Haunting Violet
Page 32
And then, of course, Rowena had to go and ruin it.
If I could have found a finishing school for ghosts I would have forced her to attend. She might have been an earl’s daughter while she lived, but as a dead girl, she had ghastly manners. And I was going to tell her so, just as soon as I figured out how not to choke on my own terrified heart.
The water trembled only faintly at first, and then, under the surface, the pebbles at the bottom of the pond became eyes, brown eyes watching me. Her pale face bobbed to the surface followed by her wrists, ringed with bruises.
She reached up out of the water and tugged on my ankle. Hard. Since Elizabeth was looking down without any reaction, I knew she didn’t see anything but weeds. I, however, had felt the insistent touch of cold fingers, even through my boot. I hadn’t thought ghosts could be corporeal.
It was not a comforting realization.
I jerked back but she yanked hard enough that I stumbled, slipping off the rock. I waved my arms uselessly, like a hysterical windmill, screaming. My ankle felt as if it was wrapped in ice. Elizabeth shouted and grabbed for me. Instead of stopping my fall, she joined me, adding momentum. We tumbled headfirst into the cold water with a most unladylike splash. I flailed about, trying to remember which way was up.
The sun faded, as if swallowed by storm clouds. There was no light to pierce the water and guide me to the surface. I felt sluggish, as if I was moving through honey. It was the same odd feeling I’d had at the picnic, only worse, much worse.
The pond wasn’t this deep.
I should have hit bottom by now, or bobbed back up, but I was caught floating in between. I tried to kick but I could barely move. Water filled my mouth and my nose and I wanted to cough but even that seemed like too much effort. There was a shadow on the edge of the pond, standing in the grass, the moon a sudden bright glow behind them. I couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman, but I felt as if I knew them. Or as if Rowena did. I was confused.
And drowning.
I struggled harder, my hair floating like seaweed as it escaped its pins. My dress was heavy, weighing me down. My corset felt like iron hands clasped too tightly around my waist. My wrists were bruised and my throat burned. I had an odd taste in my mouth, medicinal and cloying. Letters rained down to bob on the pond’s surface, catching fire when they landed.
And then Elizabeth grabbed my shoulder and yanked me up, sputtering with laughter. Her hair was plastered on her neck and face.
“You look like a drowned rat!” She splashed at me, grinning.
I coughed up water, desperately hauling air into my starved lungs. I hadn’t been drowning. I’d only been under for a few seconds. Rowena had drowned.
We already knew that. She needn’t have been so violent in her reminders. My teeth chattered as I pushed the panic down.
Rowena drowned, I reminded myself. Not me.
I wished I could laugh at our clumsy tumble into a summer pond, as Elizabeth was doing. Instead, I was frantically wondering if we were floating above a dead body, if something else was going to grab me. I couldn’t get out fast enough. I slipped and went under again, landing hard on my backside. I dug for a handhold in the thick mud, palms scraping pebbles and stones. Water filled my mouth. I resurfaced, sputtering, panicking despite myself.
“Clumsy!” Elizabeth teased me, leaning back to use her feet to churn up the pond water.
“What,” a voice asked with icy disdain, “are you two doing?”
Elizabeth just laughed louder. Tabitha looked down her nose at us. A nervous giggle burst in my throat. I had to fight the urge to pull her into the pond with us. Somehow, I didn’t think it would improve her disposition. She looked elegant in her pale dress. We looked like startled cats and smelled like green water.
“Tabitha, you managed to escape both your uncle and Caroline!” Elizabeth crowed as we climbed out, using the long grass for a handhold. It was a rather ungraceful affair all around. Something tumbled from the mud caked on my hands. It glittered dully until I dipped it to rinse off the worst of the grime. My boots squelched when I moved.
“I found something,” I muttered, swallowing. It was a gold ring set with pearls in the shape of a daisy.
Tabitha paled. “Give me that.” She grabbed at it so viciously her nails left thin red welts. Her eyes were suspiciously bright.
Elizabeth tilted her head. “Is it yours, Tabitha?”
But I knew with sudden, certain clarity that it wasn’t hers at all. That ring had belonged to her sister. The white lilies shivered at her feet, etched in impossible light.
“It was Rowena’s,” she whispered, mostly to herself. When she looked up, her gaze was hot, like a burning ember tossed right at me. “Get off my uncle’s property,” she said between her teeth, “before I set his hunting dogs on you.”
Elizabeth’s eyebrows raised practically up to her hairline as Tabitha stormed away. “Well,” she huffed. “Really.” She sat back in the grass, letting the sun warm her face. “What was that all about?” she asked curiously. She looked at me pointedly.
“What?” I asked, looking away.
She rolled her eyes. “Violet, I’m not a featherbrain. I know there’s something else going on here that you’re not telling me. I saw the spirit-board message too, remember, and it isn’t very sporting of you to leave me out.”
I bit my lip for a moment before deciding. And then I told her everything: seeing Rowena before I’d even met Tabitha, the voices in the breakfast room, the spirits at the ball, everything. Being a good friend, and more important, a girl from a Spiritualist family, Elizabeth believed me straightaway, and probably would have even before we’d used the spirit-board. I doubted my every word, but she just nodded.
