The Ghosts of Ravencrest (The Ravencrest Saga Book 1) (15 page)

Carmilla appeared hurt. “Well,” she said. “Is that how you treat a lady’s request?”

Thomas’ gaze hardened and she rose, replacing her gloves in quick, jerking motions. “You are no lady,” he said between set teeth. “Now get yourself together and let us go retrieve the children.” He began walking.
 

“Uncle! Uncle!” His niece and nephew raced toward them, eyes on the half-sunken boat. “We want to see!”

Thomas made a grab for Parnell as he brushed past him. But his nephew was quick.
 

Parnell’s legs slipped out from under him and he crashed to the ground. There was a thunderous crunch as the ice cracked. A dark fissure opened up, swallowing him.

“Parnell!” Thomas rushed toward the small arms that flailed and thrashed in the frigid water.
 

Prudence screamed.

“Get her away from here!” Ice cracked under Thomas’ feet.

Carmilla picked the girl up and stepped back.

Beneath him, the crevice webbed in a dozen directions, plunging Thomas into the icy water. The shock of the cold stole his breath and burned his skin. Fighting the heavy drag of his sodden overcoat, he grabbed for Parnell. Chunk after chunk of ice broke away, floating on the exposed water like small arctic islands.

Thomas lunged at his thrashing nephew, finally catching him about the waist. Then he pushed toward the edge of the river where Carmilla held a weeping Prudence.
 

The ice cracked again, loosening the small rowboat. It crashed down, righting itself in the dark water.
 

Thomas gripped solid ground, then pulled himself and Parnell out.

“My leg!” Parnell shrieked. “My leg!”

Edward and Alice were rushing toward them.
 

“Parnell!” Alice ran faster than Thomas would have thought possible and snatched her son from his arms and held him close.

Edward had his coat off in an instant, wrapping it around his wife and child.
 

“My leg!” The shrill words came over and over.

Edward took Parnell’s foot in a gentle embrace.

The boy squealed in agony.
 

“I think he’s broken his ankle,” said Edward.

“Quick,” said Thomas. “Let’s get him home.”

Prudence wept into Carmilla’s skirts, unable to look at her brother.

The nanny herself appeared nonplussed. “Lady Alice,” she said as she fluttered to her side. “I am so sorry this happened.” Then she looked at Thomas. Her eyes were fire.

Thomas stared at Carmilla, stunned by her theatrics. There were no words for the sudden fury he felt.

Broken Ankle

Parnell lay in bed in the room he and Prudence shared at Thomas’ lavish townhouse. Edward had gone to fetch the physician, Dr. Archer.
 

Thomas stayed near his nephew, holding his hand and watching the boy. Alice held his other hand. When Alice and Edward’s month-old babe, Celia, had disappeared last February, Alice had nearly died of sorrow herself and had looked pale and wan for many months. Ravencrest’s physician, Dr. Lanval, finally helped her find herself again; when the family had arrived at the townhouse yesterday, Thomas had been delighted to see Alice looking and behaving like her old self. Her eyes sparkled when she looked at her children - and at her husband. Thomas quelled a selfish wish that she would look at him that way, but it was not meant to be. Now, her eyes were dark and haunted once more. If something happened to Parnell, he doubted she could withstand the pain.
 

Parnell turned his head to look at him. “Thank you for helping me out of the water, Uncle Thomas.”

Thomas fought back tears. This never would have happened had he not allowed his nephew near the rowboat. The sound of the cracking ice seemed to move down his spine. He shuddered as his mind again replayed the moment his nephew had disappeared into the black water.

“Try to get some rest, young master.” Thomas reached over to brush the boy’s sweat-matted hair from his forehead.

Parnell closed his eyes.
 

Momentarily, Edward returned with Dr. Archer and Alice stood to greet them.

Dr. Archer was a tall, stern-faced man with angular features, dark graying hair, and an outdated mustache. After inspecting young Parnell’s ankle he informed them it was broken and needed to be set.

At the news, Alice buried her face in Edward’s chest and wept. He hushed her tears and smoothed her hair. “Why don’t you join Carmilla and Prudence, Alice? Thomas and I will remain with Parnell.”

She looked up at him. “I will do no such thing.”

