Colton Manor (10 page)

“Can’t we just stay down here for a little longer? I really don’t f
eel like going back just yet.”

Damien took a closer look at her.
“You’re still worried about ghosts aren’t you? I thought you would have realised by now what a load of rubbish those stories are.” Ursula bit her lip and didn’t reply. “That’s it, isn’t it? I’m still upset with Bonnie for telling you those stories.”

“
I thought I was over it but something kind of weird happened last night that’s freaked me out a bit.” She took a deep breath. “You have to promise you’re not going to laugh at me if I tell you.”

“I promise.”
He tried to look serious but she could tell he was struggling to keep a straight face as she told him what she’d found out at the library and described the voice outside her door. It wasn’t until she told him about the strange painting with the hands and numbers 666 that his expression became thoughtful.

“And y
ou really don’t remember painting it?”

“No, I swear
to God.”

“Normally I’d say you were crazy if you told me something like this, but after what happened to me I know it’s quite possible
. Are you sure the doctor said you’re okay?”

“Yes, he said I’m fine.”

He raised his hand to her forehead again and held it there for a moment. This time, though, he didn’t drop it, but moved down to stroke her cheek. “I’m not dismissing you, Ursula, but I really do believe the doctor’s right and it’s just stress.”

“So you seriously think it’s just a coincidence that we’ve both had these strange sleep-walking experiences while living at Colton Manor?” She tried to ignore the tingles racing up and down her spine at his touch.

“Yes.”

“What is the statistical probability of that?”

“Quite low, but not impossible
, especially with a high fever involved.”

“
Are you really telling me you feel nothing sinister at all in that house?”

“Nothing
at all, and neither do you. You’re just letting your imagination run away with you but I guess that comes with the territory when you’re an artist.”

“I suppose
you scientific types never have this problem, considering you have no imagination at all.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, but
we don’t let ourselves get carried away without evidence.”

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you that t
here are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy, Damien?”

“
Don’t throw Shakespeare at me, young lady, or you may live to regret it.” Ursula smiled but then became sombre again.

“Every instinct I have is te
lling me to get away from here. I feel like something terrible will happen if I ignore these warnings.”

“
Seriously, Ursula, you can’t let silly superstitions ruin your summer holiday. When will you ever get the chance to stay somewhere like this again for almost nothing? For over a month it’s all ours. Do you really want to throw that away?”

From the way he was looking at her Ursula could tell he had more on his mind than just the house. He had touched her so tend
erly just a few moments ago that she wasn’t at all surprised when he lifted his hand again and began stroking her hair.

“I promise I’ll protect you from
whatever lurks in Colton Manor. You have my word.” Last time he said this he’d been making fun of her, but now he seemed genuine, and as she gazed deeply into his eyes, Ursula knew she could trust him.

When h
e pulled her towards him and kissed her very gently on the mouth her whole body responded. Even though they’d known each other a short time, it felt so right, and she couldn’t deny that this is what she’d wanted almost from the first moment she’d laid eyes on him. The attraction between them was magnetic and it seemed inevitable that they would have a holiday fling while living in such close proximity to each other.

It began to sprinkle softly as
they kissed, and it felt like they were in a world of their own. It was so romantic with the sound of the ocean and seabirds in the background, and the misty rain all around them. The drops in Damien’s hair sparkled like jewels, but before long the rain grew heavier and they couldn’t ignore it anymore.

“We’re going to get completely drenched if we stay here
,” said Ursula with regret.

“Come on, let’s go.”
Damien stood and pulled her to her feet, and they made their way up the steep path to the house. By the time they got inside they were soaked right through and laughing breathlessly. “We’d better get out of these clothes or we’ll catch our deaths.”

“That’s the best idea I’ve heard in a long time. Here, let me
help you.” She ripped his shirt out of his jeans and began undoing the buttons. She was suddenly feeling very wild and adventurous. Damien didn’t need any more encouragement and he wasted no time returning the favour. His eyes feasted on her body as peeled off each piece of wet clothing, slowly and seductively. When they were both naked he picked her up and carried her into one of the downstairs sitting rooms.

On the floor was a thick sheep skin rug and
as he lowered her onto it Ursula luxuriated in the feel of it against her back. Damien kissed her all over, and then he was on top of her, his muscular arms wrapped around her as he eased himself inside her. The rhythm of his body caused her to cry out in ecstasy and the more he gave her the more she wanted. It was very late when they finally climbed the stairs together and fell into Ursula’s bed, exhausted and satisfied. She felt very safe in his arms and she didn’t even think about strange voices in the night or ghosts stalking the corridors of Colton Manor as she drifted away.

Chapter Seven

             
Strong hands were around her throat, squeezing hard. She could feel each finger, digging into her soft flesh, crushing her windpipe and making it impossible to breathe. She tried to wake herself up from the nightmare, but it was no use. Her lungs burned as she fought for air, her hands flailing about helplessly in the dark. Then she found her attackers face and used her fingernails to draw blood. The pressure eased a little and she took a deep, shuddering breath. As the oxygen rushed to her brain the fog lifted from her eyes and she could see his face clearly in front of her. It was Damien. Damien was the one trying to kill her.

             
“Oh my God, what are you doing?” she gasped as the horrifying reality dawned on her that this was not a dream.

