In Love by Christmas: A Paranormal Romance (35 page)

47

Getting to Know You

W
hen Leroy awakened,
the clock said almost 3:30 in the afternoon. What did she put in that drink? He found new clothes, just his size, laid on the other bed. He was starving.

“Come into the kitchen. Your breakfast is waiting for you.” The raspy old-lady’s voice from the plane came from a speaker on the wall.

He wanted to ask her about Cass, but she scared him.

“Mrs. Naughton is outside your door. She will escort you to the kitchen.”

He walked into a huge room so different from the rest of the house that
it
almost scared him. Light and bright, a wall of windows and glass French doors led to a brilliant garden massed with flowers. The room was paneled in a very pale wood with no creepy carvings. Sofas and chairs were arranged at the far end of the room. Closer was a dining table for a very large family. All of it was as of a quality as fine as the homes he’d seen in Europe. A contemporary and cultured person lived here. A wealthy one.

“Well, Mr. Watches, I’m glad y’ saw fit to wake up. My scones would not have lasted much longer.” A voice startled him.

Turning to the left and beyond a short wall, he found a magnificent kitchen. It was one of those kitchens that had so many appliances and gadgets that he gave up rather than trying to master even their names.

“That’s right. Take a good look at the AGA range. Worth its weight in gold. I’m Mrs. Cook, Dr. Schierman’s cook.” She tittered. “Seems strange, but that’s how my name worked out. Same as for Driver, the chauffeur. And Butler, the butler.

“You take this.” She handed him a huge plate. “I just made this for y’. You’re a big eater, and I made you a big breakfast.”

An omelet the way he liked it, bacon and ham, both. Biscuits, pastries. A bowl of fruit salad and fresh orange juice.

For a moment, thoughts about Cass drifted to the rear of his awareness and the needs of a big man who hadn’t eaten in a long time came forth.

“That’s what I like to see,” Mrs. Cook said smiling. “A man with a healthy appetite.”

“Where’s Cass?”

Mrs. Cook sucked in a breath. “Well, I’ll let Dr. Schierman tell you. She’s out in the sun room in the garden.” She pointed at an ornate glass and iron structure that could have come from Lord Ballentyne’s country home in England. “She’s there, waiting for you.”

He knocked on the glass door. A gaunt woman a few years short of ancient looked up. “Come in, Leroy. I’m Vanessa Schierman.” He stepped over the threshold into yet another world. The light and airy gazebo was furnished with big cushy sofas and chairs. And more plants than a jungle.

The old lady was like a crow, dressed in black. Her head jutted forward and to the side alarmingly.

“I’d like you to meet someone.” She waved at the settee.

He could see a slim woman with dark hair sitting on a sofa with her back to him. It wasn’t Cass. As desperately hurt as Cass was, she couldn’t sit with that ease even if a miracle occurred. He walked toward her, wondering what was going on.

When he rounded the end of the couch, the lady stood up and offered her hand, smiling. “How do you do, Mr. Watches? Grammie has told me a great deal about you.” Blue eyes, straight dark hair, and fine, pale skin. She wasn’t a beauty, but she was a very pretty young girl. The strength of her features pointed at the beauty she would be when grown. As she was, she seemed more approachable than a beauty would be.

It was Cass. She was about thirteen years old.

He fell against a big chair and plopped down, unable to move. Or anything.

“My name is Ashley Duane. I should have told you that.” She leaned forward. “Are you all right?”

He tried to say something and choked.

“Here, Mr. Watches, have some water.” The old lady’s eyes rolled in their sockets as she turned and poured water from a pitcher. Her neck was bent so far over, it looked as though her head must have been broken off and then reattached. She was a witch for sure. What had she done to Cass?

“I’m Vanessa Schierman. Dr. Schierman. I will be your hostess for a while,” she said to Leroy. He kept blinking.

