In Rapture (Destined) (9 page)

Chapter 13

Grant
stifled a curse as his feet hit the bottom of the stairs. Some memories were
best left forgotten, which was why some things had been stored in the attic. He
should have just gotten rid of them instead of saving them up for another day.
It had been at least two years since he had last seen that chair. He remembered
when he purchased the rocking chair for Maria. He had commissioned one of the
craftsmen from Winterglen to create the dark mahogany chair. It had leaves and
flowers carved into the headrest and the arms, which he requested, for Maria
had loved the outdoors. She would sit for hours in that chair looking wistfully
through the window to the world outside Wickford Manor. When the last months of
her pregnancy kept her in confinement she had almost felt trapped within her
body. Her eyes would mist over and a desperate sadness had welled deep within
her. Grant had hated keeping her inside, but he had known that the safety of the
mother and the child had depended on it.

When
Sophia was born Maria refused to sit in the chair. She did not want any
reminder of being trapped inside the manor, and she showed great resentment toward
Sophia for it even after she was born. She refused to feed her child, refused
to comfort her, refused to even acknowledge her. It was a sickness that had
grown deep within her, and when the hungry cries carried across the walls of
the manor Grant had no choice but to hire a wet nurse for his child. Maria had
barely looked at Sophia and it had wounded Grant deeply, for Sophia was the
most beautiful light Grant had ever seen. He had hoped that Maria would come
around, that she would show some sort of remorse for the way she neglected the
needs of their child, but when he had confronted her on her behavior she had
flared up at him, blaming him for her melancholy.

Perhaps
Maria had been right. If he had not married her and gotten her with child she
would still be the carefree beautiful woman that Grant had fallen in love with.
At the time he had refused to let those thoughts haunt him, for she should have
known that he would require an heir to Wickford. He turned his back on her at
the height of her tirade and she had flown at him with her nails slicing into
his skin. He had turned around and slapped her in the face, his one attempt at
bringing some kind of reality back into her head. Maria had escaped out the
door, and her body had raced across the grounds of Wickford Manor. She had been
so distracted by her emotions that she had not seen Seamus coming.

Maria
had barely been able to make her way back to Wickford. She had stumbled in a
weary, bloody haze as she fought her way back to the place that she had wanted
nothing more than to escape. Grant had watched helplessly when the women
cleaned her up and tucked her into bed. He had seen the large bite marks on her
arm and had known what they meant right away. Everyone had known. His world,
her world, the whole world had gone black except for one small bright light
that struggled to gain the attention of the ones who should have loved her from
the beginning. He had found solace in the small tiny life. He remembered
sitting in the chair that faced the window, the little child swaddled safely in
his arms. Her eyes had looked up at him so serenely.

Grant
remembered the guilt that entered his heart when they had lost Maria
completely. Sophia had deserved a mother, someone who was intact, someone who
cherished her as much as he longed to, but had been afraid to do. If he had not
confined Maria perhaps this would never have happened. As his child grew he
spent even less time with her. He had ruined her mother. He did not want to
ruin her life too. Grant had hired different women to take care of her needs
and started off on his journey of vengeance, sometimes hoping he would not
return home at all. Death evaded him and even he knew in the end that his life
would not be forfeit, that somewhere along the line he might be redeemed. In
the back of his head he must have known he could have done nothing to change
what happened to Maria. Bradford Marcus had brought home a woman who would suit
as the perfect mother for Sophia, but he had also done much more than that. The
matchmaker had brought home the only woman that seemed to have sparked the
fires within him since the moment he had lost Maria.

It
was attraction, plain and simple. His desire for her was more of a safety net,
a much easier path to travel than loving her ever would be. He would have her
soon and then he would have her again. Grant would devour every inch of her and
melt within her embrace. It had been too long since he had felt the touch of a
woman, and now that he was married to one as desirable as Malinda there was no
reason why he should not have her. He remembered the taut body beneath the gown
with its delectable layers that showed more than any proper gown should have.
Malinda was all prim and proper on the outside, but underneath it all he felt a
rawness that appealed to the emptiness within him. She belonged to him and he
would lay claim to her soon, but for now he had another mission…Sophia.

Grant
made his way to the nursery and was shocked to find that everything Malinda had
told him was accurate. The only thing in the room was a chair facing a wall.
This was never what he had intended for Sophia. He had thought that providing
distance would help keep her safe from the darkness that crowded his heart, but
all he could see was a room with four walls that were tainted with anger and
melancholy. Walls that felt hauntingly familiar, like the absence of life that
defined Maria. He left the room swiftly, slamming the door behind him in his
wake.

He
went in search of Desiree, hoping to glean more information about his daughter.
When he entered the parlor room he was glad to see that Desiree was playing
with Sophia in the middle of the room. She was crooning a sweet song to her as
she braided her hair. Sophia had a small book in her hands and was fascinated
with the pictures that covered the pages. They both looked up at him when they
heard him clear his throat.

“Good
afternoon.” He really did not know what else to say to them. How should he
greet his child? He looked closer at the petite child, and a soft smile lit up
his face. She looked like a little angel sitting so still and patient.

“Good
afternoon, Lord Timberlin. We were just spending some time getting acquainted
here.” The maid did not know whether to stand and greet her lord, or stay
seated on the floor.

Grant
could sense the nervousness in her voice. He put a hand up to stop her from
rising and smiled at her. “No need to explain, Desiree. I am sure you are
fulfilling all expectations. I do have a few things to request.”

Worry
furrowed Desiree’s brow as she looked up at him. “Yes, my lord?”

