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“But we can read after that.”
“That sounds good to me,” I say and straighten when Mrs. Strand clears her throat, her not so subtle signal. “I’ll see you after your lessons, okay?”
Angelique nods reluctantly and I walk out of the room, leaving the three of them in the room.
I go downstairs to find coffee and something to eat, making my way into the kitchen where May, the woman who had carried in my dinner the other night, is washing dishes. The smell of cake wafts from the oven.
“That smells delicious,” I say with a smile.
“That’s Catherine’s cake.” May switches off the water and turns to me, wiping her hands on a towel. “Can I help you, ma’am?”
Ma’am. “Isabelle,” I say. It feels weird to be called ma’am.
She smiles and nods. “Can I get you something?”
“I can get it myself if you don’t mind. I’m just looking for coffee and maybe a piece of toast or something.”
“Of course,” she says and walks over to a restaurant style espresso machine. “What would you like?” she asks.
“A cappuccino if it’s easy enough.”
She nods and gets busy making me a gorgeous cappuccino. She then goes to a bread box and opens it to reveal a loaf of homemade bread. She picks up the knife and slices two thick pieces for me. Setting them on a dish and adding them to a tray loaded with jams, butter, and various cheeses.
“That’s fine,” I tell her when she starts grabbing for more jars. “More than enough.”
“I’m sure Mr. St. James wants his bride well fed,” she says just as Catherine walks into the kitchen.
“That he does,” she agrees. “Come on now, we’ll set you up in the dining room.”
“I don’t want to be any trouble. I can just take the tray and eat outside.”
“It’s already quite warm and there will be rain later.”
“I don’t mind the heat and if it’s going to rain I’d better get out when I can.”
“All right then.” The younger woman carries the tray out and I follow her, still feeling guilty about being waited on. I take the seat at a table near the pool with an umbrella to shield me from the sun. I’m glad when she leaves me alone and I can eat my breakfast, thinking about what Angelique said about Jericho teaching her how to swim. I can’t picture it. At all.
I’m at a loss for what to do when I’ve finished breakfast and confirmed Angelique will be in her lessons for the next few hours. It seems a bit much for such a young girl but what do I know. After spending some time walking around the house and peering into rooms all of which are empty but immaculately clean and richly decorated, I change into running clothes and decide to go for a jog. I want to get my bearings around the property and get some exercise while I’m at it.
The sun is hot and I’m grateful for the cloud cover as I jog into the woods using the same path Jericho had taken me that night he played his stupid game of chase. Running feels good. Makes me feel like myself. Or maybe it’s just making me feel a little in control. Whatever it is, I like it and thirty minutes in, I feel rejuvenated, albeit a little sweaty.
I keep going until I come to the edge of the property where the wall that divides Bishop and St. James lands stands, impenetrable like the men on either side of it. Ivy grows along the wall and in some places, I see blooms of soft yellow flowers, the same that bloom on the other side. I think about Angelique then. I think she’d like to see this and make a mental note to bring her. If I’m allowed to, that is.
The wall encompasses the entirety of the property and I remember many a time standing on the other side of it. Running my fingers over the cool stone. I think about my life before and after Jericho St. James, this wall the physical divider between the past and my new present. My future.
My mind wanders to what Julia said. To Jericho’s intention. It’s too harsh to process though. Having a child for the purpose of revenge. Of taking something that doesn’t belong to you. Has he given thought to the child? To that little life he would bring into the world in the name of his vengeance? A child for a pawn. It’s unthinkable.
No, he can’t. Julia can’t be right. It’s too horrible. Too monstrous even for him. And I’m not sure how monstrous he is because my brain keeps taking me back to that moment in the cavern. How he hurt himself rather than hurt me. No monster would have done that. Not with his enemy bound and bared to endure his punishment.
Thunder crashes overhead. I look up to see how the sky has darkened and not a moment later, that sky opens up and a heavy rain rushes down. It will break the heat and humidity, but I have to hurry to take shelter and only realize where I am when I see the top of the stone building come into view from just beyond the trees.
The chapel.
The graveyard.
Lighting followed by thunder rock the ground beneath my feet. I don’t make a conscious decision but run as fast as I can through rain and toward the shelter of the little church. I don’t stop to think as I open the cemetery gate, the creaking dulled by the sound of a soaking rain. I hurry to climb the chapel stairs then push the heavy door open and slip inside. Closing the door behind me, I lean my back against it as my chest heaves with my breaths. I’m soaked through and hug my arms around myself.
It’s only slightly less eerie in here during the day and I try to remind myself there’s no such thing as ghosts, even though I know that’s not true. I walk to the altar, finding matches, and light some candles there for illumination. They’re dusty, I notice, but I realize something else. I smell incense. And it’s fresh. The other night when he brought me here the air smelled stale, the chapel closed up. Like no one had been here for a long time.
