The Wrong Girl (Freak House) (7 page)

He stiffened when he realized I was awake. "There's tea on the table beside the bed. It's probably gone cold by now."

I sat up and gratefully sipped the tea. It was indeed cold, but I didn't care. My mouth and throat were dry. I drained the cup and refilled it from the teapot.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Like a prisoner."

He leaned back in the chair and stretched out his long legs, crossing them at the ankles. He crossed his arms too and regarded me through half-lowered lashes. "August is furious that you tried to escape."

"He's not the only one with a temper."

"I can see that," he said with a sardonic tilt of his lips. "Why did you try to leave, Violet? I thought we went through this. I thought you understood that you would come to no harm here."

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and sat up. "You'll forgive me if I don't believe a word you say. I find it hard to trust the man who kidnapped me. Even harder to trust the man who sits up there and makes it very clear I am not to question his authority or my predicament."

He rubbed a hand through his hair, upsetting its neat arrangement and causing it to tumble over his forehead. "I understand your need to know what's going on. Believe me, I do. But I can assure you, in this case, it's black and white. There are no secret experiments being conducted, no foul play."

I huffed out a humorless laugh. "If that's the case, why keep me against my will?"

"It doesn't have to be against your will, Violet." When I didn't answer, he added, "To protect you from yourself. And protect others too, of course."

There was a kernel of truth in what he said, although I still had strong doubts. "Then why the need to kidnap me from Windamere in the first place?"

The muscles in his jaw shifted and he looked away. It was a long time before he said, "That was necessary. Lord Wade would not have let you come to us freely, no matter what you think. He cared about you in his own way, but not enough to allow you to be trained. Like you, he would have suspected our reasons were more...insidious. It's unfortunate, but there's the truth of it."

I said nothing to that. I knew little of Lord Wade and nothing of his innermost thoughts toward his daughter.

"You can trust me, Violet. I give you my word on that."

I wanted so desperately to believe him. My heart ached with the need to trust him, to feel safe, to have a friend in this place. "Tell me, is my door still locked?"

"No."

I blinked at him. "When you leave here, will you lock it?"

"No. I've talked August into coming to an agreement."

"What sort of agreement?"

"It's conditional on an arrangement between you and me. If you agree not to try to escape, he'll allow you to go about the entire estate and into the village with Sylvia and I."

I cocked my head to the side and regarded him. "What makes you think I'll try not to escape even after promising not to?"

"Because I'm going to strike a deal with you. You may leave Frakingham by Christmas. You should be able to control your talent by then and will have no need of me anyway. I'll even drive you back and smooth things over with Lord Wade." He huffed out a breath. "Or try to."

It was a wonderful notion. Except for one major problem. "What if I make absolutely no progress by Christmas? Not even a little bit. Will you still let me go home?"

He shrugged. "Of course." By the dismissive way he said it, I got the feeling he didn't consider it an option.

"Then I agree to remain here until then." After all, Christmas was only five weeks away. I could pretend that my talent, as he called it, had gone into hibernation until then.

He gave a firm nod. "Good. I'm glad we could help each other out. Perhaps August won't want to rip my head off next time I walk into his rooms."

"He blames you for my attempted escape?"

"I was the one who convinced him you would stay once you realized we meant no harm." He gave me a lopsided smile. "It seems I didn't quite understand you as much as I thought I did."

"I'm glad to hear I'm not so predictable."

He stopped smiling. Indeed, his forehead creased into a frown. "You haven't asked how he is."

"Your uncle? Why should I? I assume he's still angry. Perhaps a little surprised too."

"You're right on both counts. Your unconsciousness was certainly unexpected. I'll go and talk to him again and tell him you've agreed to stay."

I made to rise, but he waved me back. "No, don't get up. Rest. If you don't mind, I'll send Sylvia in. She's been desperate to see you, but I made her wait."

"I'd like to see her too." I was startled to realize it was the truth. I didn't want to be alone. Sylvia's company would be a pleasant diversion.

