The Mirk and Midnight Hour (34 page)

Tumbles from trees and accidents with rifles—the events of the past weeks with Seeley took on a new, sinister quality as I replayed them in my mind. Dorian had been so cunning, playing the frivolous, heedless young man, making a show of his kindness to Seeley, while all the while plotting and calculating. How had I been so dense? He had troubled me, but I had thought it was only because of his falseness to Sunny.

With daylight, now that my younger cousin was out of danger and the VanZeldts were gone, came the realization that I must address my older cousin’s villainy. As I sat beside sleeping Seeley, so innocent, so vulnerable, my reflections were chaotic. Bewilderment, horror, and outrage were all compounded with exhaustion. How could anyone be so evil as to try to harm this child? If Sunny had not told me what she’d done, we would probably be washing Seeley for burial right now. I shuddered.

Sunny.
What about Sunny?

When Laney poked her head inside to check on us, I asked her
to stay with Seeley so I could talk to my stepsister. I found Sunny huddled in one of the rockers on the front porch, her face pinched and white, her hands limp in her lap.

“Are you watching for Dorian?” I asked.

She didn’t answer. Instead she said, “Is Seeley still all right?” in a voice that sounded dead.

“Yes.” I dropped into another rocker beside her. “It was all Dorian’s scheme, I know, but, Sunny, how could you?”

She gave a boneless shrug. “Dorian is so persuasive and I wanted him so badly. Somehow it was as if I were watching someone else do what I did. Someone else pouring in the powder. I didn’t want it to happen. I never really believed anything
would
happen. Could happen. Dorian said he’d only be ill.”

I didn’t speak for a moment because of the hot red rage that clogged my throat. It wasn’t directed at Sunny. It was at Dorian. Those weeks of whispering into Sunny’s ears, niggling into her mind, pressing and pushing until her weaker nature gave in. It was surprising she’d held out as long as she had. My voice shook when I finally spoke. “Dorian is a liar. He does have a powerful personality. I understand that. But you’re not five years old, Sunny. You know what an
awful
thing it was! You did make a choice and you’re going to have to accept what you almost brought about.”

Her trembling hands covered her face. In a shivering rush of breath, she cried, “I know I will! I know it! How could I ever forget?”

I patted her shoulder. “Thank goodness Seeley’s going to be all right. And you’ll be punished enough without the law knowing about you. Dorian is another story. Michael needs to go for the marshal.”

Sunny’s arms dropped. “No!” she cried so violently that I started. “You’re not turning him in. You can’t do that to us. To your own family. He—Dorian’s not a bad person. It was just wanting Panola so desperately and wishing to be able to marry me soon that drove him to it.”

“You can’t expect me to do nothing about this.”

“Seeley’s alive and Dorian will never try again now that you know everything. We’ll go away together, he and I. You owe me that much. Don’t look at me like that, Vi-let! Seeley would be dead now if I hadn’t told you what was going on. If you try to get Dorian hanged, I’ll—I’ll swear Seeley was just ill and the rest is all your sick imagination.”

She would do it. I could see from her face that she would do it. I wanted to scream at her, pummel sense into her; I shook from the effort of holding myself rigidly in check. After a few seconds she looked away and slumped down again in the rocker, facing the wall. Without Sunny’s support there was nothing I could do. I had no concrete proof. So far it had seemed best to tell no one else, not even Laney and Michael, what had really happened. Dr. VanZeldt believed it was poison only because I had said it was.

“All right,” I said slowly, evenly, although I was gripping my hands so tightly they began to tingle. “We’ll let Dorian move on if he swears to never come near Seeley again, since it’s between family.” I shook my hands out to make the blood flow. “But you can’t really still want to marry him after what he tried to do.”

“Of course I do,” she said quietly, as if there were no question. “I love him. Especially after all this he needs me.”

“But won’t he be furious because you told me and spoiled things?”

“Not if he never knows I did. Tell him—I know—tell him you saw the sludge left from the powder in the bottom of the cup and guessed Seeley’d been poisoned. And then you knew it was us. We’ll tell him that.”

I shook my head and sighed.

The sound of hooves coming down the lane reached us. I sat up straighter in my chair.

