The House on Blackstone Moor (The Blackstone Vampires) (14 page)

I was calling to them but soon my calls turned to frantic shouts: “Ada! Simon! Children, where are you? Answer me please!”

But there was no answer. I went f
a
rther
,
until at last I found them.

At first I thought they were eating cake and I was going to admonish them, to tell them they might spoil their luncheon. Then I froze. They weren’t eating, they were drinking.

Simon held a mutilated bird up so that Ada could drink the blood that poured from its headless body. When the blood flow stopped, the children giggled.

I turned and ran until I collapsed in the garden. I don’t remember anything after that, only Tom asking me if I was alright. I don’t know if I answered him.

The next thing I knew, I was in my room and Mrs. Darton spoke gently to me. “Tom brought you up here as you must have fainted.”

Suddenly I remembered what I had seen. I must have grown quite disturbed as Mrs. Darton looked upset and offered to call the doctor.“Yes…yes, Dr. Bannion I wish to see him…”

“No my dear, he is back at Marsh and it would take him hours to come here, besides he cannot leave his post. I can send for our own doctor. He’s very good. He has always been our family physician. You rest now, Rose. I shall send Tom for him.”

I must have fallen asleep for some time. I only woke when I realized someone was standing over me. He looked young, in his early thirties, and rather handsome. “Miss Baines, I am Dr. Antor. I understand you haven’t been well.”

I took long to respond. The possibility of me going back to Marsh was not something I was willing to consider.  Perhaps it was better that this doctor came and not Dr. Bannion. Dr. Bannion might have somehow gotten out of me what had really occurred—that I had a hallucination.

“I must have fainted…” I replied, frightened of telling the truth.

He took my hand. “I will just check your pulse now. Yes, it seems regular. I think you’ll live.”

He was nice, I liked his manner. I had begun talking but stopped as soon as Ada appeared. “Oh Miss, are you alright?”

Before I could answer I heard Mrs. Darton’s voice coming from the hall. She was calling to Ada, asking her to come at once.

Thank goodness. You see, I didn’t wish to see the children, not then anyway. Not with that horrible image I had in my head of the dead bird and the blood.

Dr. Antor closed the door behind Ada. He regarded me carefully. “Your color is a bit pale, do you tire easily?”

“No…”

“I think perhaps more meat in your diet is advisable, young lady, along with a glass of red wine. That is what I recommend. Now then, Miss Baines, before I leave I should like to ask you one question, were you thinking of anything before you fainted? It might help me understand just what occurred if you can remember.”

A very sharp and telling observation. “No, I don’t remember anything before, only waking up afterward.”

He nodded. “Well then, I shall go. I would rest now, perhaps even have your meals in your room.”

I watched him leave, sad in the knowledge that I had only my worst fears for company—a two-pronged fear, as I wondered if I had imagined the horror or had I actually seen something. Either way it was frightening.

Mrs. Darton came in later to say that she and the children would not be intruding upon me so that I could rest.
“And please don’t worry about their lessons. They shall have them when you are well. I shall have Dora bring up your dinner tray, Rose.”

I had voiced concern to her over the matter of lessons only recently. Now I didn’t wish to do them at all! Just to think about seeing the children again made me feel sick, as it clearly made the inescapable point that either I had seen a real or imagined horror. Both possibilities were equally alarming.

My mind kept going over the incident again and again. The more I thought about it, the more I convinced myself that I had imagined the entire thing—a preferable alternative actually, as imagined horror is not as awful as real horror.

If the children had done something awful, I didn’t know how I would react, for it would make them monsters. How could I possibly remain with them if that was in fact what they were? And if I left where would I go, back to Marsh?

And if I avoided the madhouse where would I live? How would I support myself?

I knew that if I couldn’t support myself I would be relegated to a workhouse where I would be kept until I died.

The prospect of leaving my employ was too frightful to consider. I had imagined it all and that was going to be that.

The children were good children, bright and well brought up. They’d never do what I thought I had seen.

Dora soon arrived with my tray. “Some nice roast for you, Miss. It’ll go down a treat. I do hope you like it.”

“And that’s the wine, I suppose?” I asked, nodding toward a rather large goblet.

“Yes, it is. And you are to drink it all.”

“I will try.”

I wasn’t very hungry but it smelled good. But when I lifted the tray cover, I thought it looked raw. “The gravy looks awful!” I said. “It’s red and runny.”

Dora studied it. “It is fine meat, Miss, very fresh and done in that manner to give you extra strength. Dr. Antor’s orders.”

I nodded for I remembered Dr. Antor saying I was to have more meat. Yes, I thought, but not so bloody, surely.

“Please
Dora,
ask Molly if she can cook it longer as this is rather raw.”

Dora agreed and reached for it, but something in her eyes stopped me. It was hurt… and fear.

Quickly, I stilled her hand. “No
,
Dora, thank you. I don’t wish to be difficult. I shall eat it this way, I just hope in the future I get something that doesn’t look as though it is about to hop off the plate!”

How I managed to eat it I have no idea but I did, nearly all of it. But as for the wine--it was heavy and strange tasting, with a funny aftertaste.

I thought of spilling it out, but then I dismissed the idea. I didn’t like to do anything untoward. If I was supposed to follow doctor’s orders I would.

When Dora returned for the tray I broached the subject of the club again. “Will Mr. Darton be getting another club, do you think?”

I didn’t think my question weird, but I have to say Dora had the most remarkable look on her face, a look of fear, again. “I can’t say, Miss. I’m sure I don’t know what is in the Master’s mind to do.”

