Darkwater (11 page)

He turned and looked directly into Jennifer's eyes. “I promised her a home. How can I turn around now and send her away again to the same sort of treatment or maybe even worse?”

Her heart went out to this big, rugged man who could at the same time express such concern for another's well-being.”

“I don't believe you can,” she said softly.

“But, Alicia....”

“...Is Alicia. She is jealous by nature, and possessive, and she is consumed with her own discontent. I believe that if you were to send Liza away, things would be a little better for a short while, until Alicia found another target for her bitterness. Forgive me, I have no right to speak like this of your wife....”

“No, it's all right. I want you to speak freely. What of Alicia's illness?”

“The doctor says there is nothing wrong with her medically. I do not know what you can do, but it has been my own observation that to give in to such a condition is to encourage it to worsen. Thus far everyone has gone along with the idea of Alicia's dire illness. Perhaps if you were firm...it might help. I don't know. I'm not a doctor, of course.”

“No,” he said in a voice so soft it could barely be heard. “Only an angel. Only the best thing that ever came into my life.”

She knew that now was the time to speak, to tell him of her decision to leave Darkwater, but for a moment the words would not come, and then it was too late.

“Promise me you won't leave,” he said, as if he had read her thoughts. “Stay here and help us. We need you here. I need you. And Alicia needs you too, of course. It has helped her already, having someone like you in the house.”

“How can you say that, after tonight?”

“These outbursts are not new, I can assure you of that. She had as many or more before. At least you have made things a little more pleasant for...for all of us.”

She knew of course that she could not go now, not after he had asked her to stay, not after he had told her he needed her. Though the darkest tragedy might threaten, though she might forfeit every chance for happiness in the future, she knew she would remain, close at his side, to serve in any way that he might need her. To do otherwise would be to betray herself, to betray her innermost desires.

She had not spoken in a long moment, and with an anxious expression on his face, he said, “You will stay, won't you?”

He leaned toward her, as if he meant to kiss her, and her heart went pounding—but Helen appeared at the door just then. She stopped, saying nothing, only looking from one to the other.

“Good night,” Jennifer said, and before either could say anything further, she was by them and out of the room, running toward the stairs.

CHAPTER TWELVE

It was doubly unfortunate that the following day Mrs. Baumgardner added to the story of Liza's “witchcraft” with the news that her prize laying hen had died mysteriously during the night. By midday the story had spread through the environs of Durieville and returned to Darkwater with the servants.

Bess heard the story from a friend, and after pooh-poohing it firmly, she came to tell Helen, who also pooh-poohed it, but could not help worrying about the consequences of such gossip circulating.

“If Walter tries to send Liza into service after this, it will be doubly hard,” she said in relating the story to Jennifer.

Jennifer already knew that Walter did not intend to send Liza into service, but she could not help thinking that this gave Walter an excuse to follow his own intentions. With a wile born of her love for him, she seized the first opportunity to point this out to Alicia.

“You have only yourself to blame if Liza is still in the house,” she said when, later that same day, Alicia asked if Walter had made any plans to send her away. “If you will insist upon screaming to the entire neighborhood that the girl is a witch, you can hardly wonder if people are afraid of her.”

“But you do believe she is a witch, don't you?” Alicia asked. “You saw what she was doing with that effigy.”

“I saw her doing sleight-of-hand, just like tricksters do at carnivals. And as she says her parents were carnival people, it is hardly surprising that she learned a few of their tricks.”

Alicia sulked. “No one cares if she is killing me with her black magic tricks.” But it was clear that Jennifer's remark had hit home, because she soon dropped the subject of Liza's witchery.

The result was that things were very peaceful again at Darkwater during the next few days. After a week or so, even the gossip died down, and while no one wanted to forget the stories about Liza's witchcraft and Alicia's hysteria, they soon lost their relish.

Jennifer did what she could to maintain the peace. She discovered the next day that Liza felt grateful for her intervention and she quickly took advantage of that fact. She did not mind playing upon other people's feelings in this instance, knowing that what she did was for Walter as well as for the general good.

