June 1, 1846
There was a woman at the party last night. She had hair the colour of fire and skin so fair it seemed as luminous as the moon. I did not like the way she watched my Anna. Perhaps it is mother’s intuition, or my ability to see beyond what the normal eye can accept, but I sense evil in this woman. Many people here in Ashvall believe evil witches live among us. I think they may be right.
This woman did not seem shocked by Frederick’s announcement of the engagement, but she did not look pleased by it either. Many times throughout the evening I saw her approach Frederick. I did not like the way she spoke to him with such familiarity, or the way she touched his arm with a firmness that was almost possessive. At any time I happened the chance to glance upon them, they stood so close that not even the smallest margin of air could breathe past.
I asked around. Her name is Margaret Thronesby. She has lived on the island for two years with her aunt. An orphan with no prospects. Perhaps that is why she looks so unfavourably at Anna and me. Perhaps she has her eyes set on Frederick.
June 12, 1846
Margaret Thronesby and her aunt, a Mrs Rixon, have dined with us eight times in the last two weeks. I am told by the housekeeper that the pair are frequent guests at the manor. The evidence is there. I am convinced Miss Thronesby is no mere acquaintance to Frederick. She is familiar with Wolvercraft Manor. She touches everything as though it already belongs to her. She watches me and my Anna with an intensity that is, dare I say it, as cruel and forbidding as a demon. I do not like the way her lips move when she speaks. Her voice is sweet and kind, but there is something heartless hidden beneath.
I know what Margaret Thronesby intends. She hopes to marry Frederick. It is laughable. Preposterous. I tell myself she is a lovesick girl who has set her sights too high, but deep inside I do not think she is a girl. Maybe not even a woman. She is something else. There is a savagery inside her that only I am able to see.
Saige frowned, unsure what to make of the journal entries. She had been reading Theodosia’s journal on and off all day, only stopping to drink tea and eat when food was brought to her. Aunt Violet had been replaced by her father, then Dr Ahmadi, and now Xav. Her brother sat in the rocking chair, pretending to read. Saige knew by the way his hands were so highly strung, the veins protruding out of the white skin, that he was too tense to lose himself in a book.
She looked at the small wall clock: 8:00 p.m. The day had disappeared too fast. It seemed to have just melted away. She focused back on the journal.
Theodosia doesn’t come across as mad in any of these entries. She was certainly suspicious about Margaret Thronesby. I wonder if Aunt Prue has ever heard of her.
Saige read through more of the entries. The storm outside continued to rage. The thunder was the worst. Saige remembered her father sitting her down to tell her what thunder was when she was seven years old. “It can’t hurt you, sweetie. It’s God moving his furniture upstairs. He has a very loud way of doing it.”
Saige looked up at the ceiling, listening to the angry forces in the sky.
If God’s moving his furniture, he must be relocating a piano.
Her brother stood up and stretched. “I’m going to make a sandwich. You want one?”
“Ham, cheese, and tomato, please.”
Xav left. He locked the door behind him, the click of the key reminding her that she was a prisoner in her own room.
She wasn’t really hungry. All she wanted was twenty minutes or so to herself. She checked her phone. Still dead.
Did you really expect any different?
Harriette isn’t going to contact you again when you’re locked in a room and useless.
She focused on the journal once more.
June 19, 1846
We are leaving. The engagement is off. I have instructed Anna to pack and to be ready at 11:00 p.m. I have secured us passage to Guernsey on a small fishing drifter and paid the captain to remain quiet. We cannot stay at Wolvercraft Manor. Frederick is not faithful. I saw him kissing Margaret Thronesby in the library. They thought they were alone. They thought they were discreet. I heard her whisper to him, and it did not sound like any known language on this earth. It was a spell. I am positive she is a witch.
I hid and listened to their plan for a long time. She has bewitched Frederick. She has convinced him to marry for my fortune and, when he possesses it, to remove me and my Anna. Then Frederick will marry Margaret.
I have learned a great many sad truths today. Frederick is bankrupt. He gambles often and loses frequently. He drinks to excess and treats his staff with appalling indifference. The house, its loveliness and extravagance, is a ploy to hide his ugliness. He can no longer afford the house or his indulgent lifestyle. That is why he needs me. My money.
Anna and I are in danger. I fear that if we remain another day longer in this house, we will be killed.
Saige sat ramrod straight. A ripple of fear spread through her.
What did he do to you, Theodosia?
To Anna?
She turned the page, surprised to find no words on the next sheet.
Saige stared at the empty page for a long time.
Did Frederick kill them?
Do we have a murderer in our family?
She instinctively felt that the answer was yes.
Saige stepped out of bed, dizzy from the truth. She went to the bathroom to wash her face and calm her shock. She stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair was long and unbrushed, almost a golden red in the candlelight. Dark smudges ringed her eyes. She looked too thin in her white nightdress. It ballooned around her.
I’ve lost weight. I look dead. I look like a… ghost.
I wonder if this is what Theodosia and Anna felt like when they learned the truth.
She reeled around when someone tapped on the bedroom door.
She darted back into her room. “Xav?”
No answer.
Xav has a key. He wouldn’t need to knock.
Blood rose in her neck.
What if it’s Theodosia? What if she knows I’ve discovered her secret?