Edward sighed and nodded.

“I am fine, Mama.” Parnell’s words were confident though he looked frightened.

Alice smiled at her son as a tear slipped down her cheek. “I will not leave you, Parnell. I will
not
.”

Parnell’s relief was evident; he was being brave for his mother. Thomas’ respect for his nephew rose another degree.

“Very well,” said Dr. Archer, pulling a bottle out of his coat pocket. “Let us first give him something for the pain.” He then produced an oral syringe, uncapped the bottle, and pulled some of the reddish-brown liquid into it. “This is laudanum,” he said in Edward and Alice’s direction. Then he looked at Parnell. “Be prepared. It is very bitter.” He administered a few drops and Parnell made a face. “Good boy.” The doctor placed the bottle back into his coat pocket. “Now, I will need the assistance of one of you gentleman,” he said, looking from Edward to Thomas.

Edward took a step forward, but Thomas spoke. “Let me do it.”

Edward hesitated, then looked at his wife, returned to her side and nodded at his younger brother.

“What do you need me to do?” Thomas asked the doctor.

“Secure the boy while I pull the broken ankle back into place. And then we’ll let some of his blood, of course.”
 

Thomas swallowed.

“Bloodletting?” Alice cried.

“Yes, m’Lady. In a situation like this-”

“I will not hear of it,” said Alice. “He fractured his ankle and I’m sure the setting of his bone will be quite enough treatment for today.”

“He may catch fever, m’Lady.”

Alice moved toward to doctor. “
Then
we will consider bloodletting. With no evidence of illness, I hardly think it is necessary. Our family physician, Dr. Lanval, would never perform bloodletting for such an incident as this.”

Edward placed a calming hand on Alice’s shoulder. “This is true, Dr. Archer. You will set the leg and we will return to Ravencrest where we will have our own physician oversee any further needs our son might have.”

“Very well.” The doctor shrugged.

Alice relaxed visibly and returned to her husband’s embrace.

The doctor looked at Thomas. “Are you prepared?”

Thomas nodded.

The doctor showed him how to hold his nephew still. Thomas complied, then the doctor looked at Parnell, who appeared to be relaxing under the drug’s influence. “Count to ten and take a deep breath.”

Parnell began to count and when he reached the number five, he slurred. Immediately, Archer gave the boy’s ankle a hard yank.
 

As long as he lived, Thomas never forgot the screams.

The Return to Ravencrest

December 11, 1788

The morning dawned, frozen and gray. The team of four coal-black horses blew steam from their nostrils and stamped against the cold. Thomas helped Alice into the coach then assisted Edward in lifting Parnell, fur-wrapped and sobbing despite the laudanum, into the cab, settling his head in his mother’s lap. Edward climbed in and sat on the same bench, laying his son’s legs across his own with great care in hopes this would help ease the bouncing of the carriage. Thomas lifted Prudence and she threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him. The ice crystals on her hooded cloak sparkled like tiny diamonds. “Can’t you come with us, Uncle?” she asked.

“If only I could.” He lifted her into the carriage then bent in, blocking the door, keeping Carmilla Harlow waiting in the cold. “I will see you all no later than Christmas Eve,” he said. “And sooner if I am able.”

Parnell focused on him. “Please come soon, Uncle!”

Thomas’ heart broke. He had fallen down in his duty to his young nephew by letting his baser urges take precedence. He’d tossed and turned all night over it. He thought of the nanny standing behind him, knowing that young Parnell’s injury was by her instigation, but it did not make his own actions any less neglectful. Uncle and godfather, he was, and he knew his duty. He loved this little boy whose hair was golden like his own. He liked to imagine that he really was his own son, and Prudence his daughter. His eyes found Alice’s face, but she had no time for him. She kissed her son’s forehead, feeling for fever, and hummed a tune to him in her sweet voice.
I wish that she were mine.
 

“We will see you Christmas week, Brother,” Edward said, his face tired, but his voice hearty for his son’s sake. “All of us. We will sing carols and greet Father Christmas, won’t we Parnell?”

The boy smiled weakly and closed his eyes under his mother’s loving caresses.
 

