CHAPTER ELEVEN
Throughout the evening Alicia had sulked in her room. What right had they to have a party when she was too ill to attend? It showed gross indifference to the state of her health. For all they cared, she could die here while they had their party.
And that simpering companion, Jennifer. “If you feel you are being left out, why don’t you get out of bed and join us for dinner? I’m sure everyone would be delighted and I’ll be glad to help you all I can.”
As if there were nothing at all wrong with her, as if she were just making it all up. She knew that was what they believed, all of them, probably even that stupid doctor. What did they know of what she suffered every day? If they knew, or cared at all, Walter would have done what she asked long ago and gotten rid of that awful witch-child.
They were fools, all of them, taken in by that put-on air of innocence. That child of the swamp. And while they simpered and prattled and had their dinner parties, she, Alicia, was dying.
She caught at her throat, tugging at the ribbon she wore there. If felt as if it were choking her. With a gesture of impatience she yanked it free and threw it on the floor, but the feeling lingered, as if ghostly hands were squeezing at her throat.
“It’s that girl and her tricks,” she muttered. From the parlor came the sound of singing. She listened to a girlish voice. It must be Jennifer, it certainly could not be Helen, singing a song she did not know. It had a poignant, lingering melody and suddenly her eyes filled with tears.
She felt so alone, so unloved and unwanted. She thought of Walter and nearly reached for the bell to ring for him, but at the last moment she stayed her hand. He would come along when she rang, sit and hold her hand, his face wooden and his voice unfeeling, and assure her that everything was all right.
Annie Laurie. Now they were singing Annie Laurie, and even at the distance she could pick out Walter’s rich baritone and Jennifer’s sweet soprano.
Those two, always exchanging glances. As if she weren’t supposed to see, as if she were too stupid to figure them out. She had seen Walter’s eyes devouring Jennifer’s slim young figure, had seen lust in his eyes—naked, ugly animal lust. He never came to his own wife’s bed, but he could lust after any pretty young woman who came around.
Well, let him lust, Alicia thought, smiling bitterly to herself. So far it hadn’t done him any good, she was sure of that.
Would they never finish with that blasted song? “Gave me her promise true...which ne’er forgot will be....” She mouthed the words, her voice a hoarse croaking whisper.
Of course, if Jennifer ever encouraged him...but she wouldn’t, not her. And it suited Alicia to have her around. At least she was someone who listened to her, who gave her a little bit of attention. Besides, she was keeping her eye on that Liza. Jennifer had promised she would do that.
If only she could catch Liza up to her shenanigans. Then they would all know she was right, and that she wasn’t crazy. Then Walter would have to get rid of the brat.
Hardly even thinking about what she meant to do, she got out of the bed and grabbed the robe that was always close at hand. She would discover for herself what mischief Liza was up to.
She was not even aware that the singing had finished some minutes before. She stole along the hall, knowing where she would find the children.
As she came near, she heard the sound of childish laughter and applause. She paused for a minute or so, wondering what the children were doing. Perhaps she should wait until Liza was alone.
Curiosity prodded her to go on, however, and she went to the open door. She was surprised to see Jennifer in the room, her back to the hall, and the children were all gathered around the table, watching something.
Noiselessly Alicia moved into the room, so that she could see past Jennifer’s shoulder. She saw Liza holding something in her hand, moving it around. When she set it down, Alicia saw that it was a kind of doll, done up to look like a hen.
What on earth, she wondered, frowning? The child began to wave her hands over the doll and Alicia felt a cold chill, and then a glimmer of triumph. Perhaps this was it, the opportunity she had been waiting for, to catch that evil child in one of her witch acts.
Liza lifted the doll—and there on the table was an egg. It had not been there before, Alicia was certain of that. It had been laid, by a handful of straw and feathers. And if that wasn’t witchcraft, she surely didn’t know what was.
That was when she screamed.
* * * * * * *
It was unfortunate that the incident had to occur with so many people in the house, Jennifer was to think later. If they had been alone—but then, Liza would probably not have been performing her little stunt.
As it was, Alicia’s screams brought everyone from the parlor, crowding into the room with the children. Jennifer tried to assure them it was only a trick, but Alicia was hysterical and had to be carried back to bed. By that time, Liza was so frightened she could not do her trick again, to show the others how harmless it was.
“Well, show us how you did it, anyway,” Helen demanded.
Jennifer saw that Liza was on the verge of tears, and she interceded. “Please,” she said, “I think Liza needs to go to bed.”
Despite disappointment, the others had to agree that she was right, and Jennifer managed to spirit Liza away from the crowd and up to her room.