Candlelight sent flickering shadows across the door.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Her stomach heaved when a shadow fell beneath the door’s diminutive gap.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
“Saige, are you there?” The whisper was tight and hoarse.
Saige inhaled a relieved breath. She ran to the door. “Jasper?”
“Yes. I’ve been waiting hours for your brother to leave.”
“He’ll be back. You shouldn’t be out in the hall alone. Not when Theodosia….”
Could sneak up and kill you.
The terrifying thought made her entire body ache. “Jasper, go back to your room. Lock the door.”
He laughed, but the tone held a hint of tension. “Saige, I….”
She waited.
Has something else happened?
For a moment, she wondered if he had left. She pressed her hand to the door. “Jasper?”
“I want to talk.”
Despair and longing seeped from his voice. She wondered if there was sorrow in his gaze too. No matter how much she told herself she despised Jasper, hated him for what he’d done to her, her heart disagreed. It was a battle she’d been fighting for years, burning her from the inside out. She was too tired to contest it.
His voice was uneven. “I’m sorry… for what I did. I’ve missed you. I didn’t come to the island for Xav’s wedding. I think you’ve already figured that out. I came back for you.”
She couldn’t speak. She hugged her elbows, wishing she could extract all the heartache from her body as she silently dropped to the floor and cried. It had crossed her mind that Jasper had come to the island for her. She’d told herself it wasn’t true, but her feelings had betrayed her better judgement and had made her hope.
Why did he have to confess this now?
“Saige? When all of this is over… can we try us again?”
A sob caught in her throat. She sat against the wall, afraid she’d unravel and break down completely. “You’ve seen what’s happened in this house. You’ve seen how… my family look at me. I’ll be hospitalised.”
“That won’t happen.”
“It will.”
“Then I’ll tell your father the truth. About everything.”
Saige couldn’t help a short, unamused laugh. “If you do that, you’ll be locked away in a
mental asylum too.”
“I don’t mean the ghosts.” The insistence in his voice frightened her. “I mean us. I’ll
tell him about our previous engagement.”
She felt her desperation reignite. “That will just make him hate you.”
“I’m willing to risk that. I love you, Saige. If I have to wait, then that’s what I’ll do.”
Saige couldn’t speak. Her emotions became a disjointed mess. Love. Elation. Terror. Regret. It all flowed out of her, cinching into a knot that tightened her airways and left her puzzled and unsure. Against her better judgement, against her self-respect, she’d fantasised hearing Jasper say those words for years, and now that he finally had, it was impossible for them to be together. If she told him she loved him, too, the curse would claim him.
Her eyes were damp and swollen. Afraid she’d lose her resolve if she didn’t act quickly, she wiped the tears from her face. “Jasper, please make me a promise.”
“Anything.”
“When this storm is over, leave the island the first chance you have. This curse… I don’t think it applies only to women who marry into the Wolvercraft family.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been reading Theodosia’s journal. I think the curse applies to any member of the
Wolvercraft family. If we love someone, that person dies. Married or not. Aunt Prue lost her fiancé. Jasper, you need to stay away from me.”
He was quiet for a moment. “So you do love me?”
Her spine stiffened. She had two choices.
Confess everything?
Or force him away?
The curse will claim him. I can’t let that happen.
There is no happy ending for us.
“Saige?”
She was unable to control the quiver in her lower lip. “Please stay away. Don’t come near me.”
“I told you I can wait. When all of this is over and we’re far from this house, we can be together.”
It took a moment for his words to settle in.
Is it possible? Could we do that?
She shook her head. She let go of the fantasy, watching it slip away like a balloon blown in a heavy gust.
Theodosia won’t let that happen.
And I will not be the reason Jasper dies.
She focused on keeping her voice level, but her heart broke inside. “I don’t love you. Please just go away.”
He was quiet for a moment. “Is that what you really want?”
He sounded like he didn’t believe her.
She bit down on her lip. The sharp, fiery pain of the lie threatened to rip her in two.
“Yes. You hurt me. I don’t forgive you. I’ll never forgive. Now leave.”
It was the silence on the other side of the door that hurt her the most. She’d been convincing. He’d left.
Goodbye, Jasper.
She tried to make sense of what just happened, of hopes and dreams shattered and gone forever. Her breathing was shallow and choppy. She ran to the bathroom and knelt over the toilet, unable to stop the retching. The poisonous heartache had made her insides sicken. Her skin was lathered in cold sweat, and the more she cried, the more the tiled floor seemed to rush at her.
I’m dizzy. I just need to lie down.
At the basin, she pressed a wet cloth to her face, then drank some of the cold water from the faucet, hoping to expel the foul taste in her mouth. In the mirror, her red eyes stared back at her. She looked miserable. Her shoulders sagged, her skin so pale she couldn’t help but wonder if her family would think she was chronically ill.
Why do I never get a happy ending?
Saige couldn’t take it anymore. She ran back into her room, jumped into bed, and threw the covers over herself. She had wrapped her body in a dark cocoon where there was nothing but reflection and agony.
To hell if Xav returns to find me like this. He already thinks I’m nuts.
She wished for sleep to take her pain away, to numb her. But it took a long time for the dark waters of her unconscious to drown her mind, and by the time it did, a patch in Saige’s pillow was soaked through by tears.