             
“Shut up, wench,” he said. “I told you that you couldn’t hide from me forever. Now tell me where my money is.” He let go of her throat and she sat up and scrambled away from him on the bed, but she didn’t get far before he raised his fist and struck her hard enough to knock her onto the wooden floor.

             
“Damien, please wake up, you’re dreaming again,” she pleaded with him, as he loomed over her. “It’s Ursula, and I know nothing about any money.”

             
“Liar,” he yelled, seizing her roughly by the hair. “You know where it is and you’re going to tell me if I have to beat it out of you.” He dragged her across the floor to the hall and down the stairs. “Where is my money, Anna?” Through her terror Ursula recognised the name of the woman who had plunged to her death from the cliff one hundred and fifty years earlier. Damien was caught up in some kind of psychosis involving Edward Stanton and his long-dead wife. Seeing the sheer madness in his eyes Ursula knew her best bet was to go along with him and try to somehow bluff her way out of the deadly situation.

             
“I’m sorry, Edward, I’m so sorry,” she said. Her words seemed to appease him, and he relaxed his grip on her hair slightly. “I will tell you where the money is if you just let me go.”

He stared at her intently. “If this is I trick, you’ll pay, by God, you’ll pay, woman.”

              “It’s not a trick, I promise you.”

             
“Then where is it?” His grip tightened again. Ursula tried to think, but her mind was blank with terror. The only place that came to mind was the cellar, and it was on the tip of her tongue to say this when she realised that it was the last place on earth she wanted to be confined with him. There would be no escape once he had her down there.

             
“Speak,” he roared in her face.

             
“It’s in the kitchen,” she said in desperation, before remembering it was the room where one of Edward Stanton’s wives had died violently. Ursula stole a glance at Damien as he pushed her in front of him through the door and down the stairs. He was staring straight ahead, his face set like a mask, and he was barely recognisable as the man she had just made love with hours earlier. She tried frantically to think of a plan to escape or at least arm herself with a weapon, but the best she could come up with was to tell him the money was in the bottom of a cupboard. When he bent down to look she hoped she could grab one of the knives from the bench top. The thought of having to use it made her shudder, but she was fighting for her life and had to do whatever it took to protect herself.

             
“Get it,” he said when they entered the kitchen.

             
“
It’s in there.” She pointed towards the cupboard next to the range.

             
“Are you deaf as well as daft, I said get it, woman.” He pushed her down onto the floor roughly, and as she opened the door and pretended to look through the cupboard her hand closed around the handle of a large flat frying pan. It was her only chance. He was leaning over her so closely that she didn’t have much room to swing it, but she had to give it a shot.

             
“I have the money,” she said, hoping he would step back and give her some space, but he remained exactly where he was. Ursula stood up suddenly and swung it at his head as forcefully as she could, but she was not quick enough for him. He caught hold of her wrist and twisted it sharply, causing her to cry out and drop the frying pan with a loud clatter. Her last memory was of his fist striking her on the side of the head with such force that she saw stars. Just as she was falling a woman appeared from nowhere and she reached out as if to catch her, then there was only blackness.

****

Her head was pounding terribly, each beat sending a lightning bolt of pain through her temples. She became conscious of the hard, cold floor beneath her, and as she opened her eyes slowly the terrible events of the night came flooding back. She was still in the kitchen, lying where she had fallen, but now the room was in darkness and Damien was nowhere to be seen. She raised herself cautiously onto her elbow and felt the throbbing spot on her head with her fingers. There was a large lump there, and she felt dizzy and weak, but she had no time to waste. A sound, like someone speaking in a low, monotonous tone, penetrated through the fog in her brain, and it took her a moment to work out that it was coming from the cellar.

             
As she crawled past the door, she could just see his outline at the bottom of the stairs in the dim, flickering light. He had a candle down there and he was talking to himself although she couldn’t make out any of the words he was saying. She was ready to push the heavy door closed and lock him in, and she swore under her breath when she saw that the key was no longer in the lock.

Silently she made her way to the kitchen door and pulled
it open. It was with some difficulty that she found her way through the entrance hall in the darkness, and she was very glad she had knocked over the vase a couple of nights earlier when she collided with the hall stand. Her breath was coming out in ragged sobs as she tried the door. It was locked from inside, and she was about to give into despair when she remembered there was a spare key in the top drawer of the stand. She pulled the drawer open and almost fainted with relief when her fingers closed around it. She paused for just a moment to get her bearings but then she heard Damien bellow with rage from the kitchen. She had to move fast.

“
Don’t you dare try to run away from me again, Anna.” With shaking hands she put the key in the lock, knowing she only had seconds till he found her. She had never used this key before and for one terrifying moment it seemed like it was not going to turn, but then it gave way suddenly and she was outside in the cold night air. She closed the door softly, and locked it just as Damien stormed into the hall. She ducked down so he couldn’t see her through the glass as he tried the handle, and finding it still locked she heard his heavy footsteps on the stairs.

“
I will kill you this time, I swear to God I will. You have tested me beyond my limits.” As she ran from the house Ursula glanced back and she could see his shadow move up the stairs. It was raining again but she barely even noticed it soaking through her clothes.

There we
re no neighbours for miles and the only plan she could think of was to follow the coastal road to Bonnie’s house where she could get help. When she realised that this is exactly what he’d expect her to do she stopped abruptly. The road was very narrow with cliffs on one side and a steep, rocky incline on the other for most of the way. It would be very dangerous for her to walk along in the dark, and if he did come after her there was nowhere to hide.