The Solemn Bell(6)

“Miss Grey, please. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

But, just as quickly as she had appeared, the girl in the shadows was gone.





CHAPTER FIVE





Angelica listened from behind the wall. She’d slipped out of sight, but was not ready to leave the man. He had to be dying—there was no other explanation for the blood, the reeling nausea, or the smell of decay lingering over him. Yet, despite his suffering, Captain Neill seemed to be a very nice man. She no longer feared him, at least. She wanted to help him. She believed she could help him—in her own pathetic way—until he was in a position to help himself.

After a brief trip downstairs, she returned to the servants’ corridor with an old blanket and a pail once used for mop-water. Captain Neill was cold, and the blanket would help with the shivering. The pail was, of course, self-explanatory. She couldn’t have him ruining her mother’s favorite room with his sick.

Angelica pushed open the panel. “I’ve brought you some things.”

Captain Neill shifted on the sofa. “You’re back. I thought you’d gone forever.”

She handed the blanket out to him. When he took it, she offered him the pail. “Please don’t be embarrassed, but I…well, I thought you could use this, as well.”

He lifted it from her grasp. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Is there anything else you require?”

“If I say no, will you leave me? Or would you be willing to stay for a little while?”

She hesitated before answering, “If you want me to sit with you, I will, but on one condition—you must not try to look at me.”

There was a smile in his voice as he replied, “Are you hideous?”

Angelica couldn’t help but smile, in spite of herself. “Oh, yes. Terribly.”

It was a lie. Though she had naturally been sheltered growing up, she knew other people weren’t repulsed by her appearance. Some of Freddie’s school friends had even thought her pretty, with eyes the color of the sky. The way one looked—for better or worse—was of no consequence to her, yet she understood the importance others placed on appearances. The reason for keeping her face hidden was not for vanity, but for self-preservation. Angelica did not want Captain Neill to know her weakness.

“Do we have a deal?” she asked, hugging the shadows.

“Very well, Miss Grey. Keep yourself hidden, if it pleases you.”

She sank to the floor, propping her back against the wall. Angelica was close enough to the panel that she could flee if necessary—she always needed to know precisely where the exit of any room lay. She hated fumbling and stumbling in a blind panic. To be trapped in an unfamiliar place was another great fear of hers.

The two of them sat in silence for a long time. Captain Neill was often too sick to speak, and Angelica didn’t really know what to say. She hadn’t met many strangers in her life, and years of solitude made conversation a chore. Also, the storm outside pounded the roof and rattled the windows, which played tricks on her hearing. It muffled sounds that should have been clearly audible—like his labored breathing, or the ticking of the clock on the mantel. From her position on the floor, Angelica was at a disadvantage.

If her unexpected visitor had not arrived, she would have still been huddled on her kitchen pallet, likely fast asleep. But, by some miracle, he was there with her tonight. Angelica would be a fool not to at least learn something of the outside world—this might be her only chance.

“Captain Neill.” She paused to clear her throat. “How long has the war been over?”

He sighed, and then shifted on the sofa. The topic clearly made him uncomfortable. “Seven years.”

“Did we…win?”

“Depends on who you ask.”

“Lots of men died, though. Didn’t they?”

“Yes, many good men died. Have you really not had a newspaper or anything all this time? Surely, you have friends or family, at least, to bring you word. I find it hard to believe you know nothing of the greatest war in all human history.”

Now it was her turn to be awkward and uncomfortable. “Everyone I know is dead.”

“Lucky devils,” he scoffed.

“That’s not a very kind thing to say.”

Angelica frowned to herself in the darkness. If she had to meet one person in all these years, it was her rotten luck that he was contrary. Why couldn’t she meet a fellow who made conversation pleasant? Who made her feel not quite so freakish, or lost at sea.

She pressed on. “I live quietly, and am cut off from the world. Frankly, if it is as bad as you make it out to be, then I’m glad I know nothing of it. But I had a brother once, and a mother. We were separated during the war.” Angelica took a ragged breath. “I suppose I should have given up hope a long time ago, but, if the war has truly been over for seven years, I must accept that my family is not returning home.”

“Miss Grey, I am sorry…”

Her voice was surprisingly firm as she replied, “No, you’re not.”

“Is that why you never leave—because you’re waiting for them?”

“I stay because there is nowhere else for me to go,” she said. “Nothing for me out there.”

“Then I am sorry, indeed.”