“If you are really grateful,” she told Liza, “you will keep the promise I made.”

“What's that?” Liza asked, the old suspicion creeping into her voice.

“You will do what you can to keep the peace in the house. And that means, no upsetting Alicia.”

Liza looked sullen. “Alicia gets upset over nothing.”

“Then the thing for you to do,” Jennifer said, not to be put off so easily, “is to avoid her. Stay out of her room. Play somewhere where she cannot see or hear you. Let her forget you're here.”

“I hate her,” Liza said vehemently.

“It's wrong to hate.”

“Do you think it's wrong for me to hate her but it's all right for her to hate me?”

“I don't think it's ever right to hate. But in order to stop it, one person has to stop first.”

Despite Liza's resistance, Jennifer observed that during the next few days she was scrupulous in avoiding Alicia's company and in doing nothing to irritate her. It began to look as if some sort of domestic tranquility had at last arrived at Darkwater. The others, too, remarked on this.

“I can't get over how quiet it's been around here,” Helen said one day.

Susan, who was there for lunch, said, “Maybe after her last outburst, Alicia has let off some steam.”

Only Walter was suspicious of the new quiet. Perhaps, Jennifer thought, noticing the uneasy glances he cast toward Alicia's door, he has been too long living with that tension to give it up easily now.

Of all those involved, Alicia seemed to make the most effort to avoid further conflict. Indeed, since that unfortunate incident with the children, Alicia seemed to be experiencing something of a recovery. Only a few days later, she announced, with a note of surprise in her voice, that she was feeling better.

“I can hardly believe it,” she said, “the pressure at my throat has lessened. I can actually breathe again without pain.”

Seeing an opportunity she had been looking for, Jennifer said, “I wonder, then, if the time hasn't come to let nature do some of her work. Don't you think a little fresh air and sunshine would do you good?”

At first Alicia looked a little shocked at the suggestion, and then intrigued by the idea. Almost shyly, she said, “I haven't been outside in over a year.”

“Then I think you are overdue,” Jennifer said decisively, smiling. She was still convinced that if only she could get Alicia interested in recovering, get her to mentally “let go” of her suffering, she would be on the road to total recovery. And a return to the simple delight of sitting outside on a lovely summer day was surely a step in the right direction.

The very next day found them making the trip from Alicia's room to the front yard. It did indeed seem a long journey, and Alicia clung to Jennifer as they reached the front door, but it did not seem so much a matter of weakness, Jennifer thought, but of fear.

“My, I had forgotten how bright the Lusianna sun can be,” Alicia said, blinking from the shelter of the front porch, but she looked delighted to be there.

“I thought we would sit in the shade of that big oak,” Jennifer said, pointing. It was a vast old tree, with moss dripping from its gnarled branches. It cast a great shadow upon the lawn.

“That's the Dere oak,” Alicia said as they moved slowly toward it. “According to the story, it was planted by the first Dere to settle here, and as long as it stands, the Deres will continue to reside here. There's more to it than that, oh, I don't know, Walter could tell you.”

The thought of the Dere family going on and on through generations gave Jennifer an odd pang. She would not be part of it. She would live out her life and die, and never know a husband, because the one man she would have for a husband was married to the woman clinging to her arm. It seemed suddenly as if the sun had dimmed.

“Isn't this nice, now?” Alicia said when they reached the spot under the tree. Earlier, Jennifer had directed the men to place a settee in the shade there, on which Alicia could recline, and a chair for Jennifer. A tray bearing glasses and Bess's fresh lemonade sat on a small table.

“I believe I will do this every day,” Alicia said, smiling about at her surroundings.

For the next several days, Alicia was as good as her word. With each day the results were dramatically obvious. Alicia's cheeks began to glow and her eyes took on a sparkle Jennifer had never seen in them before. Each day they lingered a little longer, and there was no doubt that the fresh air under the oak tree was exhilarating and reviving her.