If I could have found a finishing school for ghosts I would have forced her to attend. She might have been an earl’s daughter while she lived, but as a dead girl, she had ghastly manners. And I was going to tell her so, just as soon as I figured out how not to choke on my own terrified heart.
The water trembled only faintly at first, and then, under the surface, the pebbles at the bottom of the pond became eyes, brown eyes watching me. Her pale face bobbed to the surface followed by her wrists, ringed with bruises.
She reached up out of the water and tugged on my ankle. Hard. Since Elizabeth was looking down without any reaction, I knew she didn’t see anything but weeds. I, however, had felt the insistent touch of cold fingers, even through my boot. I hadn’t thought ghosts could be corporeal.
It was not a comforting realization.
I jerked back but she yanked hard enough that I stumbled, slipping off the rock. I waved my arms uselessly, like a hysterical windmill, screaming. My ankle felt as if it was wrapped in ice. Elizabeth shouted and grabbed for me. Instead of stopping my fall, she joined me, adding momentum. We tumbled headfirst into the cold water with a most unladylike splash. I flailed about, trying to remember which way was up.
The sun faded, as if swallowed by storm clouds. There was no light to pierce the water and guide me to the surface. I felt sluggish, as if I was moving through honey. It was the same odd feeling I’d had at the picnic, only worse, much worse.
The pond wasn’t this deep.
I should have hit bottom by now, or bobbed back up, but I was caught floating in between. I tried to kick but I could barely move. Water filled my mouth and my nose and I wanted to cough but even that seemed like too much effort. There was a shadow on the edge of the pond, standing in the grass, the moon a sudden bright glow behind them. I couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman, but I felt as if I knew them. Or as if Rowena did. I was confused.
And drowning.
I struggled harder, my hair floating like seaweed as it escaped its pins. My dress was heavy, weighing me down. My corset felt like iron hands clasped too tightly around my waist. My wrists were bruised and my throat burned. I had an odd taste in my mouth, medicinal and cloying. Letters rained down to bob on the pond’s surface, catching fire when they landed.
And then Elizabeth grabbed my shoulder and yanked me up, sputtering with laughter. Her hair was plastered on her neck and face.
“You look like a drowned rat!” She splashed at me, grinning.
I coughed up water, desperately hauling air into my starved lungs. I hadn’t been drowning. I’d only been under for a few seconds. Rowena had drowned.
We already knew that. She needn’t have been so violent in her reminders. My teeth chattered as I pushed the panic down.
Rowena drowned, I reminded myself. Not me.
I wished I could laugh at our clumsy tumble into a summer pond, as Elizabeth was doing. Instead, I was frantically wondering if we were floating above a dead body, if something else was going to grab me. I couldn’t get out fast enough. I slipped and went under again, landing hard on my backside. I dug for a handhold in the thick mud, palms scraping pebbles and stones. Water filled my mouth. I resurfaced, sputtering, panicking despite myself.
“Clumsy!” Elizabeth teased me, leaning back to use her feet to churn up the pond water.
“What,” a voice asked with icy disdain, “are you two doing?”
Elizabeth just laughed louder. Tabitha looked down her nose at us. A nervous giggle burst in my throat. I had to fight the urge to pull her into the pond with us. Somehow, I didn’t think it would improve her disposition. She looked elegant in her pale dress. We looked like startled cats and smelled like green water.
“Tabitha, you managed to escape both your uncle and Caroline!” Elizabeth crowed as we climbed out, using the long grass for a handhold. It was a rather ungraceful affair all around. Something tumbled from the mud caked on my hands. It glittered dully until I dipped it to rinse off the worst of the grime. My boots squelched when I moved.
“I found something,” I muttered, swallowing. It was a gold ring set with pearls in the shape of a daisy.
Tabitha paled. “Give me that.” She grabbed at it so viciously her nails left thin red welts. Her eyes were suspiciously bright.
Elizabeth tilted her head. “Is it yours, Tabitha?”
But I knew with sudden, certain clarity that it wasn’t hers at all. That ring had belonged to her sister. The white lilies shivered at her feet, etched in impossible light.
“It was Rowena’s,” she whispered, mostly to herself. When she looked up, her gaze was hot, like a burning ember tossed right at me. “Get off my uncle’s property,” she said between her teeth, “before I set his hunting dogs on you.”
Elizabeth’s eyebrows raised practically up to her hairline as Tabitha stormed away. “Well,” she huffed. “Really.” She sat back in the grass, letting the sun warm her face. “What was that all about?” she asked curiously. She looked at me pointedly.
“What?” I asked, looking away.
She rolled her eyes. “Violet, I’m not a featherbrain. I know there’s something else going on here that you’re not telling me. I saw the spirit-board message too, remember, and it isn’t very sporting of you to leave me out.”
I bit my lip for a moment before deciding. And then I told her everything: seeing Rowena before I’d even met Tabitha, the voices in the breakfast room, the spirits at the ball, everything. Being a good friend, and more important, a girl from a Spiritualist family, Elizabeth believed me straightaway, and probably would have even before we’d used the spirit-board. I doubted my every word, but she just nodded.
