His Black Wings (21 page)

Even though he did not speak to me, I smiled inwardly knowing that he was following my hound and I closely. At first it seemed he took great pains not to be heard as he followed five or six feet behind us, moving behind trees and ducking behind bushes. But as the days passed and December drew to a close, the leaves had all but fallen to the ground. Dead and brown, they made cracking and crunching noises as the three of us walked. Etrigan was now walking behind us with only three feet separating us. If I had suddenly stopped at any time, he would have run in to me. I was always careful not to turn around to let him know I was aware of his presence. Naza seemed to be aware of our curious game and never acknowledged his presence on the walks our curious little trio would take. She always took point, with me following her and Etrigan behind me.

As peaceful and familiar as it was, this strange and silent little arrangement could not go on forever. Even though I was patient and wanted to give Etrigan his space and gently draw him out, I too was lonely. Mrs. Whitby would talk to me when she got time, often to try to offer me “motherly” advice about this or that but she was usually busy with the housework. When I would attempt to help her she would shoo me away with her apron.

“What would the master think if he saw young Miss scrubbing floors? Dear me, he might fire me! Or he might think you do a better job of it and fire me anyway!”
She would say with a startled look upon her face. So I tried not to be idle and took up painting, which I did poorly, and crocheting which I also did poorly. I read, which I enjoyed, but I always felt awkward asking Mr. Lowood permission to borrow one book after another. The library seemed to be his personal sanctuary rather than his bedroom, so to intrude into the library would be akin to intruding into his personal bedroom chambers.

Invitation to luncheons and art gallery openings arrived constantly from Horace and Dekker but were never replied to. I had sent a separate reply to each young man as to my answer for the Celestial Ball which I found out was a masquerade ball. I let them know I looked forward to seeing them again and would get to work finding a costume. But as for other social events, I had to decline for now.

I felt as though it would be asking too much to constantly go out socially while Mr. Lowood wanted to remain at home and Etrigan was still hiding from me. Dekker and Horace both visited me several times while Mr. Lowood was out. Their visits always seemed to coincide with Mr. Lowood leaving to go in to town. Only later did I find out that Timothy, the young groomsman and Mrs. Whitby’s grandson, had been paid handsomely by both Dekker and Horace to send word to them when Mr. Lowood was due to go out. Mrs. Whitby had just served cake to my guests when I commented upon the remarkable coincidence that brought them to Westwind each time Mr. Lowood was out. Their dual guilty looks made me instantly suspicious. I put my tea cup down.

“Why do you look so, Horace?” I asked the weaker link of the two.

“How is that Claren?” Horace asked fidgeting nervously and taking a sip of his tea. Casting a quick glance at Dekker, I saw his gaze immediately had been diverted to a spot on the ceiling that he now found terribly interesting.

“Horace? What is it that you are not telling me?” He put his tea cup down as his hand trembled slightly, making it clatter against the saucer.

“I am afraid I am guilty of duplicity Claren. I was so desperate to see you, but always get the…the feeling that my visits are not wanted here at Westwind by your Uncle.” He looked down and to the side, now weighted with guilt and awaiting my judgment.

“Yes, go on.” I prompted him having no idea what he was about to say.

“I paid the young groomsman money to let me know when your Uncle would be out of the house for several hours. Please do not blame him, I intimidated him, then made him take the money. I only wanted to see you, without your Uncle.” I could not imagine Horace Bitwater intimidating anyone and forced myself to stifle a giggle. Dekker took this opportunity to display his flair for theater. He placed his plate of cake down and jumped up pointing an accusing finger at Horace.

“You under handed cad! Using your money to buy your way in here! Why, I never heard of such a diabolic thing. If I was Claren, I would turn you out of my house at once.” Horace and I stared in disbelief at Dekker’s outburst, but Horace, knowing Dekker’s nature much better than I, simply smirked at him.

“And how much did you pay, Dekker, my old friend?” Dekker smiled and sat back down on the couch.

“Apparently not enough since whenever I arrive, you are here first!” The three of us broke into stifled giggles at the revelation. On the outside it may seem as though Horace and Dekker disliked each other, but having known one another since school, as I later found out, gave them a sort of bond. While in competition with one another, they truly bore no ill will against each other. This made their bickering a bit more tolerable, just a bit. We three laughed good naturedly until we heard a loud pounding directly on the ceiling above us that seemed to be coming from my room. I knew what, or rather whom it was. Since Timothy and Thomas were sure to be outside with the horses and Mrs. Whitby would be in the kitchen, and Mr. Lowood was out, that only left Etrigan. I wondered if he had heard us laughing and was showing his disapproval to me.

“What was that Claren? Did a servant drop a piano?” Dekker asked incredulous.

“It was rather loud wasn’t it? Do you think the ceiling is sound?” Horace asked somewhat nervous as the three of us looked upwards.

“I’m sure it’s nothing gentlemen. However I do have to say we should probably cut our tea time short today.” Horace stood up and walked over in an urgent manner to where I was sitting.

“Please don’t be vexed with us Claren for paying the groomsman. He is a nice little chap and really didn’t want to do any harm. I really did have to twist his arm in a fashion, to get him to agree, and really my main reason was to see you since you never answer any of the invitations I send you, and when I ran in to Dekker, he also said that you never respond, so I figured I had to do something so I came up with this plan…” Horace was speaking so fast his words came out in a jumble of saliva and gasps of breath. Dekker jumped up and placed a rough hand on Horace’s shoulder pulling him back and away from me.