“It's better than any medicine I can prescribe,” Doctor Goodman said when he came next to examine Alicia. “Miss Hale, I congratulate you, you have done wonders with my patient.”

“Yes, it is all thanks to Jennifer,” Alicia was quick to agree.

“It was a good day for us when you decided to come for the job,” Helen said, and Bess nodded her head in agreement. Walter stood at a distance and watched.

Later, looking back, Jennifer was to realize these were the last truly peaceful days at Darkwater. They were a moment of respite in the storm that was even then threatening to break about them.

It was to be expected that something would happen to end the quiet, and that when it did, it was between Liza and Alicia.

With Alicia up and moving about much more than before, it was inevitable that the two would meet, no matter how much everyone tried to keep them apart, but how they met was most unfortunate.

Alicia had been doing so well in getting around that she ventured one day to leave her room on her own. She had intended it for a surprise.

Won't Walter be surprised to see me at the table, she told herself, leaving her bedroom and starting slowly along the hall. It was time for dinner and she could hear the murmur of voices from the dining room. Earlier, she had told Jennifer she was not hungry yet and would like her tray a little later than usual.

She went slowly, supporting herself with a hand against the wall. She had nearly reached the dining room when a flurry of sound made her start. The next moment, Liza burst into the hall and collided with Alicia. The two of them went sprawling, taking a hall table with them.

“What on earth...?” Helen appeared in the doorway, and Walter behind her a moment later.

Alicia burst into tears at being discovered in such an undignified position, sprawled on the floor like an unruly child, Liza lying half across her.

“Oh, you awful child,” Alicia cried, slapping angrily at Liza. “You did that on purpose. I was trying to surprise Walter, to show him how good I was doing, and you've spoiled it, and you did it on purpose.”

“Alicia, be reasonable,” Walter said, coming to help her up. “How could Liza have known what you were planning? I certainly didn't. And she might have hurt herself as well in a spill like that.”

“That's right, take her part,” Alicia sobbed, slapping his hands away. “That's all you can think of, that she might have been hurt. What about me? I wish she had been hurt. I wish she had broken her evil little neck.”

Liza said nothing. She sat woodenly on the floor, staring at Alicia as Jennifer helped Alicia to her feet.

“Come along, we'll help you into the dining room,” Jennifer said.

“No,” Alicia cried, “I won't go there. I want to go back to my own room, where I belong and where that witch can't torment me.”

She would not let herself be persuaded otherwise. Jennifer gave in and helped her back to her bedroom. Once there, Alicia wanted to be helped into bed and, as she seemed even weaker than before, it was several minutes before Jennifer could excuse herself and return to the dining room.

“You all think I'm crazy,” Alicia said, “but if I am, it's because she has driven me crazy, tormenting me with her tricks. You won't be happy until she's killed me.”

“Alicia, if anything is going to kill you it will be your own insistence that you are ill,” Jennifer said. She left before Alicia had time to reply.

“I do think...,” Jennifer began as she came into the dining room where the others waited, but Walter had anticipated her remark.

“I've already scolded Liza,” he said quietly. “It was an unfortunate accident, and she shouldn't have been running in the house, but it was an accident. We all know that Alicia lets things get all out of proportion.”

Jennifer did not care to argue this further but she had certain reservations of her own. She had happened to glance down as she was helping Alicia to her feet, and she had seen the look Liza gave Alicia. It was a look of such venom that for a moment Jennifer had almost been willing to believe that Alicia was right and that Liza had caused the accident deliberately.

Which was silly. How could she have known that Alicia was coming down the hall just then? Anyway, Liza was only a child, and it was the sort of accident any child might cause.

Still, she could not entirely rid herself of the odd feeling that perhaps there was some grain of truth to Alicia's insistence that Liza had deliberately caused the accident.

Which wasn't possible, was it? Anyway, Alicia had invited it. Perhaps, she thought, the two of them have fought so long now that fighting is a familiar comfort and without it they do not quite feel right.

If that is the case, she told herself, they should both be happy now, because undoubtedly the peace is broken.

As it turned out, she was more right even than she thought.