Liza was even more than usually subdued, but she allowed Jennifer to help her undress and get ready for bed. For perhaps the first time since they had met, she did not seem to be at odds with Jennifer.
When she was almost ready for bed, Liza said, “Do you think Walter will be angry with me?”
“I think it is safe to say you caused a bit of an uproar,” Jennifer said. “Alicia will not get over this too quickly.”
Liza shot her a startled look. “What will she do?”
“Why, I...I don’t know,” Jennifer said, seeing genuine fear in the girl’s eyes. “Now I don’t think you need to worry unduly about that. Alicia is a little hysterical but at heart she’s probably very fair. And Walter certainly will not let anything too terrible happen.”
“She’ll make him send me away. Oh, don’t let them do that.” She suddenly threw herself against Jennifer and flung her arms about her, clinging wildly.
For a moment Jennifer had the odd feeling that Liza was only play acting. She saw that Liza’s tears were genuine, however, and the feeling passed. She patted her shoulder comfortingly. “There, now, there’s nothing to be gained by getting yourself worked up over this.”
“But promise me, you won’t let them send me away.”
“Why, it’s not up to me, I’m sure. I only work here, don’t you remember?”
“But they listen to you. Alicia listens to you, and Walter likes you, so he’ll listen. He’ll do whatever you tell him to do.”
Jennifer stiffened and although they were alone in the room, she felt her face turn red. Liza didn’t know what she was saying, of course, she did not mean it to sound the way it did.
“I think you had better get into bed now,” she said firmly. But when Liza was in bed and Jennifer on her way out, she said, “You will talk to them, won’t you?”
“Yes, I will talk to them.”
* * * * * * *
Alicia’s hysterical outburst had effectively ended the party. Amid the flurry of leavetaking, Jennifer could not help but observe the scarcely contained excitement of the ladies. By midday tomorrow, no doubt most of the countryside would know of Alicia’s latest outburst, with vivid details, perhaps some of them invented.
She joined the Deres while they bade their guests goodnight. When the door had closed on the last of them, Jennifer went alone to the parlor. She felt the need of a few moments to compose her thoughts.
Liza had observed something between her and Walter, something that transcended physical contact. Even if she did not really know what she was saying, Liza’s remark must indicate that she had seen, or instinctively guessed, the threatening closeness between them.
There was only one thing she could do. She must leave Darkwater, before others reached the same conclusion. What if Alicia should discern how she felt? Or even Helen. It would be scandal. More than that, it would mean pain for Walter and his family, pain she had no right to inflict. No, she must go away. Even in her short time here, she had accumulated some money, enough to take her away, at least. She had found this position, surely she could find another. She would tell Walter at once.
She jumped to her feet and went in search of Walter, determined to resolve things while she still had the will to act.
Walter and Helen were not in the hall near the door, where she had left them. She wondered if perhaps they had gone up to bed. But, no, they would not do that without putting out the lamps.
She heard their voices coming from the dining room. Not until she was at the door did she realize they were quarreling. Her first instinct was to leave, but before she could do so, she could not help overhearing a part of their argument.
“That child must leave,” Helen was saying in a firm voice. “If there is to be any peace in this house ever again, you must send her out to work.”
“I can’t,” Walter said. “You know what that means for a young girl. I won’t do it.”
“You must. It is the only way.”
“I gave her my word I would see she was taken care of.”
Jennifer did not hear the rest because she was already walking away. She did not wish to be guilty of eavesdropping. At the same time, though, she had promised Liza she would speak to the Deres on her behalf. She hesitated, wondering if perhaps this would not be the best opportunity to do so.
Instead, she returned to the parlor. She did not know what she should do. She could admit that there was some validity to what Helen had said. There was no doubt that Liza was a part of the discord that reigned here at Darkwater, seething just below the surface and sometimes erupting as it did tonight.
But was sending her away the answer? Or is the answer to go myself, Jennifer wondered?
She went to the piano, her fingers idly running over the keys, softly picking out the melody to “The Last Rose of Summer.”
“That’s a very sad song,” Walter said from behind her.
“Perhaps not so much sad as reflective,” she said, turning toward him. “I did not hear you coming.”
“Maybe I wanted it that way. Maybe I wanted a moment to look at you without your running away from me.”
She felt her face turn crimson but she did not avoid his eyes. “I heard part of your conversation just now. I did not mean to eavesdrop. I was looking for you to tell you something.”
“Then you know that Helen wants me to send Liza away?”
She nodded. Her heart was pounding and she knew she should have told him without hesitation what it was she had intended to tell him.
He sighed, totally absorbed now in his continuing problem with Liza. “I don’t know what to do. Alicia believes that Liza is responsible for her illness. It’s nonsense, of course, but Alicia believes it and that amounts to the same thing in the long run.”
