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“You must be feeling much better,” said Valerie in a low voice, “I’m glad to see you up.”
Miss Karnstein lifted her gaze to look at her, two smoky specks dimmed by sickness, and Valerie could see her smile, careless, clairvoyant, and light, bringing a spot of rose on her lips. It was so easy to picture her as happy, for her temperament was naturally sanguine and independent, and if not for her sickness, Valerie could easily attest to her charm. Yet, seeing her all dull and bruised, she shifted uneasily before her, struggling to carry on with the conversation.
“I’m sure you will be rid of this cold in no time,” she murmured. “Your family must be distressed by your absence and I am a terrible host for not having noticed it. But you can send them a short note, weather permitting. I’ll see to it.”
Miss Karnstein’s face tightened, her head low, the mouth compressed. “Please do not trouble yourselves in this harsh weather. I’m sure they know by now that I won’t be coming home soon and that communication would be impossible.”
“But you must let them know you’re safe and well! I cannot accept leaving your family with such terrible uncertainty!” Valerie pulled a yellowed piece of paper amongst the old books. “I will personally help you write the note, I do not want you to exhaust yourself. What is your address? There will be a stagecoach leaving tomorrow, I think. We can absolutely make it by then.”
Suddenly, Miss Karnstein screamed a loud, shrill cry, then she gasped, again and again. Her voice was too strange, too deep. “I do not want to write a note to my family,” she said, almost hissing, then she wept with hysteria. “They must not know I’m here. If they find out I’m taking this journey on my own…”
She closed the distance between them and threw herself into Valerie’s arms. “Please promise me you won’t contact my family and put me in great danger. If not…” She pulled herself away from Valerie’s embrace, her cheeks glistening with tears. “I will leave your house at this very moment and never get in your way again.”
Valerie reeled back, her heart leaping up in her throat. “But Miss Karnstein…” She cut her off.
“I know that I have not given you the answers you deserve, that I keep you in the dark and want you to trust me regardless. You and your husband welcomed me to this wondrous place very kindly and handled my illness skillfully, despite my rejections for examination, but it would devastate me if I made you carry my burden.”
“Please, Miss Karnstein. I’d hate to see you in anguish. I absolutely have no interest in judging or exacerbating your situation. I was just trying to help, and if my silence is the only instrument that will keep you safe here in this bitter winter, I’ll gladly do so. I am sorry.”
“Ah, Mrs. Vertigo. I’m forever indebted to you. Thank you.”
Miss Karnstein wrapped her hands around Valerie again, pressing her chin into the crook of her neck. Valerie stared, breathless, at the top of her head. For a moment, she wished she could bury her nose in Miss Karnstein’s hair, disguise herself beneath the sheen of her loose curls, now clean from those coppery streaks and soft like velvet, with no hurry, no bounds. She felt expansive and inclined to talk. Now words were washing over her, words that she did not think she had known, perched at the roof of her mouth with delight and pride. She did not want to lose this newfound friendship. It was as if what was missing came back to her, bolder and better, and she had ignored the gnawing sense of danger in the back of her mind, telling her that Miss Karnstein was sick with plague.
Miss Karnstein gestured at the new nightgown. Valerie remembered why she had come into the room and blushed, taking the dress from her hands.
“So you liked Vertigo Peaks?” Valerie asked as she pulled the nightgown over her head and fastened the buttons. The dress was nothing elegant, high-collared with ruffles at the cuffs, yet only “beautiful” came to Valerie’s mind to describe her guest in it. She paused when she reached her waist. She felt her neck redden with a familiar prickling sensation and stepped back, letting her guest handle the rest of the buttons.
There was a momentary tremor in Miss Karnstein’s voice. “Certainly. I was in a very dark place before, like I was at the bottom of a well. Damp and cold. This place reminds me that I can heal.”
“Of course!” She looked at her guest, incredulous. “I shall ban you from speaking such hopeless words.”
The sound of her laughter echoed in the room. Then there was more laughter, Valerie herself laughing too. She loved the clatter they made. She was coming to recognize it as something rare and unwonted which filled her heart with warmth, as though she were a seedling waiting for spring.
“Thank you again, Mrs. Vertigo,” Miss Karnstein said, climbing on her bed and covering her trembling legs with the quilts. “I am only grateful for your generosity, for taking care of me even though I am but a stranger to you.”
“We’ll have plenty of time to remedy that foreignness. You and I will see each other quite often, Miss Karnstein and I’m afraid I’ll take the risk of making you sick of me since you are stuck with me for a while after all.”
A faint smile lingered and bared her sharp teeth again. “Please call me Mircalla,” she said, or rather demanded. “I’m quite content with keeping your company.” Although a thick frown pressed around her brows and a shadow crossed her face every now and then, those did not stay long as they melted into a welcoming smile whenever Valerie spoke.
But the nights were drawing in fast, and the promise of a friend became too much to bear at once. The house groaned. She stood in the threshold, instructing her guest to rest well then closed the door.
15
“There’s a note foryou madam.” Ethel approached Valerie, the grating click of her heels giving her a headache. She tore the envelope open and moved closer to the fireplace. A dark noon lay outside, with a heavy snow, raining soot and grime, but it looked more like a gray dusk settling on the peaks.
Valerie read the note then read it again. The handwriting, which was penned in cursive, was hasty and smudged, almost illegible, yet there was no doubt that it was her husband’s writing. She sat up in her seat, scratching her cheek uncomfortably, as if humiliated by the letters. “My husband says he is snowed in and all the roads to the town are blocked. He does not know when they will clear the road.”
“Yes, madam. We did not get fresh milk delivery today. It’s like the crack of doom outside.”
Valerie gave her an anxious look. Ethel waved her hands, which she had hid under her apron, as if to soothe her. “Do not vex yourself, my lady. We have enough food and coal for weeks, thankfully.”
“Good afternoon, my lady.”
Valerie’s eyes widened when she saw Miss Karnstein approaching. The waxy and sallow hue on her face had disappeared from her face and the sparks in her eyes made her look even more youthful. Her cheeks were still pale, yet she looked healthy in her green dress. The symmetry of her face was intimidating at first glance, but when she passed her seat Valerie recognized a waft of her civet perfume and smiled. Her hair did not hang about her in loose curls as before; instead, it was pinned up in a wide bun on top of her head.
“It’s actually twelve o’clock,” Valerie said in exasperation and turned to her guest. “What a dreadful scene! My husband informs us that he’s snowed in and the roads are blocked. He also says he’ll send the doctor to gather a couple belongings as soon as the weather permits. One would expect the business endeavors to slow down in this season, yet he seems determined to work.”
“Indeed,” her guest replied, nodding absentmindedly. “This doctor of yours…” Miss Karnstein began after a brief pause, a most peculiar and questioning lilt in her voice, “He seems to help him a great deal. Is he one of your servants as well?”
