Evelyn placed the candle on the table and covered her ears. “No! I love him!”
“Then you will suffer as I have suffered. So be it!”
With that the noise in her head and the writhing in her veins ceased and a calm settled over her. She got back into bed and pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Moments later her mother entered the room in a flurry.
“Darling, are you unwell? I thought I heard shouting.”
She sat on the side of the bed and stroked Evelyn’s arm.
“I had a bad dream,” she said. That was quite an understatement. She glanced into the corners of the room, and still nothing of the woman remained. Could she trust that this was over?
“Would you like me to sit with you until you fall asleep?”
Evelyn felt like a foolish child at the thought of her mother having to sit with her because she’d had a nightmare. On the other hand, a part of her was vulnerable at the moment and the company might not be so bad. No one had to know.
She nodded at her mother and snuggled into the covers tucking them under her chin.
“You know, it is quite normal to have a case of the nerves after you become attached to your future husband.”
“It is?” Was that the source of the dream? If so, her subconscious had a twisted way of getting a point across.
“I remember when your father and I first courted. Oh he stole a kiss or two, but it was after on particular night at a ball I had the most frightening dream of my life.”
That was not possible.
“I dreamed when I walked down the aisle to wed your father, I was completely naked and everyone pointed and laughed at me. I was so mortified I could hardly speak to him the next day. It was so bad we almost called off the whole thing until he finally convinced me to tell him what was wrong. He laughed so hard I almost did call off the engagement,” she said with a smile.
The dreams were not quite the same, but Evelyn appreciated her mother’s attempt to comfort her.
With a kiss on the head, she moved to the door and said, “Sweet dreams of your Mr. Shaw. And may you always be clothed on your way down the aisle.”
Evelyn didn’t blow out the candle right away. She had something to do first. Sitting up she said, “Whatever your name is, you have had tragedy in your life and for that I am very sorry. But I am not you. And my Mr. Shaw is not the same man as the one who wronged you.”
A soft sizzling sound began all around her. But she would not relent. Allowing her heart to fill with only thoughts of Mr. Shaw, she said, “I banish you from my home and free you from the bounds of the cemetery as long as you harm no other in this life or any other.”
Suddenly the sizzling stopped and a soft weeping surrounded her. Not the kind to put hairs on the back of one’s neck, but almost that of relief.
Before her the image of a beautiful young woman glowed softly. She held her hands across her heart and smiled as tears washed down her cheeks.
“You have freed me.”
Evelyn blinked a few times and when the spirit before her did not vanish, she said, “You are welcome. What is your name?”
This made her smile more. “My name was Charlotte. I lived a long time ago and my anger bound me to that place all those years. But in you I saw a light and I wanted so very much to cling to it. I never thought it would free me so that I could find my own light.”
The woman smiled warmly at her once more and then faded into nothing. Peace settled over Evelyn. She snuggled under the covers once more and this time slumber came immediately. Her dreams did not plague her, nor did they come to pleasure her that night.
When she woke in the morning, the sun’s bright rays streaked across the floor. She put her arm over her eyes to shield the brightness from having spent so many days under the cover of dark-gray skies.
She sat up flicking the bed cover back to hop out of bed. She ran to the window and looked up. Not a cloud to be found. Today he would take her riding; be damned with the carriage.
Evelyn rang the bell for aid, which was something she did not do often, but today she wanted everything perfect. Sometime later when she had broken her fast, was dressed in her riding gown, had her hair perfectly tucked beneath her hat, and donned her gloves, she paced.
She drew in a deep breath as she waited. Her mother fussed over her and once or twice she may have swatted her hand out of the way. Somehow, this moment was the first where she could breathe freely around him. Like there was no longer a shackle holding her back.
Chapter Six
When he mether at the door, it was as though something had shifted, like the whole world was lighter somehow. She beamed at him letting her happiness flow through as if to tell him without words how she felt.
