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Chapter 4
Morning Breaks
The woods closed in around her. Huge trees, tall and dark enough to blot out the whole of the sky, stretched out in every direction in the shadowy forest.
Alicia gasped for breath as she looked around her for any means of escape. Everywhere she turned looked exactly the same as everywhere else. Worst of all was the awful silence of the wood—she could hear nothing but her own ragged breathing and her heartbeat, which hammered faster and harder as she spun about to find the way out.
Then it grew worse as the sound of her exhalations was joined by another sound. A strange, low, animalistic sound that came from everywhere at once.
“Hello?” Alicia said quietly, her voice condensing into white vapour before her eyes. “Who’s out there?” she asked, a bit louder this time. There was no answer to her query.
Then she saw the pair of shining eyes, peering at her from amid the trees, and an inhuman scream rang out through the pines.
“Aah!”
Alicia sat bolt upright, scattering sweat from her brow. She fought for breath, looking around at the alien space in which she found herself.
Where am I?she thought, her heart in her throat.What’s going on?
Before she could summon an answer to these questions, her blood froze as she heard the sound from her dream once again fill the room.
It was a long, long moment before Alicia recognized the sound as the voice of a rooster conducting his morning reveille just out her window.
Just a rooster, she said to herself, putting a hand to her chest and swinging her legs over the side of the little bed.Calm yourself, foolish girl. That was just a dream. You’re in Mister Gillingham’s house, and you’re perfectly safe.
Though the room lacked a clock, between the colour of the light and that particular birdsong that awoke her, Alicia guessed it was perhaps eight o’clock in the morning. She had slept through the night. It had apparently been a hard, dreamless sleep save for this morning’s frightening visitation.
Once she caught her breath and shook the sleep from her mind, Alicia dressed herself in a fresh change of clothes. Jenny had so helpfully assisted her in bringing her few possessions up to the room the night before, though Alicia was growing a bit tired of having to wear the same few outfits every day since leaving for Portsmouth a few weeks before.
I wonder if Herbert is back yet?she asked herself. This question was swiftly put aside by the loud grumble from her stomach.It seems other matters are of more pressing concern. For now, anyway.Alicia hoped there might be something to eat downstairs as she opened her door onto the sunny sitting room.
“Ah, good morning, Miss!” came Jenny’s chipper voice from her seat by the window. Her hands, as usual, were occupied with her knitting, and she did not rise as she greeted her employer.
“Good morning, Jenny,” Alicia returned with a smile. “You passed a good night out here, I hope?”
“Oh, yes, thank you! This country air is most excellent for the lungs, you know. Slept like a newborn babe right here in my chair.”
After another handful of pleasantries, the two women thought they would descend the stairs in search of something to eat. As they walked Alicia found her eyes lingering on some of the ornaments and paintings that adorned the walls, all of which she had missed the night before in her fatigue. Though it struck her as rather snobbish, she was surprised to see such decoration in the simple country house.
I wonder if these were put here by Laurence, or if he had some art-loving forbearer?thought Alicia.
The windows were thrown open to let in the gentle morning breeze, and the small dining hall was bathed in the blue-white light of morning. Atop the creaky old wooden table was a simple spread of eggs, bread, cheese, and preserved fruit. Sitting in a chair at one end of it was Mary-Anne, her eyes twinkling with humour as always.
“So you both survived your night in the wilderness, then, I take it?” she asked, rising to greet her visitors. “Please, join me, and thank goodness you arrived when you did. I was beginning to worry that I should have to eat this entire repast on my own—and knowing how I hate to shy away from a challenge, I would do it.”
“Thank you, Missus Stanhope, that would be lovely,” said Alicia graciously.
“Margaret only prepares supper for us, so I’m afraid you’ll have to do with yesterday’s bread and my rather poor culinary skills,” Mary-Anne said. “Though even I can’t foul up boiled eggs, lucky for all of us.”
“I’m sure it all looks just wonderful,” replied Alicia. Suddenly ravenous, she tucked into the dishes before her with gusto. Though it was a bit simpler than her usual fare—whenever possible Alicia preferred to begin the day with buttery French pastries—as ever, hunger was the best seasoning, and the relatively plain foods were as delicious as anything she had ever tasted. Jenny, as was her wont, confined herself to the boiled eggs.
“I was hoping we would have a chance to speak a bit more today, Miss Ramsbury,” said Mary-Anne congenially after a few moments of quietly watching her visitors stuff themselves.
“Indeed? What about?” asked Alicia, helping herself to a boiled egg that proved to be not only perfectly cooked, but with a much yellower yolk than she was accustomed to.
“Everything!” Mary-Anne laughed. “As you may be able to guess, there is not a great deal that goes on around here. And as fond as I am of my dear brother, and as necessary as it is to take a bit of time apart from my beloved husband—have I mentioned that particular necessity yet?”
Alicia laughed. “You have.”
