Forbidden Secrets (8 page)

And he has been so wonderful in so many other ways. Savannah could tell he truly wanted her and Victoria to be happy.

She heard the gentle strains of a violin floating toward her. She sighed softly. I wonder if that is Tyler playing?

It was her last thought as she drifted off to sleep.

Something cold brushed against Savannah's cheek.

She still felt tired, too tired to open her eyes.

A draft, she thought. This room is filled with drafts.

The cold touch came again. Cold and
wet.
What is that?

Savannah opened her eyes. She saw a calico tail swishing back and forth at the top of her quilt.

Savannah sat up and pulled back the covers. A small cat stared up at her. It nudged her cheek with its cold little nose.

“Where did you come from?” she asked.

The cat purred and licked her hand with its rough tongue. Savannah smiled.

The door opened and a young woman wearing a black uniform ran in. She wore her bright red hair in two braids beneath a white lace cap. Light freckles dotted her face.

Her gray eyes widened and she came to a dead stop when she saw that Savannah was awake. She bobbed a quick curtsy.

“Oh, miss, I am so sorry. The cat slipped away from me.”

Savannah stroked the cat's fur. Its purr vibrated low in its throat. “Don't be silly. He's sweet. What's his name?”

“Calico.” The young woman blushed.

“I like the name,” Savannah told her.

The woman bobbed another curtsy. “My name is Hattie.”

“I'm Savannah.”

“Yes, miss, I know. Mr. Fier hired me this morning as a maid for you and your sister.” Her cheeks pinkened as she peered at Savannah through her long lashes. “He told me you were the pretty one.”

Savannah felt herself blush at Tyler's compliment. He is certainly spoiling me, she thought. I should do something special for him. But what?

She remembered his smile as she walked into the dining room wearing the blue gown. I will wear it again this evening, she thought.

“Hattie, would you do me a favor? Would you press my blue silk dress for me? It's hanging in the closet.”

Hattie bobbed up and down. “Certainly, miss.” With a light bounce in her step, she crossed the room and opened the closet door.

“The dress is lovely, isn't it?” Savannah asked when she heard Hattie's quick intake of breath.

Hattie turned to face her. All color had drained from the girl's face.

“What is it, Hattie?” Savannah cried. “What's wrong?”

Chapter

18

“T
he dress, miss. It's . . . it's . . .” Hattie reached into the closet and pulled the dress out. She held it up for Savannah to see.

Savannah gasped in disbelief. Long, jagged tears ran from the shoulders to the hem.

Savannah eased the cat off her lap and slipped out of bed. She shuddered as her feet hit the ice-cold stone floor.

“Oh, no,” she murmured as she ran her fingers over the rips. Her beautiful dress! How did this happen? Savannah wondered. It couldn't have been an accident.

“Your dress is ruined!”

Startled by Lucy's voice, Savannah spun around. The younger girl had come in without knocking and was staring at the dress.

How long had she been there? Savannah wondered. Was she listening outside the door?

“Tyler gave you that dress, didn't he?” Lucy asked.

“Yes, he did,” Savannah said.

Lucy frowned. “He said you were beautiful. He'll be sad when he finds out it was ruined.”

“Yes, he will be sad,” Savannah replied. “So I don't want to tell him. I want to keep it a secret.”

Lucy's eyes glittered. “I'm good at keeping secrets.” She reached out and took Savannah's hand. “I'm so glad you're finally awake. I want to show you my doll collection.”

“I will get dressed,” Savannah told her.

“But I've been waiting all morning. Please come now.”

Lucy's excitement was contagious. I'm glad that she lived so far north, away from the war. It would have changed her so.

“All right,” Savannah said. She pulled on her dressing gown. “Show me your dolls.”

Lucy tugged Savannah across the hall. “This is my room,” she said with pride. She opened the door and skipped in.

Savannah followed Lucy into the room, not surprised to find the room decorated in black.

It was wrong to do this to a child's room, she thought. And Lucy is still a child. Her room was filled with dolls—on the bed, on the dresser, on the shelves, on the floor. Porcelain dolls. Rag dolls.

A cold draft caused goose bumps to form along Savannah's arms. All the dolls had black hair like Lucy's, she noticed. All the dolls had black eyes. All the dolls wore black dresses.

Are the dolls all in mourning just like this house? she wondered. What a joyless place for a child to grow up.

Lucy flung herself across her bed. Two dolls leaning against the headboard fell forward. Lucy picked one up and hugged it close against her.

“These are all my friends,” Lucy said solemnly. “Tyler always brings me a new doll every time he goes away.”

Savannah sat on the edge of the bed. How sad that Lucy doesn't have any real friends. “I would like to be your friend too,” she said.

Lucy's forehead wrinkled. “I don't think you can.”

“Why not?” Savannah asked. She tried not to feel hurt. Lucy would need some time to get used to her.

Lucy shook her head. “We can't be friends because Tyler brought you here to live. So we're almost sisters. I have always wanted a sister. I think a sister would be much better than a friend.”

Savannah hugged Lucy close. “I have always wanted another sister.”

Lucy hopped off the bed and picked up a rag doll from a rocking chair. The doll was as tall as Lucy.

“Tyler gave me this doll first,” she said, smiling brightly. “Don't you think she's pretty?”

“She's very pretty,” Savannah assured her. “What's her name?”

