Immortal (18 page)

Sophie glanced sideways at me. After a long pause she said, “Celeste hasn’t been very nice to you, has she? None of us have.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Sophie sniffed and wiped her face on her sleeve.

“It’s just that she really loved Laura. You wouldn’t think that Celeste would be that emotional, but they were like sisters.”

“Oh.”

She raised her eyes to mine. “I think love is the most important thing in the world, don’t you?”

“Umm.”

“I’ve got a puppy at home. He loves me. I miss him.”

She huddled in the rain and fell silent. I had written her off as a dumb snob, and now I saw that she was just sad: packed off to boarding school by distant parents, clinging on to Celeste for friendship, missing her dog like a child would miss her teddy bear. But her trite words had opened my eyes like a profound revelation.

Love is the most important thing in the world.

I saw then that there was no point trying to dig up the past. I had allowed myself to be sidetracked by my imagination, searching for things that couldn’t possibly be there, and all the time I had been turning my back on something real. Lady Agnes, the portrait, the people at the old farm—none of that mattered compared to how I felt about Sebastian.

Sitting on that damp hillside, I finally admitted to myself that I loved him. And I couldn’t turn my back on him now, whatever I had promised Sarah. Love was the most important thing. I couldn’t allow a silly fight, or neurotic visions, to destroy it.

Stay away from him,
the girl in white had said. But I knew that I couldn’t. I needed to see Sebastian again. I had to find out whether there was something real between us. And if there was, I would hold on to it and never let it go.

Thirty-two

THE JOURNAL OF LADY AGNES, APRIL

15, 1883
How could I have let him go so easily? How did I get onto that train to London and leave him behind?

When I first came here I had to put all my efforts into finding a way to carry on living; simply to feed and clothe myself and keep off the streets was an effort. My work seems to please Mr. Carley and I am making just enough money to survive. Now that I can look beyond the basics of survival, I am desperately unhappy. Without love, life is mere existence.

Yesterday I walked by the river. It is not like our bright streams at home, but a stinking, sluggish tide wrapped in fogs and foul stenches.
How easy it would be, I thought, to fall into its depths and let it swallow me up….

I came back to my lodging feeling sick and exhausted. As soon as I reached my room I bolted the door, shut the blinds, and drew the Circle, whispering the incantations as low as I could. It was the first time I had allowed myself to indulge in the Mysteries since arriving in the city, and it was for one purpose only: to see the faces of those I love.

The bright, cool flames sprang up, red and gold and white, like hothouse flowers. I cut them with a silver knife, carving his name on the air. Then the flames sank low, and in their gleaming heart I saw an image of my beloved, so far away. His face was full of pain and fever, and as he spoke my name he cursed me. Then I cast my mind to my parents’ house and saw them too as tiny images in the flames, holding on to each other and weeping.

A wave of fury swept through me. Sparks shot from the Circle, and I created a whirlwind of phantoms; stars and planets seemed to spin above my head, waterfalls of light crashed to the ground from my outstretched hands, and a legion of fantastical creatures leaped around me: bronzed tigers and shimmering peacocks and galloping horses, all burnished with fire. I cried out in my mind to the Powers,
How is it that I can summon such wonders, yet I cannot be with those I love? Why have I been forced to cause them pain? Why was I chosen for this?

There was no answer. I flung myself to the floor in despair and broke the Circle. The lights and flames vanished, and I was left shivering in the dark, as tense and wary as a stricken animal. In that moment I would have done anything to go back to him.

I know now that I will never marry or have children. But if I had been lucky enough to have a daughter, I would have told her that if she found love, she should hold on to it and never let it go.

Thirty-three

T

his is the moment. I am wide awake, tense and wary like an animal.

As soon as I am sure that the others are asleep, I fly down the familiar servants’ staircase, not caring about the dark. I think only about seeing Sebastian again. I pray that he hasn’t got tired of waiting for me night after night. I have to see him. I have to find out. Everything else has been leading to this moment. Now I will know the truth.

The great house around me is unnaturally quiet, as though everyone has fallen into an enchanted sleep, even the mice. I fumble with the fastening of the door into the stable yard. I am outside. The sky is clear and dark, thickly spread with hard, cold stars. Everything is still. Time has stopped. I begin to run. In my hurry I have forgotten to put on any shoes, and my feet sink into the damp grass. The ruins loom up ahead: so still, so dark. The lake glimmers. An owl screeches from the broken arches of the chapel. Sebastian said he would wait.