Jack left and his cousin breezed past him as soon as he opened the door. She must have been waiting outside.

"Thank goodness you're all right!" She clasped my hands. "I was so worried about you when I realized you'd run away."

"You didn't even know I was gone until Bollard brought me back."

She glanced at the door and leaned closer to whisper. "Yes, well, I grew worried when I saw Bollard dragging you in and holding that shovel..." She shuddered and closed her eyes.

"Does he often go into the woods with gardening implements?"

"I don't think so. He rarely leaves Uncle's side. Uncle relies on him so much, not only to wheel him about, but he's also valet, laboratory assistant—"

"Laboratory assistant!"

"Oh yes. Uncle August may have sold his business interests, but he continues to dabble in this and that."

"This and that? Care to elaborate?"

"I would if I could, but I don't know what he does up there. Something pharmaceutical. It's all hocus pocus to me." She wiggled her fingers as if conjuring a rabbit from a hat.

"He's a chemist, your uncle? Is that how he made his money?"

"He's a microbiologist. He develops remedies, drugs, that sort of thing."

"Remedies for which ailments?"

"I forget now. Anyway, he and his partner sold a highly sought-after remedy to a large company for a lot of money. It allowed him to buy Frakingham. I was nine when we moved here."

"All three of you?"

She got up and walked to the window. "Both Jack's and my parents died when we were young. Uncle August took us in."

"They were brothers?"

"Who?"

"Your father, Jack's father, and your uncle. Otherwise you wouldn't all share the same surname."

"Yes. Of course they were brothers." She returned to looking out the window. I expected her to keep talking since she seemed to like the sound of her own voice, but she said nothing further.

"Is Bollard a genuine mute?" I asked.

She came back to sit on the bed beside me. "He's been that way for as long as I've known him."

"So he was born that way?"

She shrugged.

"Let me guess. Don't ask him?"

"Good lord, no!" She pressed a hand to her breast. "Please don't."

"He couldn't answer me even if I did." We both giggled but quickly stopped because it seemed a little cruel, although I wasn't sure Bollard deserved our sympathies. "Don't worry," I said. "I won't try to learn his secrets." The rest of the secrets harbored within Frakingham's walls were fair game, and I planned to uncover them before I left at Christmas.

Beginning with what Jack knew about his condition, and how he and Vi had come to be fire starters.

Sylvia suddenly hugged me so hard that I had to put out a hand to steady myself. "I'm so relieved you've agreed to accept your situation and stay," she said, blinking back tears. "It'll bring some peace and quiet to the house at last."

"Whatever do you mean?"

"I suppose you couldn't hear them from in here, but Jack and Uncle August argued over what to do with you as soon as Jack returned. Uncle wanted to keep you imprisoned in this room, but Jack refused to train you if that happened. Their voices became so loud I could hear them from downstairs. Uncle was still terribly upset by the break in, you see, and then your attempted escape and now this. He was most shaken."

"Jack didn't back down?"

"Oh no. He was most, uh, vehement in his response. I think Uncle grew quite afraid of him after his own temper cooled, and just gave in."

That surprised me, until I remembered what Jack was capable of doing if he chose to. I swallowed. It was a good reminder that Jack Langley was not to be crossed. If his own uncle feared what he'd do, then so must I.

"I'll have to remember to thank him," I said.

"I doubt he wants thanks for doing something he sees as right. He has the strongest morals, my cousin. Odd really, considering his past. Anyway." She clasped my hands in both of her own. "You and I will become great friends. I know it."

"It's only until Christmas." As soon as I said it, I wished I could take it back. Her face fell, her smile wobbled and finally slipped off altogether. Her hands retreated back to her lap.

"Oh. Of course." She stood and smoothed down the front of her skirt. "Only until Christmas."

"I hope there'll be many opportunities for us to go into the village together before then."

That seemed to appease her somewhat and her face lifted. "That's if Jack's training isn't so rigorous that he'll keep you all to himself."

The thought rather thrilled me, but I didn't think Sylvia needed to hear that.

