Ours Is Just a Little Sorrow (15 page)

Min's eyebrows made extravagant arches over her eyes. "You forged a letter of recommendation?"

I didn't answer. I didn't have to. If my treachery were discovered, losing my job would be the least of my problems.

I ran my finger over the shiny wood of the bar. "I can't come back here. After today. I trust you'll do the best you can for Lily." It was Gideon's world.
I had been an interloper. It was time to return to the life I was meant to live.

Minerva pushed a cup of tea towards me. "So you finally threw him over then."

"Not exactly." I looked up into her disbelieving eyes. "Don't look so surprised. Surely I'm not the first, nor the last, in line for his affections."

"He never brought anyone here before."

I shrugged. "He shouldn't have brought me. I'm not suited to the environment. I'm too staid."

"You're an idiot, anyway."

"Min!"

She lifted one shoulder casually, as if she couldn't be bothered to shrug both. "Well, you both are. You never should have risked it, either of you. But
I'll tell you one thing, Miss Prim, no woman ever shared his bed more than once. Not before you, and if his moping the last few nights is any indication,
it won't happen after you either."

Of course she knew all along we were lovers, but it didn't stop the blush from blooming on my cheeks to be reminded of sharing his bed. "It's none of my
business how he spends his time."

"Do you love him?"

"No," I answered quickly. If she were picking me apart, which I'm sure she was, she would probably say
too
quickly. But she let it go.

"You're still welcome here. It's my ribaldery, not Gideon's."

I put my hand over hers for the briefest of moments. I hoped it was enough to convey how much her words meant to me. "It's too dangerous for me. I need to
blend back into the walls of Thornfield and hope I didn't draw too much attention to myself. To you."

She nodded. "I'll take care of Lily. Don't worry about her."

That was as emotional as our goodbye would get, for neither Minerva nor the governess could risk feeling any more than that.

Chapter 12

A
LOUD thump jolted me awake. I blinked at the darkness while my heart punched a crazy, irregular beat against my ribcage that couldn't be good for me. I
listened intently and the noise repeated. It was above my head, in the attic. It had to be. Had an animal somehow found its way in to avoid the harsh
winter?

Even as I pretended not to know better, my ears stayed on alert. And then I heard the scream. It was muffled quickly. Cut short. I choked on my breath as
ice replaced the blood in my veins. There was no denying or explaining it away any longer. Something nefarious was happening, and I could no longer ignore
that it was happening right above my head.

Not bothering to turn the dial on my bedside lamp, I swung my legs over the bed and grabbed my wrap from the foot of the bed. I wanted to light every lamp
in the room, but knew that it wouldn't change what was happening in the dark of night. Something foul lived in the walls of Thornfield Abbey. It had mocked
me with its secrets long enough.

My slippers were warm, but provided no comfort. I tightened the sash of my robe and inhaled as deep a breath as my lungs would allow as I opened the secret
panel. I wished that Gideon were home, before I remembered he'd not aid me in any case. Instead of going left, I took the unfamiliar right. The wall
torches became scarcer the further I traveled, but I remembered that they came off the wall and removed one to be my guide.

The dark, narrow corridor curved and curled into a confused path as I went up and up. The sensation of fear was powerful, but my will was stronger. For
better or worse, I was committed to ending the mystery that held the Winstons in its clutches with talons like a hawk holding a mouse.

The hall was damp and fusty, spreading a vague sense of ill into my very bones. I don't think a cloak of fur could have warmed me by that point. Reaching
the dead end, my facade of bravery cracked. What was wrong with me? Why in world had I gone on this errand alone? I could have trapped myself in the walls
never to be seen again. Maybe some other hapless person had done the same and it was their ghost I kept hearing in my slumber. It occurred to me I deserved
whatever would befall me for putting myself in danger.

I didn't see any mechanisms in the wall like the one that opened the secret door of my room. Finally I noticed an empty torch holder and placed my light in
the holster so I could better investigate. As soon as it clicked into place, the wall opened revealing a laboratory similar to John's on the lower level.

I stepped in and the wall closed behind me. The sound of it reminded me of the noise that had awoken me. As I moved further into the lab, the comparisons
to John's workplace stopped. Tables glowed with tubes and beakers of glowing viscous liquids of differing colors. The bubbling sounds gurgled ominously,
though I couldn't say why the sound bothered me. A jar of congealed…something…made me queasy and my dinner threatened to make a reappearance.

I explored the lab some more and found each jar held something more disgusting than the last. An entire shelf was full of glass containers of what looked
like organs, and the shelf below it contained the same lumps of flesh, only they were mutated into shapes unnatural and gruesome. My skin pulled tightly
into gooseflesh. What kind of experiments were these and who was performing them?

There was still no sign of whoever had made the screaming noise or the one who had muffled it. I knew better than to let that appease my fear. Just because
they hadn't shown themselves did not remove the danger. There was an actual door at the far end of the laboratory and every instinct told me not to
approach it.

The hair on the back of my neck quilled in warning. It was on the other side of the door I would find my answers. I swallowed. But how badly did I want
them?