I listen and look, straining every nerve. There is no one there. So now I know.

It is over.

I mean nothing to Sebastian. I’m just another idiotic girl swept away by a handsome face. My breath is coming in quick gasps. My heart is beating so hard that it hurts. Then I see him, slumped against a low wall in the shadows.

“Evie?” He staggers to his feet. I fly over to him, and he folds me in his arms. We cling to each other without speaking; then he pulls away.

“Oh, Evie, I’m so sorry. I thought I would never see you again.”

“It’s all right, it’s all right. I’m sorry too; it was my fault.”

“No! Don’t say that. I want to explain—”

“It doesn’t matter; it’s not important.” I look into his face. He is unnaturally pale and gaunt. Fear cuts through me. “Sebastian, what’s wrong? You look terrible. Are you ill?”

“It’s not important.” He coughs wearily. “Listen, all that stuff about meeting my parents. I should have told you the truth. My parents are dead. There is no one to meet. I’m on my own.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you…feeling sorry for me.” A glint of pride flashes over his face. “It was stupid. Please forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive. I was stupid too. I’ve missed you so much.”

“Have you?” he says eagerly, hungrily. “Oh, Evie, I haven’t even felt alive without you.”

“Well, I’m here now,” I reply, hugging him tight. He looks so haggard and sick that I just want to take all his pain away. “I’ll make you better. I’ll never walk out on you again. Don’t worry; I’m here.”

He smiles like a fragile, wasted angel.

“Yes, you’re here. Let’s celebrate. What shall we do?”

“What do you suggest?” I laugh softly. “A picnic? Going to the movies? We don’t have a lot of choices.”

Sebastian’s eyes gleam. “I know what I want to do. Let’s swim in the lake together. We can pretend it’s your wild sea. Would you like that?”

“But you’re not well, and it’s cold….”

He touches a strand of my hair, as he had done when we had first met. I feel myself weakening.

“I don’t care,” he says, his eyes searching my face as if trying to memorize me.

“And I haven’t got a bathing suit.” Though I know that I can’t resist.

Slowly Sebastian reaches out and unties my robe, letting it fall onto the wet grass. The cold air bites through my nightgown. I unfasten Frankie’s necklace and drop it onto the crumpled robe.

“What’s that?” he asks, glancing down carelessly.

“My grandmother’s necklace. I don’t want to get it wet.”

He laughs, kind and tender. “You’re always so sensible, Evie, even when you are swimming in a forbidden lake in the middle of the night.” Then he pulls off his coat and his loose shirt. His arms and chest gleam like pale stone against his dark riding breeches. “Are you ready?” he whispers. He catches me up in his arms, as if I were a bride being carried across the threshold, and wades into the silent waters of the lake.

Its dark ripples spread out as we swim side by side. Then our hands touch, our eyes meet, and our limbs twine like clinging ivy. Our mouths reach for each other. In that moment a flash like an electric charge scorches through me. I gasp and swallow some water. I am being pulled under the surface. Panic grips me, and I can’t remember how to swim. I’m no longer myself—I am Laura, choking with terror in the muddy waters of the lake.

Something—someone—is clutching me, dragging me down. I plunge deep below the surface of the lake. I’m surrounded by a ring of white faces hooded in dark robes: terrifying, monstrous women reaching toward me. They are screaming, calling out a name that rings through my head:
“Sebastian! Sebastian!”
Then another voice cries
“Evie, Evie…”

It is my mother. I’ve never heard that voice before, but I know instinctively that it is her. With my last strength I kick out and reach the surface, struggling to break free.

“Evie! Evie!” This time it is Sebastian calling me. I am in his arms on the smooth grass by the side of the lake, retching and shivering. I push him away and lash out with my fists.

“Don’t,” he soothes. “Don’t, Evie. You’re all right now.”

“Stay away from me; don’t touch me!”

“What are you talking about? Evie, it’s me, Sebastian.”

I burst into dry, racking sobs.

“I…I saw them. I…saw those women.”