Dorian came riding up, hair and teeth glinting in the sun. He dismounted Grindill and slipped the reins over the newel post. He looked from Sunny’s face to mine as he climbed the steps. “What is it?” he asked. “What’s happened?”

“Not what you think,” I said coldly. “Seeley’s fine.”

I could see his brain working as he quickly took in the situation. His blue eyes went wild around the edges, like a trapped animal’s, but only for a moment. Then they settled into their usual cheerful, casually cunning expression as he leaned against the porch post. “Why? Is there a reason he shouldn’t be?”

I glared. “You know good and well that you tried to kill your own cousin. You did it through Sunny and poison this time. And the rifle last time. And I bet you partially sawed through that limb when it broke beneath Seeley right after you got here.”

There was an ugly little pause as Dorian’s eyes widened. “So, Sunny tried to poison Seeley?” He turned on her. “You poor, silly girl! I knew you were despairing for money so we could marry, but this.…”

Sunny sat straight up, staring.

“Sounds like there’s no harm done,” he continued, turning back to me. “She’s a fool, but I doubt she’ll be a danger to anyone again.
And blood’s thicker than water, so we’ll stand by her and not make it a matter for the law. Oh, wait, she isn’t actually your sister. Oh. Well, I hope you’re not bent on revenge against Sunny, coz. Could be tricky and unpleasant.”

My stepsister sputtered and so did I.

“You—you—cold-blooded, fiendish—
Dorian
!” Aunt Permilla had raised me too well to know names bad enough. “You can’t brazen your way out of this. You tried to murder Seeley. I know it’s you. All you, Dorian, and you can’t kill me and Sunny and everyone else who knows.” Of course, the others had no idea about the truth, but my cousin couldn’t know that. “If it were up to me, the marshal would have been waiting for you here. However, Sunny convinced me and I can convince the others not to turn you over to the law if you’ll swear to never come near Seeley again. Because if you do, if you do come within—within a hundred miles of him or Panola or Scuppernong, I promise I’ll see you hanged.” I ended on a high, shrill note.

“Well, well, coz! I knew there was passion buried in you just waiting to surface. So, is it the soldier—Thomas, isn’t that his name?—who’s brought it out?” He spoke in a slow, insolent drawl.

My face went numb. My lips felt so thick I was surprised I could form words. “You know about—how do you know about Thomas?”

“Oh, that letter you had me mail to his family. Of course I read it. At first I didn’t think much except to admire you for your slyness, but afterward it told me why you’ve been immune to my advances. And lately—in fact, just now—it occurs I have something to hold over your head. Remember that—I’ll go away and keep quiet about your soldier if you keep quiet about me. Even though really I’ve done nothing. Nothing’s happened.”

“Your ‘advances’?” Sunny squeaked as if she’d heard nothing else. “You tried to seduce Violet?”

“Oh, ho hum.” Dorian yawned. “Why not tell you now that it’s all blown up in our faces? Yes, of course I tried with Violet, but she’d have none of it.”

Sunny gave a terrible cry and leaped up to cling to him. “I love you! I did everything for you.”

He extricated himself none too gently. His eyes narrowed and his expression of mild mockery changed to one of undisguised malevolence. “That’s why it was so easy, sweetheart. I did worry you’d make a mess of things, as indeed you did, but I had to work with what I had.”

Sunny dropped into her rocker, swinging her head back and forth as if in pain. “You don’t mean it. He doesn’t mean it.”

Dorian snorted and clapped. “Well, there, it feels good to let that out. And, Sunny, in case you haven’t gathered, our delightful betrothal is at an end. I leave you a free woman. I’d best be going now. Let me fetch King, and do you mind if I just grab my things out of the spare room? I won’t go upstairs at all.”

I staggered to my feet, amazed at his breezy recovery. It was all too fast. Everything was too fast. I didn’t know if I myself would ever recover from the knowledge of what my cousin Dorian was capable of. Of his cheery, smiling soullessness.

“No, no, no,” he said, and gently pushed me back into my seat. “No need to disturb yourself on my account.” He started for the door and then turned around. “Oh, and thank you, coz, for saving me from hanging—twice.”

Sunny was crying, a high, brittle, terrible sound. I touched her hand to comfort her. She snatched it back as if I were poison.