“Calm yourself man! You’ll drown the poor girl before you’re done with your tome of words!” He handed Horace a handkerchief then looked at me apologetically.

“I think this time he might need it more than you do Claren dear.” I smiled feeling a little sorry for Horace. I would soon get used to Horace’s over excitable manner and made it a habit to carry around handkerchiefs for this sole purpose. Dekker placed an arm around Horace.

“Well old man, they are playing our song,” Dekker said as he looked up referring to the ceiling, “unless you want us to check on it for you Claren? I dare say I can’t imagine what would cause such a ruckus.”

“Oh, no I am sure its fine. The wind must have knocked something down from my mantle. Thank you though.” I stood up and walked them both to the door where they each in turn shook my hand.

“We shall wait patiently and silently for the Celestial Ball.” Dekker called out as they walked away.

“Yes Claren, I look forward to the Ball as well.”

They both did well and did not send me any more invitations to social outings or show up unexpectedly. I was surprised to find that to a degree, I missed their company, but I knew that it was just a filler for whom I really wanted to speak and get to know.

As it so happened the very next day, Naza and I went out on our daily walk, with Etrigan following closely behind. I found myself running conversation starters through my head, mostly ones that referred to the large noise that I was sure he had made in my room the last time Dekker and Horace had visited. However, I changed my mind since I did not know if it was their presence that vexed him or perhaps he had just been snooping about in my room while I was occupied. After my guests had left, I had raced up the stairs and down the hall to my room to catch the winged culprit in my room. I found the door ajar, but the room untouched and empty of any presence, so I certainly could not accuse him now.

We three walked noisily through the dead leaves when Etrigan must have stepped on a rather large branch that made a loud snapping noise. Both Naza and I stopped and whirled around instinctively as Etrigan looked down at what he stepped on, raising his foot gingerly. He held his foot in midair while looking down at the now broken branch, while a slow blush rose from his neck to color his cheeks as he was aware I was looking at him. He looked up at me clearly embarrassed and in the swiftest of movements, hid behind the thinnest tree. He looked so comical trying to hide behind this slender tree, that I could not control my laughter. Naza ran up to him to put her nose in his hand to tell him the ruse was over, we knew he was there the whole time. He stared at me a few seconds then slowly began to smile, then to chuckle. His smile pierced my heart.

From that day forward he would meet us for our walks, no longer following us, but side by side. I grew to look forward to every day that I could see and talk to him. Our conversations at first were hesitant but gently probing into one another’s background. It seemed as though he felt the same way I did, wanting to know about me without pushing. Sometimes his gruff manner would come back to the fore front but I found that if after he said something that displeased me, if I stayed quiet, he would usually correct what he said himself. While perhaps lacking the social refining other gentlemen did, he was very intelligent and well read. He had read all of his father’s books in the library and been schooled early on by his father.

“Has she always been this gentle and friendly?” He asked one misty morning when we stopped to watch leaves floating by on the surface of a small stream. He was referring to Naza as she dashed about, tracking a small rodent she had seen. She was curious about the furry rodent but not hunting it. It was leading her on quite a chase from the trees nearby to the river’s edge and back. I watched her unafraid that even if found, she would not hurt the creature.

“People think that because of her size she may be vicious, but she has always been gentle. Except once…” I trailed off thinking of how savagely she had ripped in to Kurten.

“What happened? Did she attack another animal?” He asked watching her. I looked up at Etrigan who was so much taller than I. His voice was deep and warm now as he spoke, so much of a difference from the harsh tone he used to take with me when I first moved to Westwind.

“Yes, she attacked another animal.” I said thinking that Kurten was an animal, less than an animal actually.

“Did she kill it?” He prompted.

“No. She wounded it.” I said plainly.

“Why did she attack it?” I understood that he asked me these questions not because he was being nosey, but because he had little external stimulation. His life experiences were confined to his life here at Westwind, his father and perhaps Thomas whom he would speak to. I felt myself wishing that he perhaps would have asked me about some other topic that I felt free with. Even though I did not wish to discuss it, I felt myself answering his questions as if though compelled.

“Because
it
was attacking me.” He looked down at me suddenly, his dark eyes full of surprise.

“Attacking you? Were you in the woods? Were you by yourself?” So hungry for knowledge and experience that he lacked, Etrigan often asked a series of questions.

“I was by myself, yes, alone with this animal and Naza saved me.”         Once again the stab of strangeness came up within my mind as I spoke to Etrigan about the incident that drove me from my childhood home in this manner.

“It’s not safe to be in the woods alone Claren. That is why I started to follow you. You don’t know the lands of Westwind as I do. Savage animals that were mutated by the great war bore offspring with an equally bad temperament. They still roam this land.” I nodded to show that I agreed with him even though I did not think that my safety was in jeopardy while I was at Westwind. How unknowing I was.

“What happened to the animal after Naza wounded it, did it run away?” He continued with his line of questioning.

“No, it lay still and I escaped taking Naza with me.”

“What kind of animal was it Claren?” He asked with a sudden suspicious note in his voice. His dark eyes searched my face telling me that if I attempted to be misleading he would know.

“A man.” I said simply as I continued to watch Naza run along the edge of the water. I felt a hard lump form in my throat and my vision became blurry but I did not want to cry. Etrigan moved away from me in surprise. I did not look at him but I could see in my peripheral vision his wings had extended themselves to their full capacity. I noticed whenever he was upset or excited, his wings seemed to do this on their own as they did now.