I didn’t sleep well. Bad dreams haunted me. Ever since my wedding portrait had been painted and hung above the mezzanine, my head had been assaulted by a persistent headache that had lasted two days and two nights. But it was on the eve of my wedding when the real nightmare began. I sensed someone was in my room. I was still half asleep, barely conscious. A nagging sensation in my chest told me to open my eyes. Why couldn’t I? My lids refused to flutter apart. My legs were stiff, my arms incapacitated. Was someone holding me down? Yes, someone was. Their hand was pressing against my mouth, pinching my nose, stopping the air flowing in and out.
Kick. Wriggle. Do something. Fight them off!
But I couldn’t. My body wouldn’t meet the demands my brain screamed for them to do.
Cold sweat latched on to my body. It saturated my nightdress and soaked into the sheets.
Please, someone help me!
Help me!
“Anna, wake up. Anna! Anna!”
Hands slapped my cheeks, rousing me into the waking world. I gasped, my jaw stiff, my lips heavy where fingers had smothered them.
My mother bent over me, her face paler than I’d ever seen. “Anna, sweetheart, get dressed this instant.”
“What?” I blinked through the darkness, surprised when she pulled me out of bed.
My mother held a candle. Its flame was small and insubstantial compared to the overwhelming shadows that had settled around us. “Get dressed and meet me in the foyer. Do not make a sound. Do you understand?”
I struggled to make sense of what she was asking. “Yes, but… Mother, why? What time is it?”
“It is late. Wear something warm.”
“Mother, you’re frightening me?”
“Just do as I say. Immediately, Anna.”
My mother hurried out of the room, slipping away into the shadows of the hall.
I stood beside my bed, unsure what to do. My mother had been acting so strange lately. She’d been stressed by my upcoming nuptials, but I’d never realised just how far it had gone.
Is she hysterical?
Is she paranoid?
All the evidence pointed to yes.
But I was a dutiful daughter. Whatever my mother was going through, I’d be there for her.
I hurried to my wardrobe and found my favourite winter dress and coat. Would I need a hat? Surely we weren’t going outside. And what about my hair? I needed Sophia, my lady’s maid, to attend to it. It wouldn’t be proper to go downstairs without being dressed. My mother knew that.
Perhaps I should ring the bell. Call for help. Frederick will understand. My mother is ill.
My body was both hot and cold. Perspiration dripped from my hairline. I had to open a window. I needed cool air. The room was so dark and stuffy.
I’d just undone the latch, relishing in the feel of brisk wind against my skin, when Sophia appeared.
She bent in a small curtsy in the doorway. “Miss Sinclair. I’m here to dress you.”
“Did my mother send you?”
Sophia’s delicate face crinkled into a frown. “No, miss. Mr Wolvercraft did. He arrived late this evening and waits downstairs with your mother. You’re to be married tonight.”
“Tonight?”
This was all happening too fast. Not to mention how very strange it was.
Sophia gave me a small smile. “Mr Wolvercraft must leave again in the morning. He wishes to wed immediately. He’ll be away for some time.”
It struck a nerve with me that even the household staff knew more about my fiancé than I did.
I moved toward the wardrobe and took out my wedding dress, admiring the way the white fabric glimmered against Sophia’s candle. “Mr Wolvercraft spent a small fortune on this gown. While we may not be getting married the way I imagined, it would be a waste not to wear the dress.”
“Yes, indeed it would be, miss.”
“Help me get dressed, please. And even if our time is short, please see if you can do something worthy of a bride for my hair.”
“Of course, Miss Sinclair.”
I glanced at myself in the mirror, my nightdress stained with yellow splotches where I’d sweated.
I will look beautiful for my husband. I will look dignified for my mother.
* * *
Sophia did a splendid job. She had managed perfection in twenty minutes. I never thought of myself as being vain, but in that moment, looking at my reflection in the mirror, I couldn’t help but see a princess out of a fairy book, about to marry her prince. The dress fit me in all the right places, snug and tight near the bodice and loose and flowing at the waist.
Sophia gently placed the veil over my head. She beamed at me. “You’re exquisite, Miss Sinclair. I hope that wasn’t too bold to say.”
“Of course not.” I squeezed her hand. “You have done an amazing job as always. You truly are a lady’s maid to be trusted. I hope I never lose you.”
Sophia’s warm smile waned. She curtsied. “Mr Wolvercraft asked me to accompany you to the chapel.”
“Chapel? I didn’t know there was one in the house.”
Sophia only nodded.
I stole one more glance at myself in the mirror. It wasn’t the wedding day I’d hoped for, but I had no reason to complain. I was about to marry the man I loved. United forever. My smile proved I was the happiest woman in the world. “We best not keep Mr Wolvercraft waiting any longer.”
Or my mother.
* * *
Moonlight spilled off the polished surface of the floor. Sophia led me down various hallways I hadn’t known existed. The corridors felt like a maze. I’d forgotten just how huge Wolvercraft Manor truly was. That evening, the interior really did look like the inside of a cathedral, or a resplendent castle somewhere in France, but there was something off about the beautifully carved cherubs that stood as features at every corner. Their faces weren’t quite as angelic but rather appeared strained and cruel in the dim light. It must have been a trick of the dark. I shivered, ill at ease.
“This way, Miss Sinclair. The chapel is just down here.” Sophia entered a long passage with identical doors and hurried at a brisk pace.
I struggled to keep up in my long dress. “Sophia, please slow down.”
She didn’t.
“Sophia, are you sure this is the way?”
It seemed incredible that a chapel would be located at the end of a very dark and lonely passage. And then it struck me. Sophia had said Mr Wolvercraft was in the foyer. “He arrived late this evening and waits downstairs with your mother.”
I stopped, suddenly afraid of the tiny, delicate creature before me. “Sophia?”
She tugged hard on a candelabra fastened to the wall. A loud grating tore through the passage. A doorway opened up from the panelling.
I stepped back.
A secret doorway.
I was so startled my entire body shook. “Sophia, what is going on?”
She stared back at me with sad eyes. “I’m sorry, miss, but they made me do it.”
Her eyes flicked behind me.
I pivoted around, barely having time to recognise the butler and footman ascend upon me. They clamped their hands around my upper arms, hard enough to hurt. I wasn’t afraid anymore. I was furious.
“What are you doing?” My voice was shrill. Surely someone must have heard me. “Let me go this instant.”
But there was no stopping the men. They dragged me toward the hidden doorway. It was my nightmare all over again. I wrenched backward, kicked and thrashed, screamed until my own eardrums felt like they’d shattered.
“Silence her. Now!” Sophia’s voice was a harsh demand.
I glared at her with a look of utter, hurtful betrayal. Was she jealous of me? Did she want Mr Wolvercraft for herself? She had to know that a man of his position would never marry a servant girl.
I screamed again, only this time my ribs were met with a devastating punch that knocked the wind from my chest. My feet stumbled, my legs failing to hold me up. The footman covered my mouth with a cloth, something wet with a horrible stench. The world turned much darker. The floor tilted beneath me.
They’ve poisoned me! They’ve poisoned me!
Someone lifted me off the floor. I couldn’t tell if it was the butler or the footman. Every sensation in my body had gone numb. Even my neck no longer felt secure. My head lolled to the side. I had a fleeting image of passing the hidden door, of hard stone walls and flickering candlelight, before everything went dark.