An awful few days followed. Seeley had little appetite and was weak and listless. Dr. VanZeldt had warned it would take the boy some time to heal from the ravages worked on his innards and that nothing would speed up the process. Even if there had been something the doctor could do, I didn’t know if I could have borne approaching him again.

Everyone was miserable. Miss Elsa agonized over Dorian’s departure and the end of Sunny’s betrothal. We told her simply that Dorian had turned out to be a rascal and had broken off the engagement. She was as heartsick as if it were she who had been jilted. She worried Sunny with her fussing, and when the daughter spoke sharply in response, the mother hid in her room, snuggling her last remaining drops of laudanum.

Laney watched us all with worried eyes, but said little. A new wedge was forced between us from the secrets I could not share.

Sunny never asked me about Thomas. Probably she had been in such a state she hadn’t even heard Dorian allude to him. My stepsister fluctuated between trying to avoid Seeley and begging to do things for the boy—bring him treats or play cards. I watched her warily. I was prepared to forgive, but couldn’t forget, and for Seeley’s sake I had to be cautious. Sunny seemed aware of my holding back. Sometimes I would find her eyes on me, pleading. I couldn’t yet give her what she wanted.

The first time she offered my cousin a cool drink, he smiled, took
it, and said, “Thank you. I’m not scared of it hurting me. I know you didn’t mean to the other time.”

Her face scrunched, and she burst into tears and fled the room. I followed her to her bedroom, where she punched her pillow with a fist, crying, “I hate him!”

And she didn’t mean Seeley.

Another time I caught her staring strangely at the face carved on the back of the sofa. She gave a thin, humorless laugh. “Look at that. It’s got a smirk like Dorian’s.” She popped her hand over her mouth. “Oh, I meant never to say his name again.” Suddenly she was beating the old sitting room armchair with a cushion, crying, “He should not have done that to me! He had no right!”

Anger was probably a good sign.

I, meanwhile, was at a loss over Thomas.… Dorian would not trouble him as long as I kept the law ignorant of his treachery, but there were still the VanZeldts. Despite the fact that they had cured Seeley, I couldn’t trust them. As Thomas recovered further, their healing might turn to something more threatening. He still needed me, even though I had painfully broken off the romance.

And about that—whenever I had a spare moment to think of anything other than the current mess we were in, I had begun to question my reasoning. I had thought I was being so grown-up, so wise, facing facts; was I actually a fool?

However, I told myself firmly, at this moment it didn’t matter. I couldn’t leave Seeley right now, no matter what, since he fretted if I left his side for more than a few minutes. Food must be taken to the Lodge.… I made a decision. I must confide in Michael—and, of course, in Laney, since he would have no secrets from her. Three
mornings after Dorian left, I related to them what Seeley and I had been doing for the past weeks.

Laney snorted. “So that’s what you’ve been up to. I knew something was going on.” She tweaked my shoulder with one finger. “And you looking so innocent when I mentioned food missing. I thought it was Miss Sunny.”

I gave a sigh of relief. “I’m so glad you’re you, Laney.”

“What do you mean?”

“Because you don’t hold it against me that I couldn’t tell you about all this till now.”

“Of course you couldn’t. And I’m not even surprised that you helped a Yankee after all your going on about hating them. Everything’s different when you really get to know folks. The man trusted you with his life. I would’ve done the same as you.”

“Thank you anyway, for being you. All these years you’ve been my example of good sense and—and
stability
. You’re absolutely wonderful, my friend.”

Laney laughed and shoved me, but I could tell my words pleased her.

Michael carried a basket to Thomas and returned with a report that he seemed all right. I breathed a sigh of relief and longed for details, but didn’t want to make my concern too obvious. Instead I only thanked Michael and asked him to run into town to return Miss Ruby Jewel’s mended collar.

He wasn’t gone long, and I was on the front porch shelling peas when he came back with two pieces of news.

The first was that Pratt Wilcox had died of pneumonia somewhere in Maryland.

My hand flew up to cover my mouth. Pratt! And so far from home. Would the deaths never end? How could we bear for more men to be gone?

As Michael related his next news, at first I scarcely heard him, but slowly his words sank in. Miss Ruby Jewel had passed away two days before and had left her house and all she possessed to Jubal. I nodded slowly. There were usually bad feelings about Negroes owning property, but probably in Jubal’s case no one would bother him. The whole county sympathized with the old man.