He shook his head and began to pace back and forth. “But, to send her way...I promised her a home here. It seems so heartless to turn her out now. You know what it’s like for a girl in service.”
“I know that it can certainly be dreadful.” She started to say something more and hesitated. She did not want to overstep the boundaries of their relationship—and yet, perhaps if she knew more, she could help more.
“Tell me about Liza,” she said impulsively. “How did you happen to bring her here?”
He looked at her oddly and she thought briefly that he resented her question, but he did not say so.
“I found her in the swamp.” He spoke slowly at first, as if he held back from telling this story, but gradually the words came more freely and he sounded relieved to be sharing it with her.
“I was out hunting and I heard someone cry out. I thought someone had gotten hurt, as can happen in the swamp, and I followed the sounds. What I found was old Mrs. Hodges, beating a young girl with a stick.”
“Of course I made her stop and demanded an explanation. She told me Liza was her daughter. I knew that wasn’t true, but she stuck to her story. Liza couldn’t stop crying long enough to tell me anything, and she was obviously still terrified of Mrs. Hodges. If you could have seen how the little girl cowered, and clung to me when she thought I was going to leave her there.” He gave his head a shake, remembering.
“Finally I took Liza away with me. Mrs. Hodges ran after me for a time, cursing me and threatening me with all kinds of dire calamities—I suppose you know, the local folks believe she is a witch.”
“So I have heard.”
“Finally I warned her that I would use my influence to have her sent away from here altogether. That had some effect, and she left us, still muttering and shaking her fist.
“Once she had gone, I was able to get Liza calmed down enough to talk to me. She told me her parents had been part of a traveling carnival, and they had both died in an accident. Her father’s partner took over the show and for a time she had lived with him, but he was cruel to her, in unspeakable ways, and she ran away, into the swamp. But she got lost and wandered for days before Mrs. Hodges found her. By then she was so tired and hungry that she couldn’t go any further, and she stayed with Mrs. Hodges in that shack of hers.”
He paused for a moment and resumed his pacing, back and forth. She did not intrude on his thoughts with questions, sure that he would finish his story in his own time.
“Eventually, Mrs. Hodges came to think of Liza as her own daughter, don’t ask me why. But she also began to make demands on her. She made her work until she was exhausted, and if Liza did not do just as she was told, Mrs. Hodges would beat her until the child begged for mercy. It was on one of those occasions that I happened along and brought Liza back here with me.”
He turned and looked directly into Jennifer’s eyes. “I promised her a home. How can I turn around now and send her away again to the same sort of treatment or maybe even worse?”
Her heart went out to this big, rugged man who could at the same time express such concern for another’s well-being.”
“I don’t believe you can,” she said softly.
“But, Alicia....”
“...Is Alicia. She is jealous by nature, and possessive, and she is consumed with her own discontent. I believe that if you were to send Liza away, things would be a little better for a short while, until Alicia found another target for her bitterness. Forgive me, I have no right to speak like this of your wife....”
“No, it’s all right. I want you to speak freely. What of Alicia’s illness?”
“The doctor says there is nothing wrong with her medically. I do not know what you can do, but it has been my own observation that to give in to such a condition is to encourage it to worsen. Thus far everyone has gone along with the idea of Alicia’s dire illness. Perhaps if you were firm...it might help. I don’t know. I’m not a doctor, of course.”
“No,” he said in a voice so soft it could barely be heard. “Only an angel. Only the best thing that ever came into my life.”
She knew that now was the time to speak, to tell him of her decision to leave Darkwater, but for a moment the words would not come, and then it was too late.
“Promise me you won’t leave,” he said, as if he had read her thoughts. “Stay here and help us. We need you here. I need you. And Alicia needs you too, of course. It has helped her already, having someone like you in the house.”
“How can you say that, after tonight?”
“These outbursts are not new, I can assure you of that. She had as many or more before. At least you have made things a little more pleasant for...for all of us.”
She knew of course that she could not go now, not after he had asked her to stay, not after he had told her he needed her. Though the darkest tragedy might threaten, though she might forfeit every chance for happiness in the future, she knew she would remain, close at his side, to serve in any way that he might need her. To do otherwise would be to betray herself, to betray her innermost desires.
She had not spoken in a long moment, and with an anxious expression on his face, he said, “You will stay, won’t you?”
He leaned toward her, as if he meant to kiss her, and her heart went pounding—but Helen appeared at the door just then. She stopped, saying nothing, only looking from one to the other.
“Good night,” Jennifer said, and before either could say anything further, she was by them and out of the room, running toward the stairs.