snort and kick in a temper tantrum. I couldn’t stand to watch; I pressed my face into his shoulder. A black vignette crept into the corners of my vision, and I let it swallow me.





Chapter Fifty




I was in a state of shock as I was carried up the grand staircase and placed atop my bed. Whoever carried me must have had a key to my room. Everything was numb, and yet I realized that I was shaking. The incident played again and again in my mind. The salt in my lungs. The mare’s cries. The voice calling out to me.

Seeing her.

Was it possible that everything Maman had taught me was wrong? Despite the warm duvet that was laid over me, goose bumps crept across my arms.

They had called Dr. Barnaby. The irony was not lost on me that Sadie’s stunt had resulted in a private meeting with him.

After a quick exam and a few questions, he administered a tonic to ease my nerves. It helped immensely, and I was able to get my mind in order. Then he settled into the chair beside my bed. There was a tray with tea and a plate of sliced bread and preserves on the small table, but I had no appetite. The rain ran down in thick rivulets against the windows.

“You’ve given Pemberton quite a fright,” Dr. Barnaby said. “He’ll never forgive himself for letting you ride Sadie. She may be old, but she can still be unpredictable.”

“It wasn’t anyone’s fault,” I said, too tired to explain my reasoning. “Something spooked the horse. I couldn’t stop it.” I kept the rest of the story to myself. It wasn’t unnatural for a spiritualist to see ghosts—except when it was.

“Yes, and if he hadn’t been there, you both may have ended up at the bottom of the cliff.”

True. I would never forget the sound Sadie made as she came up short of the edge, like she had realized at the last second what was about to happen. It was a thousand times more horrific than a mare foaling.

“Luckily, the tide was high, though,” he said. “If you had gone over, you would have at least stood a chance.” He shook his head. “But sometimes luck isn’t enough.”

There was a hitch to his voice. Once, I might have assumed he was expressing sympathy for my own situation; now I recognized that he was reminiscing about his secret lover. The tonic was starting to blur my mind. I had to make the most of this private encounter before I fell asleep.

“Yes,” I said, letting myself sound feeble, hoping my weakness would disguise any threat in my next words. “I hope Sadie will recover. Joseph told me she was Audra’s favourite.” He only nodded, saying nothing. I tried again. “It must have been such an awful time. Were you with Mr. Pemberton the day he discovered her missing? The morning of the wedding?”

“As his best man, I stayed with him all night in the cottage at the edge of the property.”

His answer only further proved that he was a skilled liar. I chanced pushing again. “You were with him all night? You didn’t leave for any reason?”

He tilted his chin at me, suspicion flaring across his face. “Despite his cool demeanour, Pemberton can be rather anxious. You can imagine how it must have been for him, suddenly coming into possession of an estate the scale of Somerset. His world was about to change forever.”

I lay back against my pillow, considering his words. Dr. Barnaby poured himself a cup of tea. There were dark circles under his eyes. “The tonic is making you groggy,” he said. “Just close your eyes, Miss Timmons. Rest is the best medicine.”

“Perhaps you could use some tonic yourself,” I said, fighting against the exhaustion. “I understand you had a full day’s work ahead of you in the village, and here you are, back again to Somerset. You must be tired, keeping a watch on Mrs. Donovan, and now myself.”

Dr. Barnaby ignored my comment; he was probably hoping I’d soon be asleep. Either way, I was growing weary of his fa?ade. I may not know much about passion and romance, but lovers who pined for their dearly departed were my specialty.

“This house has many spirits, Dr. Barnaby, and they’ve been speaking to me.”

The teacup paused halfway to his lips. His gaze met my own, unreadable. “Pardon?”

I had looked into the eyes of many skeptics, but he was listening to me. “Ghosts only haunt when they need a message delivered,” I began. “The only way to clear a house of a spirit is to make their desires known.”

His Adam’s apple moved up and down. The teacup was still frozen in his grip.

“Audra told me about you,” I finally said.