Bird (8 page)

“Your first flight, miss.”

12

I
awoke to a world of wind and sand, the smell of fresh air and dampness, a lingering memory of flight.

I was not in my own bed, or in the captain’s study, but bundled in a blanket on the beach close to a smoldering fire.

Farley and I had spent the whole glorious day at the lakeside, and when the sun began to set, I could not bear to think of returning to the oppressive walls of the Manor. At Farley’s suggestion, we built a fire and fell asleep talking of the wings.

I had so desperately wanted to tell him of the uneasy feeling that each day grew larger within me, of the sense that I could almost put my finger upon the whole truth of the Manor, the fortune, and the captain’s death, only to find that the closer I came, the more quickly it scurried away and eluded me. I had hoped that with his help, in the open air away from the Manor, I could make sense of the puzzling stories that swirled within me, but I found I could not. For, more than I desired to lighten my own burden, I wished not to entangle Farley in the Manor’s web of lies.

“It’s morning, miss,” Farley said, shaking me fully awake. “Will you see to the Hounds?” Though we had secured the kites before falling asleep, the Hounds had been given their freedom and were now somewhere above the cliffs, barking and creating a ruckus.

“Yes, I’ll see to them.” I brushed the sand from my face, stood up and untied the twine from around my waist. I had slept in my coat and boots. As well, Farley had secured me fast to one of the boulders so I would not blow away in the night.

“You’ll be back soon?” he asked.

“Of course. I’ll feed the Hounds and bring us some breakfast. When I return, will we work on the wings again?”

Farley smiled. “Indeed we will. Perhaps today I can make sense of them.”

I ran to the top of the cliffs, my heart lightened by the promise of spending another day in the open air with Farley. All thoughts of his departure and the dilemma I faced temporarily faded from my mind and were replaced by the hope that today we might come closer to unraveling the mystery of the kites. I found the Hounds, barking not at a rabbit or squirrel as I had suspected, but at Dr. Mead, who stood at the entrance to the Manor, keeping his distance from their strong jaws.

“So you are here,” he said, clearly relieved. He looked as if he had not slept well in many nights. Dark circles ringed his eyes, and his usually well-groomed hair was swept about by the wind. “I did not see the lantern last night and grew concerned for your welfare.”

The lantern. I had forgotten entirely about lighting it. “I’m sorry to have caused you worry, Doctor. It was such a lovely evening that I built a fire on the beach and fell asleep beside it. I have only just now woken.” I felt more guarded in my speech than I had been with Dr. Mead on his previous visits. I kept looking into his eyes for some clue as to his intentions, but he appeared only tired and distracted. Still, the nurse’s words would not leave me.
I do not know what he realizes, nor what he covets. . . .

“Then you are fine?”

“Yes, sir, I am fine. The weather has broken and I was drawn outside to the fresh air, that is all.” I did not wish to divulge Farley’s presence. Dr. Mead might find it improper and forbid me to stay on my own.

He nodded, eyeing me with curiosity. “I have come with news. You are not to remain alone much longer. Mrs. Barrows is on the mend. She requires little more attention at St. Elias’s and wishes to return here.”

“When, sir?”

“Two days hence. I will bring her myself in the evening.”

“Two days?” I could not keep the shock from my voice.

“Do these arrangements not please you?”

How could I tell him that no arrangements would please me, except that I stay with Farley? In the month of Wysteria’s absence, my life had changed. I had a friend, the first in my life. I could take to the wind with his help and see a future apart from the Manor. I knew that I could not remain on my own forever, but I also could not see myself living with Wysteria, for I found that my trust in her was rapidly waning.

“Does this not please you?” the doctor repeated.

“No. I am, of course, greatly pleased by Wysteria’s recovery. I just . . .” I reached into my pocket and rolled the small glass bottle worriedly against my palm.

“What is it you have there?” Dr. Mead inquired, gesturing to my pocket.

I hesitated. I had suspected that the writing on the bottle might be his, but I was not certain. Perhaps all doctors wrote in a similar hand. Yet if anyone might be able to explain its contents to me, it would be Dr. Mead. I pulled it from my pocket and handed it to him.

The doctor removed his glasses and held the bottle up to the light.

“Laudanum,” he whispered, reading the scrawl with no effort.

“What is laudanum, sir?”

The doctor’s face flushed. He appeared suddenly alarmed, as if the bottle in his hand contained some terrible memory he wished to expunge, but then he quickly cleared his throat and composed himself.

“A sedative. Not harmful when used in its proper dosage. Where did you find this?”

“In Wysteria’s bedchamber. I was looking for her keys when I came upon it. There were more bottles. All empty, with the exception of this one.”

The doctor sighed.

“Why would she have this, sir?”

“I prescribed this for the captain many years ago, at Mrs. Barrows’s request. She was concerned that her husband was not sleeping well, so I encouraged her to give him this tincture in small doses. Apparently she used it for purposes other than for what it was intended.”

“Why would my name be on this bottle?”

“I do not know. Several more bottles, you say? Do they look as if they’ve been there a long time?”

“Yes, sir. But for this one, all were covered in dust.”

Dr. Mead held the bottle tightly in his hand and walked to the cliff’s edge. He ran his fingers through his hair. I thought for a moment he might cast the bottle out into the lake, but he did not. Instead he turned to me.

“You need not fear, young lady. Mrs. Barrows will receive no more bottles of laudanum or anything else from me.” He slipped it into his pocket.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Now, I must ask you a favor before I depart.”

I cringed, for I knew what this favor was and I did not wish to grant it.

