55 
Unpleasant Reflections

The night was late.

Amanda lay in her bed awake. She was more irritated than ever and ill at ease. Many confusing and conflicting thoughts were spinning through her brain.

They probably planned the whole thing, she thought. Why had everyone around here suddenly turned against her!

Her resolve of a few months earlier to get away from Ramsay and seek refuge at home was all but forgotten. The danger past, old annoyances had resurfaced and were quickly regaining the upper hand.

Independence . . . why was everyone talking about that all of a sudden!

What was wrong with being independent anyway? What did they expect, for people to remain little children all their lives? It was ridiculous! Everyone had to grow up and get out from under their parents’ thumb sometime!

All that nonsense Sister Gretchen said about going back home—it was absurd. She would never do something like that!

Suddenly in the midst of her reflections, Amanda awoke to the thought Where was her home? as she faced again the horrifying fact that she was married.

The reminder sent a throb of physical nausea through her body. She felt herself gag momentarily. She had almost forgotten! It was like a bad dream. There were times she almost managed to convince herself it had all never happened.

But it had! She was no longer Amanda Rutherford at all but Amanda Halifax! The very idea was revolting. It made her so sick she wanted to die.

What was she going to do? She couldn’t return to Ramsay! She could never do that either.

What was she going to do?

If only she had listened to her father’s cautions, she thought, drowsiness gradually coming over her. Maybe she was like Robinson Crusoe. The words came back into her mind from the story in Sister Gretchen’s voice—“if he ever goes abroad, he will be the most miserable wretch that ever was born.”

That was her, she thought sadly and sleepily—a miserable wretch.

Amanda felt herself starting to cry. Quickly she took a deep breath and stopped it. She wasn’t ready to collapse. It was still her father’s fault for landing her in this fix in the first place!

If only, she thought again as she had so many times, she might awake in the morning and find that it all had been a bad dream.

She closed her eyes and slowly drifted off.

Hazy images of the Devonshire countryside floated like clouds into her dreams. Something was chasing her . . . someone . . . she was running, looking back. She was trying to get to Heathersleigh before they caught her. She had to get home . . . her mother and father would help her. They would know what to do. They would protect her, hide her from the danger. She looked back again. Terror seized her. She tried to scream. But her lips were silent. The great stone Hall of her childhood was just ahead. On she ran. At last she found her voice . . . Mummy, Daddy! she cried as she went, Help me. She reached the door. It was locked! She glanced back again. Now she saw Ramsay’s face, clearly now, an evil grin of triumph on his face. “I have found you at last!” he shouted. “You are mine again, Amanda . . . mine . . . mine. You will never leave me again . . . never again.” She screamed in terrible panic and turned back and began pounding for dear life on the door . . . pounding for anyone to hear . . . anyone to help her. Help, help! she cried. Another frightened glance behind her . . . Ramsay was to the top of the drive now and coming for her. He carried a rope . . . he was going to tie her up and drag her away! Desperately she pounded. But the Hall was empty and silent. She heard the echoes of her knocks inside, but there was no one to open the door. They had waited and waited for her return, but finally could wait no longer. Now they had gone . . . they were all gone. There was no one to help her . . . she had waited too long . . . and now the Hall was silent and empty as a tomb. Mummy . . . Daddy . . . please—help me! But there was no one to hear her plea, no one to help . . . for she was alone . . . alone . . . alone. . . . Behind her Ramsay came closer, his menacing footsteps crunching on the gravel. . . .

Still whimpering and with the words Mummy and Daddy on her lips, Amanda suddenly awoke. She found herself cold, sweating, and breathing heavily in the blackness of a wintry night among the Alps of Switzerland.

Unconsciously—heart still pounding as if her knocking on Heathersleigh’s door had become the beating within her chest, and with weird images of both dream and Sister Galiana’s calf mingling in her confused brain—she glanced toward the window, almost expecting to see Ramsay’s face leering inside at her.

But it had only been a nightmare. She began to breathe more easily.

For now she was safe . . . but she felt more desolate and alone than ever.