“Indeed we shall,” Thomas said. “We shall feast and sing and play games all the night through!” He stepped back. Carmilla stood there in her dark brown cloak, staring at him, waiting for him to help her into the carriage. Instead, he bowed to his family and retreated, nodding at the coachman to assist Miss Harlow.

The nanny stepped into the carriage and, as the coachman closed its black door, she stared at Thomas through the window.
If looks could kill ...
 

***

They made it to Hertfordshire before a short but intense blizzard required them to take shelter at a roadhouse until the skies cleared. Then they continued on toward St. Albans. At long last Alice recognized the moonlit hills and moors that had belonged to the Mannings for centuries. The horses trotted onto the road that led across the thousand acres of farm and forest, past moor and pond, knowing they were nearly home, recognizing each standing stone and cottage they passed, their relief obvious. Soon they would be warm in their stalls, brushed down and fed.
 

Finally, they reached the cobblestone road at the gates of Ravencrest Manor itself, barely two miles from the mansion. Despite her worries, at the sight of the tall iron gates topped by the Manning ravens, Alice caught her breath. Oliver, the driver, pulled the coach to a stop, horses stamping and snorting against the cold. Smoke curled from the stone gatehouse and two servants came out and pulled the gates wide for them. One, Long Stephen, their first footman, hitched himself up onto the rear coach box for the ride to the mansion. Puffs of fog hung like ghosts around them, one pressing to the window. Alice stifled a scream as she saw a face begin to form, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. Even so, she could smell the dank chill wetness outside.
 

She wiped perspiration from Parnell’s pinched face. The last of the laudanum had worn off an hour before and the boy had moaned his pain ever since. His cheeks were flushed and as Alice kissed his forehead, she knew beyond doubt that a fever had arrived.
 

Beside her, Edward cradled the boy’s legs, trying to keep the splinted ankle from bouncing. Her husband was a saint, barely moving during the long drive lest his son feel more pain. Across from her, Prudence slept, leaning against the padded interior of the coach rather than surrendering herself to her nanny’s arms.
Why did I not notice such things as this before?
The children had never complained about her, but neither had they claimed to like this woman. Alice and Edward knew only that they learned well from her and had thought she might later serve as governess.
Foolish. We should have considered their hearts as well.
Alice promised herself she and Edward would do better by their children. After the holidays they would find a new nanny. Meanwhile, even if they did not let Miss Harlow go immediately - it seemed a cruel thing to turn her out during the holiday season - she would ask Mother Johanna if she would help see to the children. Her mother-in-law, Alice knew, would gladly set aside her artwork a few hours a day for her grandchildren.
 

The coach hit a bump - a cobblestone disturbed by the winter storms, no doubt - and Parnell moaned. “Shh, we’re nearly there, my love. Edward, have the driver slow a bit.” For an instant, she imagined she heard the hollow cries of her lost Celia, echoing across the moors, but it was only the high lonesome call of an owl.
 

A cloud moved past the moon, revealing a doe watching them from a small tor. Alice began to smile, then something hulking and black leapt from the shadows and took the graceful deer down. She shivered, wondering if it was a wolf or perhaps a rare sighting of the horrible black mastiff that was said to roam the Manning lands. The coach horses saw it, too, and whinnied nervously. The whip cracked and the driver yelled something.
 

The black geldings slowed from a trot to a walk as they approached the manor. Alice caught her first glimpse of the mansion, aglow with lanterns, its great greystone face solemn, yet welcoming. As they came around the last curve and pulled up, Long Stephen jumped down and opened the coach door the instant Oliver halted the horses. “Debark Miss Harlow first,” Alice ordered.

“Yes, m’Lady.”
 

Carmilla Harlow, who had been silent for most of the long drive, nodded curtly and allowed Long Stephen to help her down. The nanny waited as he lifted Prudence down, then briskly took the girl’s hand and escorted her to the entryway.

Welcoming light spilled from the house as the heavy front doors were opened. An instant later, Mother Johanna and Bran Lanval, the physician, appeared at the coach door, the latter towering behind her mother-in-law. Johanna’s plump pink cheeks and sparkling blue eyes warmed Alice’s heart. “Your grandmother is here, Parnell!” She kissed his fevered forehead.
 

“And Dr. Lanval,” added Edward. “He’ll have you feeling better soon, my boy.”