“What? What did you see?”

I look straight into those angel eyes. Was this what the redheaded girl was trying to warn me about?

“Those women. They were trying to kill me. And they were calling your name.”

He looks startled, afraid even; then his face hardens.

“There was no one there, Evie. And I won’t let anyone hurt you. You’ve got to believe that.”

“But they were there, under the water!”

“You just got a cramp and panicked.”

“It’s not just that,” I rush on. “I’ve been seeing other things, people I don’t know, hearing voices, imagining all kinds of stuff. I thought I could ignore it, but I think I’m going crazy.”

“You’re not, Evie; you’re good and true and beautiful, and I won’t let this place hurt you. I’ll take care of you, I swear.” He pulls me close to him, as though he will never let me go, and says, “I love you.”

Everything else falls away. I am still, more still than I have ever been in my whole life. The world is no longer a terrifying place. I am not alone. Sebastian loves me. Nothing is more important than that. He begins to stroke my face and hair. “Stay with me, Evie. I want you to be with me—forever.”

He lifts me up lightly and easily and carries me away from the lake. I cling to his neck and breathe in the smell of his damp skin. I want to call out to the hills, to the trees and the stars:
I love, I love, I love him, like the endless song of the sea.

This is the moment.

He walks under the broken arches of the chapel and sets me down amid the deep and silent shadows. Through the roofless vault above me, I see the stars crown Sebastian’s head with cold white fire as he leans over to kiss me at last.

It is joy, pure joy. We kiss again and again, then we open our eyes and gaze in wonder at the miracle of each other. And one by one the stars blink and are gone, and the birds begin to sing.

Thirty-four

I

floated down to breakfast the next day. I wanted to run instead of walk, to fly instead of run. Every doubt and fear had vanished. I had never been so happy in all my life.

“Here, this is for you.” Sophie was standing by the table, helping to set out the morning mail. Since Celeste’s accident she had been determinedly friendly.

“Thanks, Sophie.” I took the letter eagerly, hoping it was from Sebastian, but the envelope she handed me was addressed to
Miss Evelyn Johnson
in unfamiliar handwriting. A printed crest on the back of the envelope said,
Beechwood Nursing Home.

“I hope it’s not more bad news,” Sophie said, her lip trembling slightly. “Did you hear that Celeste has broken her leg really badly? She’s not coming back to school for ages.”

“Oh—I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Poor Celeste.”

“Yeah. Well, see you later, Sophie.”

I hurried away, unwilling to open the letter somehow. Bad news, Sophie had said. I couldn’t bear to get any bad news about Frankie. I didn’t want anything to spoil my happiness about Sebastian.

By the time the midmorning break arrived, I was ashamed of my cowardice. I was being totally selfish. Of course I wanted to hear how Frankie was getting on. It might even be a letter from Frankie herself, back to normal, just like the old days. I decided to go outside to read it in private.

“Hey,” said Sarah, coming up to me as I headed for the door. “Do you want to go down to the stables for a bit?”

“Sure.”

I felt guilty that I had broken my promise to her not to see Sebastian. I would have to try to explain, but not yet.

“I’ve got a letter,” I said with false brightness, pulling it out of my pocket. “It might be good news about Frankie.”

“Okay. I’ll go and see to the ponies and leave you to read it.”

I sat on a low bench outside the tack room. Inside the envelope was a note, and folded with it was a piece of yellowing paper. As I read them both, the blood seemed to sing in my head.

“Sarah! Sarah!”

She came running over from the other side of the yard.

“What’s the matter? What happened?”

I couldn’t answer. I just handed her the note. She sat down on the bench and began to read.

Dear Evelyn,

You don’t know me, but I am one of the nurses who cares for your grandmother here at Beechwood. We are all very fond of her. Last week she seemed to be doing quite a lot better. She managed to indicate that she wanted this enclosed document to be sent to you. I asked the manager if that was all right, and she gave me your address at the boarding school. You’re very lucky to be there, aren’t you? But I forgot to mail it, because the next day your grandmother had a bad turn again. I am sure your father has been keeping you up-to-date. She is stable now, though I am not sure if she knows what is going on around her. It’s a shame, but you mustn’t be sad, as we are all doing our best for her, and I am sure she will be better soon.