“As I mentioned to you, the captain once told me of a secret within the Manor, and I have spent these many years wondering if indeed there was such a thing. The last few nights, I have pondered where it might be. If I might have one more opportunity to look about the captain’s study before Mrs. Barrows returns, I may very well discover it.”

“Do you think it wise, sir?” Honoring Miss Moreland’s plea to refuse him entrance seemed the best recourse, yet I knew, from the urgency of his manner, that the only answer he would accept from me would be yes.

“I ask only for a few moments of your time.”

Though I was apprehensive, I felt I had no choice and so agreed and led the doctor into the Manor and up to the captain’s study. I let the Hounds in with us but bade them stay on the main floor. Once inside the study, I closed the door and walked immediately over to the window, where I could see Farley on the beach below. Just to be safe, I stood with my back to the window to prevent the doctor from detecting Farley’s presence, but I need not have feared, for the moment the doctor entered the room, his focus became singular, and he began systematically searching through drawers and cupboards. I watched him grow more and more agitated as he failed to uncover what he sought, and an intense fear came over me, especially as he neared the bookcase. What if he pressed heavily upon it and found the entrance to the attic? There was nothing left inside it but some bolts of silk, the paper-making device and an old mortar and pestle, yet I could not shake the ever-increasing sense of dread that seemed to be filling the room as his search became more furious.

“I cannot understand where it could be,” he mumbled to himself.

“I know that Wysteria had the Manor thoroughly searched after the captain’s death,” I volunteered, “but no trace of a treasure was found, if that is what you seek.” He seemed not to hear my words but continued speaking, and as he did so, riffled through the maps and papers on the captain’s desk.

“The captain was a creative genius. His mind did not work like that of ordinary men. He took pleasure in riddles and complicated outcomes.”

“I’m sorry, but I do not know how to help you, sir.”

“Don’t you?” The doctor suddenly turned on me. “A smart girl like you? You must know more than you are telling. You must have a secret that you will not confide.” I shook my head, taken aback by his sudden anger.

“Tell me, or by God I’ll shake it out of you.” The doctor lunged forward, grabbing me violently by the shoulders, almost lifting me off the ground. My legs began to tremble and I felt myself on the verge of crying, but I could not allow it. I must remain calm. The Manor had surely taken hold of the doctor, as Miss Moreland had predicted, for he was now clearly out of his head.

“No, sir. I promise you,” I said, my voice shaking. “I harbor no secrets to help you in your quest. There is nothing I know of in this room of any value.” Even as I uttered these words I began to fear that what the doctor wanted was somehow connected to the kites, though what value they would hold for him, I did not know.

He gripped me more tightly. I wanted to scream for Farley, but I knew he could not hear me.

“You meddlesome child. Why do you stand in the way of what is due me? Why must there always be something in the way? I wish only to claim what is rightfully mine and once belonged to my family.” He grasped me ever more tightly.

“Please, sir, you’re hurting me!” At that moment, there was a bump against the door and the doctor immediately released his hold. In my fright, I sank to the floor, my legs no longer able to bear my weight.

“Are we not alone in this house?” he asked, a look of terror flashing across his face. I could see that the stories of the Manor had pervaded his imagination and he believed it possible that a spirit now lay on the other side of the door.

I could not speak but found the strength to rise to my knees, reach over and quickly free the latch before the doctor could stop me.

On the threshold stood the Hounds, all four of them, the fur on their necks straight along their spines. A low growl began to emerge from the throat of one, and the others followed suit.

The doctor froze in fear. I recovered my courage, stood and walked to the doorway, securing my position amid my guardians. I did not stop them from growling, but held my hand out to keep them still.

“I do not know what came over me . . . ,” the doctor said, running his hand through his hair. “I apologize, young lady. I must . . .”

“You must leave the Manor, sir,” I said firmly, stepping aside. “I fear it has a bad effect upon you.”

“Yes. Yes, you are right, of course.” The Hounds and I followed him downstairs. I had seen with my own eyes the Manor’s pull upon the doctor and did not trust him to be free of its menace until he was safely outside its doors. I wished him to leave as soon as possible.

“It is time for you to be on your way, Dr. Mead. Your horse is waiting at the gate.” I pointed it out to him. He seemed dazed and exhausted, yet he followed my advice without delay.

“Thank you,” he said. He began walking away, then turned.

“Shall I expect the light tonight?”

“Yes, Dr. Mead. Tonight and tomorrow as well.”

“I . . .” But his words fell away from him.

“Good day, Dr. Mead.”

I made sure the doctor’s horse had rounded the bend, and the Hounds had returned to the beach, before I went back inside the Manor. I headed directly to the captain’s study, for there was something I desperately needed to know. I pulled out a heavy leather-bound dictionary from the captain’s bookshelf and looked up

Had Wysteria given the captain the laudanum to make him docile and forget about selling the Manor, or had she given him too much, as the doctor implied, causing him to go mad, to hallucinate, to perhaps think he could fly? Dr. Mead had prescribed the laudanum to the captain but I knew he had not intended it to be misused. Miss Moreland had been right. The doctor was not a bad man, only susceptible to the Manor, as so many others had been.

I closed the book. But what of the bottle reserved for me? Did Wysteria anticipate that one day I, too, would challenge her authority or ask too many questions? Did she intend to keep me docile or do away with me, as she had her husband? For I felt with certainty that she was capable of doing so. I knew enough now. I had to heed Miss Moreland’s words and leave as soon as I was able. Dr. Mead could no longer manage himself in regard to the Manor. Any trust I had placed in him was now gone.

My only hope lay with Farley and the wings. We had two days. Surely in that time Farley would understand how to build them. Surely we would find a way, for my situation had grown dire. I must leave the Manor before Wysteria returned. I must go far away. Very far away.