“I
want Sophia moved to the east wing immediately. The yellow suite would be more
fitting at the end of the hall from the master suite. My wife and I will be
adding more appropriate furnishings as soon as we are able. Since it is a
suite, there is plenty of space for you, as well.” The more Grant thought about
it, the more it made sense. He had never understood why Maria had requested for
the nursery be so far away from them. It had not made sense then, and it
certainly did not make sense now.

“That
is a wise decision, Lord Timberlin. Poor mite has been having the worst night
terrors lately. I think the extra company would make her comfortable.”

“Night
terrors?”

“Sophia
wakes up screaming almost every night, my lord. She’s never said a word, but we
know something is terrifying her.”

Grant
looked down at the darkened eyes of his child. She understood everything around
her very well, for when Desiree had started to talk about the night terrors the
child had almost cringed immediately, and the angel sitting before him was
suddenly occupied with a great sadness. He crouched down low to the floor and
reached out to touch her cheek. “My poor angel. I promise things will be
different now. We will vanquish this darkness yet.”

Grant
stood up and looked back to the maid. “Please take care of her room situation
at once. I think it’s time that Sophia and I spent some time together.”

“Right
away, Lord Timberlin.”

Grant
did not miss the smile that grew slowly across the maid’s face, nor the flash
of fear that flew across Sophia’s face. He did not let it dissuade him from the
path he’d started to pave. He sat down on the floor next to her and reached for
the book. “Hmm. What do you have here, Sophia? Would you like me to read this
to you?” He did not expect her to reach out to him, for he knew that would take
time and patience, but when the child crawled into his lap and tapped the book
with her finger, his heart melted. He spent the next few hours reading anything
and everything to the quietly inquisitive child.

Chapter 14

Malinda
spent a good part of the afternoon sorting through the attic, trying to find
things that were suitable for Sophia’s nursery. When Desiree climbed up the
stairs to interrupt her Malinda could tell that something was amiss. “Is
something wrong, Desiree?”

“My
lady, Lord Timberlin sent me to see to Sophia’s things.”

“Where
is Sophia?”

“With
her father, my lady.”

“I
see.” But she really did not see. She should be happy that Grant was spending
time with Sophia, but part of her was on apprehensive. He seemed rough around
the edges, and a fearful child could easily be scared by such a gruff nature. “I
should go check on them.”

“My
lady?”

As
Malinda was already making her way around the boxes, she turned toward Desiree.
“What is it, Desiree?”

“She
is doing quite fine with her father right now. No need to worry.”

Malinda’s
eyebrows rose in consternation. How did she know what her intentions were?
Malinda let out a long sigh and closed her eyes. “Am I that readable?”

“Anyone
that has had a chance to know you knows you love that child, my lady. Of course
you would be wary of her getting hurt. But think on this; Lord Timberlin has
been greatly hurt too.”

Malinda
suddenly felt deflated. She turned back to the boxes behind her and started to
pull more things out. “Very well, Desiree. Help me sort through these things
while you tell me all about my dear husband.”

“I
don’t think that is wise, my lady.” Desiree came closer and started to work
through the boxes.

“Nothing
usually is, dear girl, but if I am to understand my husband then someone should
fill me in on why he is so hard to understand.”

When
Desiree started to open her mouth a draft of cold air shot through the attic. “I
dare not.”

An
icy chill crept up her spine as Malinda looked around her. She realized that
they were no longer alone. She might not have been able to see the ghost around
them, but she could definitely feel her. Maria Timberlin, the first beloved
wife. She could feel the icy rage that engrossed the departed spirit. Its dark
tendrils reached out to squeeze the air from their lungs as fear eroded the
peace they had felt just moments before.

“Desiree,
please take these two boxes down to the nursery.”

“And
you, my lady?” The maid’s blond head searched from left to right for the source
of the draft.

“Oh,
I find I have much more to do up here at the moment. I’ll be down later, my
dear.” Malinda smiled softly and held her shoulders upright. She was not afraid
of Maria, the memory or the ghost.

“But,
Lady Timberlin, you might want to come down now.” It was clear that Desiree
knew very well what was happening in the attic, for the unspoken fear loomed in
her troubled eyes.

“Let
me be clear, Desiree. I am not leaving this room, not until
I
am ready
to leave. Nothing, or should I say
no one
, will make me leave. Please do
as I say and trust that I will be just fine. I don’t spook easily.”

Malinda
continued to sort through the boxes after Desiree left the attic. There was a
slight movement of air around her, and then loud footsteps could be heard falling
angrily on the wooden floorboards. It was hard to ignore the beating of her
heart, but knowing that she had managed to survive her first encounter with the
specter strengthened her. She closed her eyes and raised the shield around her,
knowing that if she allowed her mind to feed the fear racing inside, then her
shield would be useless. Her eyes opened and darted around the room. A scarf
that hung from a discarded floor length mirror started to sway slowly in an
invisible wind. Malinda walked over to the mirror, doing her best to show a
courageous front. Having little experience with those that had departed the
earthly realm Malinda knew that specters such as Maria could take shape before
her eyes, much as she had the night before, but even so, Maria would never be
corporeal again. Fear did not serve her well here.

Malinda
gathered as much energy to her as possible, knowing that if she did not prepare
herself properly the ghost might attack her again. She walked to the mirror,
feeling the cold challenge in the air. Malinda took a deep breath and looked in
the mirror. At first sight the image before her was quite predictable, as
Malinda’s own face stared back at her. Her long black hair framed her face, and
her work from this afternoon rang true in the depth of her frazzled locks. She
would have to repair the damage before she went down to dinner this evening.
Malinda ran her fingers through the curls to bring some sense of order to them.
She looked down from the mirror for a moment while she twisted the strands
around her fingers. When she looked up, her breath caught in her throat and a
silent scream trapped itself within her lungs.