“Oh, you’re staying here too?” Ashley said. “Grammie says you ride horses and do all sorts of things. I was getting worried about being bored here. There aren’t any young people. Grammie and I decided that I would stay here this summer while Mommy is in Spain. I really didn’t want to go.” She made a face. “So Grammie said that I could stay. Daddy said it was OK too.” Ashley smiled, a charming, upper–class adolescent, poised and well spoken. “My parents have known Grammie forever, by the way. They’d
never
leave me with someone they didn’t know well.”

The old lady cracked a very unnerving smile. “Yes, Will and I are dearest friends. Have been forever. And Ashley is one of ‘my girls.’ She’d live here if I had my way.”

Ashley smiled angelically.

His soul mate was barely a teenager.

“May I talk to you?” he asked the witch.

“Certainly, my dear. We will talk at length. But not now. Why don’t you get acquainted with Ashley?” She got up and left the gazebo.

“Huh. How are you?” he stammered.

“I’m very well, thank you. And you?”

“I’m very well. How long have you been here?”

“I got here last night. I fell asleep. I don’t remember the drive up here. I’m so glad I don’t have to go to Spain. Mommy left today.” Her mouth grew tight when she mentioned her mother.

Leroy got it as a flash. This was Cass before she went to Spain and was destroyed by Enzo Donatore. The old lady had somehow taken her back to the way she was before any of the terrible things happened to her. But how did she do it?

“Do you know your way around here? I got here late last night, too. I haven’t seen anything.”

“I’ll show you the estate. What do you want to see?” Ashley said.

“Everything.”

“The front is creepy. Grammie keeps it that way to scare off strangers.” Ashley whispered. “It’s because of her children. She doesn’t want people to gawk at them or make fun of them.”

“Oh.” He raised his eyebrows.

She leaned closer and whispered, “They’re all mentally ill. It’s so sad. It was from a genetic problem with her and her husband. He died a long time ago. You see Grammie’s children out here sometimes.” They were walking along a cement path with brilliant green grass on both sides. “They’re with their caretakers or in wheelchairs. Don’t be afraid of them. They’re not dangerous. Except Louis. He might be, but they keep him medicated.”

“The hospital is right there,” she indicated a warm and welcoming stucco building with lots of windows on the path ahead of them. “She has a whole hospital, with psychiatrists and doctors and medicines. If you ever get sick, you’re all set. Grammie takes
very
good care of everyone.”

“Is she your grandmother?”

“Oh, no. My real grandparents have passed away, all of them. She has several girls like me. She calls us ‘my girls.’ Alexandra vander Zandt, me, and Rosalind Roberoy. She loves us and takes care of us. Some people
say
they care for you, but then they hurt you terribly. But not Grammie.” She furrowed her brow and sucked in her breath, looking troubled. Ashley turned to another topic.

“Would you like to see the barn? It’s over a hundred years old. Grammie’s ancestors were the first white people here. They took the land from the Indians.” She gasped. “Oh. You’re an Indian. I’m sorry.”

“That’s all right. I’ve heard worse.”

They walked along another path for a while. Leroy had to ask. “Ashley,” the name sounded strange in his mouth, “When I came in last night, it seemed like the carvings on the walls and in the house were moving. Have you seen them do that?”

She laughed. “Oh, yes. It’s another way Grammie keeps strangers away. The scary house and moving statues. Creepy stuff. She’s got really nasty dogs, but they’re nice when they know you. Even the way she dresses is to scare people. She wants people to think she’s a witch. She’s not. She’s a wonderful person.”

“How does she do it? I felt those carvings this morning: they’re regular wood and stone.”

Ashley moved closer and whispered, “I think it’s very well done special effects. Like from Hollywood.”

“Like in movies?”

“Yes. I know having them made would cost a lot of money, but Grammie has a lot of money. Almost as much as we do.” She blushed, having mentioned money. Leroy knew from his time in England and Europe that money was one thing rich people never mentioned. “But if you go to the back of the estate, things are normal. Like the barn.”

Leroy looked up, his breath whisked away by the structure. It was an ancient wood barn with carved teak beams. It soared above his head. The huge structure sat a little way from the forest that flanked the lawns. It was old, and full of power. Life force. Any animal living there would be healthy. The place was beautiful, and bewitched.