***

Training began immediately after luncheon. Jack took me to a room on the first floor that had a horribly familiar furnishing arrangement. It was bare except for a table, two chairs and a lot of woolen rugs and hangings covering every inch of wood. Three pails of water stood near the fireplace as they did in every attic room at Windamere. It was the strangest thing to be in a similar room at another house that it quite took my breath away.

"I'm sorry it's not more comfortable," Jack said.

"That's all right. But why the caution here? My bedroom isn't set up like this, nor are the parlor or other rooms. You're not afraid I'll set those alight?"

"I didn't want you to suffer the indignity of stark conditions everywhere you went, so I told Sylvia we're not to upset you. If we appease you, then everything should be fine."

It was like listening to only half a conversation. "I don't understand. Appease me?"

"Keep you calm. Not make you angry." He looked at me askance. "You do understand what I'm saying, don't you? I know you can't control it, but you do realize that your talent is linked to your temper?"

I toyed with the idea of agreeing with him, and saying nothing, but I decided a little bit of the truth would lend credence to the lie I was living. "Are you saying that your ability to set things on fire comes about when you're angry?"

"Of course. But I can control my temper." He frowned. "Yours has a different trigger?"

"It's brought on by fear. Grave fear. For my loved ones." The choker at my throat suddenly felt too tight, and I stretched my neck, but it did little to relieve the constriction. I'd thought lying would be easy, but I suddenly felt as if Jack knew my every thought. Those green eyes drilled into me, and I eventually had to sit down and avoid his gaze altogether. If I hadn't, I may have found myself telling him everything.

"Jack, forgive me, but...you seem to know very little about this affliction," I said, rather boldly considering my weakened knees and racing heart.

"It's not an affliction. Don't ever call it that, Violet, or people will see you as a candidate for the asylum." He sat in the other chair without taking his eyes off me. "Fear, you say. Fear for your loved ones. But...that doesn't quite make sense. Firstly, I thought you had no loved ones at Windamere."

"I had a companion."

He nodded slowly. "I saw her with you on your walks. Hannah Smith, isn't it?"

Hearing him say my name for the first time shook me to the core. "You've not answered my question," I said.

"You're right. I know only my own case. I'd assumed yours was exactly the same."

"How did you—we—get this way?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I've been like this for as long as I can remember, so I suppose I was born with it. You?"

"The same. Do you know anyone else who can set things alight?"

"No." He shook his head slowly. "I admit I don't understand why it's only you and I."

"How did you become aware that Lady Violet Jamieson was like you? Considering I've been locked away for so long, it could hardly have been local gossip. Not even the servants knew."

"Are you sure they didn't? If you had servants attending your rooms at all, then they would have seen the burn marks and formed a conclusion of their own."

"Yes, but the
right
conclusion? That is rather a big leap to take, don't you think?"

Another shrug, but he made no further comment.

"So was it gossip that made you aware of me?"

His gaze shifted away. "August told me about you."

"Your uncle? How did he learn of my existence?"

"I don't know. He wouldn't say."

"I see.
When
did he tell you?"

A brief smile touched his lips. "The day before I came to Windamere as a new gardener. I couldn't start quickly enough once I heard."

"You were that eager to spy on me?"

"Of course. I thought I was the only one like this. I thought I was alone." He raised his gaze to mine, and heat shimmered down my body all the way to my toes. "Do you know how relieved I was to find out about you? How happy?" He gave me a grim smile. "Yes, I suppose you do."

My breath came in shallow bursts so that my next words came out as a whisper. "But you weren't alone. You had your uncle and Sylvia."

"It's not the same."

"Isn't it?" I was genuinely curious. Is that how Vi felt? All alone despite having me for company? It explained her melancholy and all those forlorn gazes out the window.

"Not nearly the same." His murmur vibrated through me. He spoke as if I were the only person in the entire world who could ever understand him, and that was a heady, thrilling thing. To be cherished by such an enigmatic, handsome man would make any woman giddy.