“Her name is Lucy.” She dropped the doll back into the chair. “Which doll do you like best?”

Savannah pretended to consider the question with great seriousness. “I'm not sure,” she said. She stood and tapped her finger against her lips. “They are all so pretty.”

“You have to pick one,” Lucy insisted.

Savannah walked around the room, studying all the dolls. Lucy grinned with delight.

Savannah spotted a doll lying on its side on top of the dresser bureau. Its profile was perfect: a small nose, a ruddy cheek, thin lips, a large, shining black eye.

I'll pick this doll, Savannah decided. She lifted it up and gasped.

The other side of the doll's face was smashed in. Tiny bits of jagged china formed a gaping hole where the eye had been.

“What happened to this doll?” Savannah asked Lucy.

“I killed her.”

Chapter

19

L
ucy's black eyes were big and serious. Savannah felt a chill sweep through her.

Then Lucy began to giggle. “I didn't really kill her. She fell off the bureau. That's how she broke her face.”

Savannah released her breath with a
whoosh.

Lucy sighed. “She was the prettiest doll. The other dolls were happy when she got hurt.”

She's teasing me, Savannah thought, fighting off a feeling of alarm. “They weren't really happy,” Savannah said.

“Yes, they were,” Lucy insisted. “They were very happy Lucy got hurt.”

Savannah felt confused. “I thought the big doll in the rocker was named Lucy.”

“Silly Savannah,” Lucy exclaimed. “All the dolls are named Lucy.”

Lucy glanced around the room. Then she leaned close to Savannah. “Except one,” she whispered. Lucy crooked her finger. “Follow me.”

Savannah set the porcelain doll back on the dresser and followed Lucy to the closet. Lucy opened the door and pulled out a large doll.

“This is Tyler,” she said proudly. She sat down and placed the doll in her lap.

Savannah studied the strange doll. Its black hair was cropped short and was longer on one side than the other. Its clothes were a little too big. And its eyes. Its eyes were blue.

“He does look like Tyler,” Savannah told Lucy.

“I made him,” Lucy explained. “I told Tyler I wanted a boy doll, but he always brought me girl dolls. So I cut off this doll's hair. And one day when Mrs. Mooreland made blueberry cobbler, I stole some juice and painted the eyes blue.”

“That was very clever,” Savannah said, impressed by Lucy's efforts.

“And I snuck into the attic and found some of the clothes Tyler wore when he was tiny,” she said. Her eyes gleamed. “Don't tell Tyler. He doesn't like me sneaking though the house.”

Savannah smiled. “Since you're keeping my secret about the dress, it's only fair that I keep your secret about the doll.”

“I like sharing secrets,” Lucy whispered. “Someday I will tell you all the secrets.”

♦ ♦ ♦

Secrets, Savannah thought as she left Lucy's room and crossed the hall. When I was Lucy's age, I loved
secrets too. But I shared all my secrets with Victoria.

She opened the door to her room and froze. Victoria stood beside her bed, slipping something beneath her pillow.

“Victoria, what are you doing?” Savannah demanded.

Victoria jumped away from the bed. “Nothing.”

Savannah crossed the room in quick strides. She grabbed her pillow and lifted it.

Tiny dots of blood stained the pillow. And in the center rested something wet and spongy. A tiny eyeball!

“Oh, Victoria, what have you done?” Savannah asked. She couldn't tear her gaze from the dark brown eye.

“It's a hawk's eye,” Victoria explained. “It will protect you from the evil.”

“I don't need protection!” Savannah snapped. She snatched up the eye, shuddering as its coldness seeped into her palm.

“No!” Victoria cried.

Savannah threw the eye into the fire. It hissed and sizzled. Good, Savannah thought.

Savannah wiped her hand on the pillowcase. Then she pulled off the case and tossed it on the floor.

“Victoria, you must stop this,” Savannah demanded. Then she looked closely at her sister for the first time since she entered the room.

Savannah's anger drained away. “Your hair,” she gasped. “Victoria, what happened to your hair?”

A thick white streak ran through Victoria's brown hair.

Victoria sank onto the bed, pressing her hands against her face. “It's the evil,” she murmured. “The evil in this house is powerful. It did this to me.”

My poor sister, Savannah thought. She knelt in front of Victoria. “Some women get white hair at our age. Remember Mrs. Speergen?”

“No! It's the evil. I felt its cold touch during the night.”

“The fire in your hearth must have gone out,” Savannah insisted. Everything has an explanation, Savannah thought. Everything.

“All this black doesn't help either,” Savannah said. “That will be our first job—redecorating the whole house. We'll start with your room. When we're done, Blackrose Manor will be as cozy and warm as Whispering Oaks.”

“No!” Victoria stood and began pacing. “You don't understand. If we stay here, one of us will die!
Die,
Savannah.”

She is so frightened. She wants to leave so desperately, Savannah realized. What would she do to convince me to leave the manor? Would she destroy the dress Tyler gave me?

Savannah rose and walked to her closet. She pulled out the ruined dress. “Victoria, did you do this?” she asked gently. “Did you hope to frighten me into leaving? I will understand if you did. I promise.”

“No!” she exclaimed. Then her eyes narrowed. “I bet Lucy tore up your dress. She's jealous of you because she wants Tyler for herself.”

“Lucy is just a child,” she protested. “She has a young girl's crush on Tyler. Nothing more.”