“The paddocks and pastures are out in the back.” They walked through the barn. A stunning vista of manicured fences, corrals with lush grass, and large pastures out the back greeted them. There weren’t too many horses. They were Thoroughbreds and sport horses. Jumping horses.

“Grammie used to have lots of horses. She bred them. But when she had her accident—that’s why her head looks like that. She broke her neck fox hunting a long time ago. They couldn’t fix it back then; they didn’t know how. So she looks like that.”

Ashley walked up to a dark horse in the nearest paddock. “Come on, Bailey, come to me.” Bailey did. She petted the horse’s face. “This is my horse. I keep him here because Daddy didn’t like him at home.” He could see sadness wash over her.

“Why not? He looks like a nice horse.” Leroy stroked the horse’s dark bay neck. He wondered what had happened to the mare Kathryn Duane had given Ashley. And old Lightning. Probably stuck in quarantine, if they had even left England.

“Because he’s not a show horse. He’s just a nice horse. Daddy has to win in everything he does and be the best. He wants me to ride jumping horses in shows. I’ve done it, but it scares me. Daddy says, ‘If I gave in to fear, Ashley, I’d never have gotten anywhere. You have to face fear or you’ll be nothing.’ The show horses live at our house. My jumpers and Mommy’s Andalusians. She shows those, or the trainers do. It’s like always … Mommy …” She stopped speaking. Ashley’s face contorted. She turned away from him, and took off, running.

She ran along a path toward a stand of tall evergreen trees. He caught up with her easily. “What’s the matter, Ashley?” Her cheeks were streaked with tears.

“I’m such a baby. I didn’t want you to see me cry.” She wiped her face with the back of her hand. “I’m almost fourteen years old and I’m crying in front of you. I don’t even know you.”

She looked like she wanted to bolt again, so he said, “Stay, Ashley.” He put some power in his voice and she did what he wanted. “Let’s walk over here and sit on that bench. You can tell me all about it. Pretend I’m your cousin. Cousin Leroy.”

She smiled, a quick little smile. “You seem like a cousin already. I don’t have any real cousins. Daddy had two sisters, but they died. Mommy was like me, alone.”

“I’m alone too. My parents just had me. Then my mom died.”

“Oh, that’s sad. How old were you?”

“Six. Things got worse after my mom died. My father started drinking. And then he beat me.”

“He
beat
you! That’s terrible!”

“He only beat me the once. My grandpa came with some men from the reservation and took me. I didn’t see my dad for fourteen years. Now tell me why you were crying.” Another little jolt of power and she spoke freely.

Ashley sat upright, working her hands in her lap. “It’s everything. Daddy has to have his way all the time. He doesn’t listen when I say I don’t want to be in horse shows. Or lots of things. I don’t want to go to boarding school. They’re sending me to one next year for high school. Why do I have to go to a boarding school that’s twenty minutes from our house?” Tears tracked down her cheeks. She wiped at them furiously. “I know why they want to send me away. They don’t like me.” Her chest heaved.

Leroy resisted holding her. But he felt for her. She was a sad, lonely little girl, even before all of Donatore’s abuse.

“My daddy has affairs. Do you know what that means?” Leroy nodded. “Daddy does that all the time. He comes home every three days. He has condos everywhere where he can go with
women
. He pretends that Mommy and I don’t know, but we do.

“I’m never going to have sex.” Those lightning bolt eyes hitting him again. “Have you had sex?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“That’s good. If you don’t have sex, you can’t have an
affair
and hurt your family.” Her voice rose. “Do you know that people in my class have
sex?
Girls my age. With boys that they don’t even love. They told me all about it. It’s disgusting.

He wanted to touch her, but his better sense told him, no.

“And my mommy. I’m so worried about her. I didn’t want her to go to Spain.” Ashley peered into his face as though searching for permission. “Can I talk to you about something really bad? Worse than what I’ve said?”