“Well, whatever he does, I am sure he shall be very successful at it.”

Another queer look on Dora’s face, “He is successful, yes. Quite an educated sort he is.”

“Yes, I am certain—and what about Mrs. Darton?” For some reason I felt I wanted to continue questioning Dora. Perhaps it was wicked of me to put her on the spot like that but I did not back down as my curiosity had gotten the better of me,  “I mean they are both so well-spoken.”

“Yes they are, Miss.” She started for the door. “Well, if there is nothing else I’d best be going.”

She excused herself again, leaving me alone to wonder about so much, about her and the Dartons, but most especially about Mr. Darton.

He struck me as a sad individual. Sad and troubled by something I was determined to find the cause of. 

I felt he wore tragedy like a mantle and I was finding it broke my heart. But then again, I was finding myself thinking almost constantly of him. I had already become obsessed with him. He made my heart race every time I set my eyes on him, every time my eyes met his.

That face
. His face was central to all of my thinking. Quietly, maddeningly, he’d crawled under my skin. Mr. Darton with his coal black eyes and hair was already ruling my heart and every aspect of my being.

*

In time, my meals became somewhat more tolerable, but were still heavy as each of them contained meat.

But I didn’t complain. I ate what I was given for I did wish to follow Dr. Antor’s orders.

Within a few days I had recovered sufficiently to return to my duties, fully optimistic and happy in my desire to teach the children.

I was by this time firm in my belief that I had indeed imagined that horror with the bird and the children. It was the only way I found I could cope with what had happened to me.

I had a position I would fill—I was not prepared to throw my hands up and be carted off back to the asylum.

Besides, I reasoned, they couldn’t be monsters. They were lovely children. Children I had really developed affection for. All was well, but for my weak mind and proclivity toward madness.

Like father like daughter?

With that unsettling thought, I went to the nursery. Ada was bent over her slate writing her numbers while Simon was reading aloud. It sounded like a fairy tale. His voice was somewhat strident but pleasant, so well-spoken for a child of his age.

Ada must have felt my eyes upon her for she turned then. “Oh, Miss Baines!” Her face lit up and her eyes shone with love and I felt overcome with emotion myself.

“Good morning, children.”

Ada ran to throw her arms around me and Simon followed, just as happy but far more subdued. “Are you feeling better?” he asked.

“I think I am.”

They told me how upset they were and how very happy they were to see me. “Mama said you needed your rest. We did so want to see you though.”

My eyes filled with tears. “Thank you, children. I am much better now.”

Ada took my hand. “What happened to you then, was it something you ate?”

Simon gave her a scolding look but I laughed. “No, dear. Something else I think, but I am much better now and that’s what counts.”

We did our lessons. As Simon was older I had him read history and tell me the dates of battles while Ada did her sums.

Their knowledge was quite remarkable. I praised them whereby they both exchanged amused looks with one another and giggled.

“What is that about?” I asked, smiling too. “You are very clever children and have quite amazed me with your learning. You must have had excellent tutors.”

Ada began to speak but Simon interrupted her. “Yes, we have rather, many too and all expert in their field.”

“I should say so.”

Truly I was amazed, particularly with their grasp of mediaeval European history. “We love it except for some things,” Ada sighed.

Simon began to doodle.

“Well, there are some unpleasant occurrences to be sure. There was the Inquisition and plagues and so on…and battles…”

“And witch hunts,” Simon replied, still doodling.

“Yes, of course…”

Suddenly, Ada began to cry. Simon put down his pencil and went to comfort her. “There, there Ada. It’s alright. We’re happy now, aren’t we?”

What an odd thing to say, I thought, one of many odd things.

Recently, I had found them up quite late, chattering and laughing as they shared some secret.

I insisted they go to sleep whereupon Ada had said she quite liked sleep. “For I do so enjoy dreaming, Miss, as Simon does. Don’t you, Simon?”

Simon said he did but his eyes looked slightly guarded as though he didn’t wish to say more or for Ada to say more, either.

But the moment passed and with it my feeling of alienation and confusion.

We finished our lessons early as we had a rather full morning so I suggested we have our lunch in the garden.

“What a grand idea. Might I tell Molly now?”

“Yes, Ada. You do that. And ask her please to make some sandwiches, it will be easier that way.”

The children were delighted. Ada clapped her hands. “That is wonderful and we have already had our brew.”

As soon as she said that she blanched and glanced over at Simon. He just glared at her as if she had said something wrong. Another mysterious moment had occurred that I did not understand.

I did say something. “You’ve had your tea then at breakfast, do you mean? So have I.” I smiled.

Neither of them said anything, which made me wonder. But it was a lovely day and I didn’t want to fret.

I was pleased that Molly had given us a lunch with no meat. Ada was pleased as well. “I do love cucumber sandwiches; I should imagine that is what the Queen serves in her tea garden.”

I smiled. “Come now and we shall have our own party.”

And so we made our way to the garden, where we dined on dainty little tea sandwiches
while
sitting in the shade of a giant oak not far from the cherub statue. I felt good and the children looked happy as well.

“Shall we feel guilty to have this afternoon off do you think, Miss Baines?”

I laughed for Ada had quite surprised me with such a question. “Why, no, Ada, why do you ask?”

She gave me a winning smile and shrugged. “Sometimes in the past we were punished for idleness.”

“That’s awful.”

Simon nodded. “It is rather. But we’ve had some terrible tutors; you are a breath of fresh air.”