Page 84 of The Curse of Penryth Hall
“Ma… ma… mama!” Jori’s cries cut through the room.
“Your mama’s dead, my little love. That evil man killed her. But I won’t let you come to harm. No, I won’t.”
I was helpless exactly as I’d been in the dream. Watching. Powerless to do anything. Any hint of struggle risked knocking Tamsyn from the chair, likely to her death. And I couldn’t shoot Alice for risk of hitting the child. She didn’t seem to be a threat to him at the moment, but goodness only knew what she was thinking.If she’s thinking at all.There was something dreamlike about her movements. Her actions. Even her voice sounded strange and lilting. No wonder she was mistaken for a ghost.
I was out of options. I’d have to roll the dice and hope my father’s gambler luck ran through my veins as well.
I took a step closer, tucking the revolver back into the waistband of my skirt.
Alice hummed again before continuing on her song in that odd and otherworldly tone.
My blood chilled. I had to get her attention, to get her to put the boy down. “Alice? Alice, is that you?”
She turned at the sound of my voice, Jori in her arms struggling against her. His face red and angry. Wet with tears. We were all connected on a tenuous thread. One bound to break at any second as his cries grew louder and louder.
“Miss Vaughn.” She cocked her head to one side in confusion. That was something. She recognized me at least.
“He seems terribly upset, would you like me to hold him for you?” I reached out my arms.
She smiled faintly and brushed a kiss to the squalling child’s temple. “Oh, no, I lost him once. I won’t lose my little lad again. Will I, Georgie?” She nuzzled his cheek as Jori strained against her.
She’s gone mad.
Mrs. Penrose was right. Only the madwoman was not Tamsyn as I’d supposed. It was Alice. How could I have missed the clues? George was dead, likely murdered by Sir Edward, leaving his grieving mother to take justice into her own hands.
“He is a handsome lad.” I took a step closer. Sweat pricked up beneath my arms and my breasts.
“Looks like his mother. She loved him so. But that monster killed her. Like a beast he did. But I taught him.” She nuzzled the baby, who only screamed louder. “I taught him, didn’t I, Georgie?”
Somewhere deep down I knew that Alice wouldn’t harm Jori—or so I hoped. I swallowed hard, taking a step nearer.
“Don’t you think he has the look of Elizabeth?” She held the squirming boy down for my approval.
Biting my lower lip, I nodded. My mouth dry. “Yes. Yes, he does rather.”
“Have you met my sister?” Alice’s expression shifted and she tugged Jori back against her chest hard. “You’ve never met my sister, have you?”
“I—”
She turned slowly, placed the boy into the cradle, and tucked a blanket tightly around his arms. Jori’s wails grew loud enough to wake the dead.
“That’s a lad,” she murmured before turning to me, her eyes cold. Emotionless.
Perfect, now if only I could get her a little farther away from the cradle.
She stalked across the room, the white robe billowing around her with each achingly slow step. She shifted slightly, and a sharp curved knife appeared in her hand. “He has her eyes, doesn’t he? Her beautiful brown eyes. Look. Look at my Georgie. Doesn’t he have the loveliest brown eyes?”
I hadn’t a clue what color the child’s eyes were as I’d only seen him a time or two and never paid it much mind. I wet my lips, stepped closer to the cradle, and made one strategic error that any heroine in one of Mr. Owen’s prized collection of gothic novels would never ever do—I turned my back on a madwoman. Within an instant she had that same curved blade at my throat.
“Elizabeth, you see, had blue eyes.” Her voice was hot and damp as she hissed into my ear.
“I knew that. I was only—”
The blade pressed tight against my skin. A trickle of blood ran down my clavicle. If I were the praying sort, I might have said one—but instead I held my breath.
“And here you’ve come to take him too. Everyone trying to take my Georgie from me.” Alice pulled me toward the window, ripping back the curtains, flooding the room with midday sun while Tamsyn stood helplessly on the chair.
This was how we’d die. The two of us stared at each other in disbelief that somehow this was how our story would end. And I couldn’t help but regret all the thousands of things that went unsaid between us, and the thousand more terrible ones said.
