Page 28 of The Women of Wild Hill
“You may make your home in the cottage, but you must promise the mansion will remain untouched for now. Its use will be made known in time.”
“You have my word,” Sadie agreed, sensing it would not be wise to argue.
“In nine months’ time, you will give birth to twin girls. More generations will follow. Then will come The Three. The Old One will be waiting for them.”
“What will she do with The Three?”
“Begin the end of the rule of men,” the witch told her.
That sounded quite right to Sadie.
THE FOLLOWING MORNING AT BREAKFAST,Sadie revealed that she’d had a chat with the ghost the previous night. Her husband must have known something interesting had happened in the wee hours. Sadie’s silk robe was ripped to shreds and her slippers covered in mud. There were leaves sticking out of her wild red hair. She looked absolutely ravishing.
“The spirit is quite pleasant,” Sadie announced while slathering a scone with clotted cream. Her mood had never been brighter. “And she says we can stay.”
“She’ll let us stay?” Angus replied with a snort. “How kind of her. I’m afraid she’ll have to go, though. I’ve arranged to have the old mansion knocked down. Now that I’m married, I’ve come into my inheritance. We’re going to rebuild even bigger and better.”
He might as well have hit Sadie with a sledgehammer. She’d promised the ghost that the mansion wouldn’t be touched. “Angus, you can’t tear it down!”
“What are you talking about? Of course I can,” he said.
A servant appeared in the dining room. “Pardon me, sir. The architect has arrived to inspect the grounds.”
“Thank god,” Angus said, tossing his napkin down on the table. “Did he bring workers from the village to remove those dreadful vines from the facade? I’d like to get into the mansion and see ifthere’s anything I care to salvage. My father had a magnificent art collection.”
“Yes, sir,” the servant reported. “He has the workmen with him.”
Sadie flung herself across the table to stop her husband. “Angus, don’t do this. Please! For me!”
“Tell them I’ll be with them in a moment,” Angus instructed the servant.
The pause gave Sadie enough time to rush round to his side of the table. “Angus! Please!”
He slapped her across the face. “Stop this at once. You’re hysterical.”
Sadie stopped. “What did you do? I’m your wife,” she muttered in astonishment. No one had ever hit her before.
“Yes, you are. Know your place.” Angus peered down at his wife’s dressing gown. “Don’t you dare follow me outdoors in that.”
Sadie watched in horror from the window as her husband set off across the grounds to join the architect and his workers.
“Do you feel it?” a voice asked her.
Sadie spun around to see the ghost standing behind her. “I’m sorry?”
“The power of this place. It’s inside you,” Bessie told her. “Make use of it.”
“I don’t—” Sadie started to say before she realized shecouldfeel it. It built quickly, until her body throbbed with it. Every atom buzzed. Every nerve tingled. Then the power burst forth like an orgasm, and she whooped with ecstasy.
Angus was almost to the mansion when the sky lit up. Just before she was blinded, Sadie saw her husband’s hair stand on end, his body rise into the air, and his shoes fly from his feet. Thunder boomed and Angus Campbell hit the ground. A wisp of smoke rose from his mouth, like a soul slipping free of its mortal cage. No one blamedSadie. That would be silly, of course. But she knew exactly who was responsible.
Her first act of business as Angus Campbell’s heir was to kick the architect and his men off her land. Exactly nine months later, Sadie gave birth at home. She named her twin daughters Ivy and Rose Duncan.
Ivy
Ivy and Rose were born upstairs in the caretaker’s cottage. Rose came first, making a grand entrance as would become her habit. The moment she emerged, everyone instantly fell in love with her. Ivy appeared five hours later, quiet and curious, her eyes darting about the room as though she could already see. They might have been twins—and identical, at least at first—but their mother often remarked that the heavens must have moved in the hours between their births. From the very beginning it was clear to all that the girls were nothing alike. No one ever had trouble telling the two apart. And yet, somehow, they both resembled their mother. There was no trace of Angus Campbell in either of their faces.
As soon as she and her sister learned to crawl, Ivy would head for dark places from which she could watch her loved ones unobserved. Her mother would often search for hours before discovering Ivy’s latest hiding spot. She loved to squeeze under beds and sofas—though heating vents and coal chutes would do in a pinch. She showed no fear of creepy-crawlies and befriended most of the estate’s many squirrels. She, too, liked to tuck her treasures into cracks and crevices.