I thought of Shelby. Had she met her end in this very room? Or maybe the cabin in the woods? Trepidation would not save the next poor woman from a violent
death, and so I imagined an iron stake as my spine and pushed the door open slowly. My heart seized and pushed my blood through my veins incorrectly at the
sight of a woman strapped to a vertical table. She didn't look well. In fact, it appeared she may have met her end some time ago. Part of her exposed skin
was the color of mold but it also looked like parts of her were made of copper plates and wires.

There was nothing to fear from the dead, I reminded myself. There was nobody else in the room. I approached the table, sickened and heartbroken at the
departed soul. How long had she been in this room? Why had her body not been put to rest? What nefarious purpose could she be serving?

Here was Lily's zombie.

I swallowed the bile inching up my throat and stepped closer. She was attached to a hulking machine with tubes and wires. In the center of it, an overlarge
bellow expanded and contracted with hisses and puffs. I looked at her face, trying to discern…I don't know what I hoped for…an approximate age
or something.

Evidence of an easy life or death would not be found in her appearance as she was something in between the two. Half of her face was mottled skin of
purple, green, and blue. The other half was a polished copper skull. She looked familiar, though, despite her fiendish manifestation.

Oh, dear God.

I took a step back.

No. No. No.

The woman on the table was Elizabeth Winston. Gideon, John, and Phillip's mother. Their very dead mother.

As soon as I made the connection, Mrs. Winston opened her eyes.

I screamed. It was like looking into the eyes of hell. Those eyes-I would never sleep again without seeing those deranged, tortured eyes.

Mrs. Winston moaned, and I screamed again.

Dear Lord, how had this happened?

"Violet, are you in here?" John's voice called from the other chamber.

Oh, poor John. I couldn't let him see his mother. Not like this. He called again and it spurred me to run out of the room. I didn't stop until I reached
him, and then I propelled myself into his arms. "Oh, John"

"Violet, are you all right?" He held me close, probably trying to discern how to help me. John was always so caring. He didn't deserve this.

The Colonel was a monster. And he'd turned his wife into one as well. I was enraged and frightened at the same time. How could a person so sick manage to
keep his true nature hidden for so long?

"Darling, you're shaking," John said into my hair. "What is it that has you so agitated?"

I pulled back to look into his face. The calm I found in his eyes made me feel even worse. That he should have to deal with yet another family tragedy was
so unfair. "We must leave this room immediately, John."

"What is wrong?"

I shook my head. "We have to call the authorities." I pulled him toward the entrance, but he refused to budge.

"What did you see, Violet? Is there something on the other side of that door?" He started that direction.

"No," I cried. "You must not enter that vile room. Please, John. You must trust me. There is nothing on the other side of that door but heartbreak." I
pulled harder, but he was stalwart in his direction. "It's awful. Your father…he has done something atrocious but I cannot allow you to see it.
Please, I beg you. Please just come out of here with me. We'll let the authorities deal with this."

"It must be bad, Vi. You're in your nightclothes. What propelled you out of your bed at this hour?"

He wasn't taking me seriously. Of course, I must have appeared a hysterical wreck. There was no help for that as it was an understatement of my condition.
"John, we must go. Please."

"How did you even find this place?"

I began to cry then. Fat tears that served no purpose and would not get us out of there. "I heard noises. I'm afraid he will come back. Please, we have to
leave
now
."

"Who will come back, Violet?"

"The Colonel!" I turned towards the exit, but John pulled me back into his chest.

"I daresay the Colonel will not find you here," he said. One of his arms banded around me tightly.

I was trapped with my back against him. If he thought to calm me down, caging me was doing the opposite. "Please loosen your grip, John. I can hardly
breathe."

He kissed my cheek. "That could pose a problem, my love." He held a handkerchief to my nose. "For I need you to take several very deep breaths right now."

I couldn't move away from the sweet smelling kerchief for I was pinned in place. I didn't understand what was happening as I began to get woozy. I was so
very tired, and suddenly, falling asleep in John's arms was very appealing indeed. I felt myself let go, then, even as part of me raged to stay awake. I
drifted into beautiful oblivion.

I danced in the clouds. A nagging voice told me to stop, to return to Thornfield. I had work to do-Phillip had a lesson I was to attend to. And yet, I
danced. Gideon was there, dashing as ever, and he took me into his arms and we flew as if the world had no cares.

"You should wake up, sprite," he said to me.

"I like you better when you don't speak, Gideon," I retorted, and he laughed.

We dipped and twirled until my stomach was unsettled and my head ached. I began coughing and my dreamscape changed. Gideon was gone and I was left with the
sour tummy and blistering head. I couldn't move, my frozen limbs covered in snow.

I blinked. No. Not frozen. Tied down. I was tethered to a table in the lab. I blinked some more. Oh dear God, John. John had done this.

As if I summoned him, his face came into view. "Ho, there she is," he said jovially. "I was beginning to wonder if I'd misjudged my tincture. You must be
in an awful way right now, and for that I'm sorry. Usually, I don't wake my subjects up at this point, but you…you are special."

"John, what is going on? Why are you doing this?"

He had a syringe in his hands that he tapped several times. I squeezed my eyes closed, but he injected the contents into his own arm. He looked euphoric
for a moment, and then his normal countenance returned. "I'm sorry. Did you ask me something?"