Dawn in My Heart (18 page)

“What do you mean?”

“It be powerful black magic that afflicts my master. He left a woman on de island when he come here to wed my lady, but that woman not willing to let him go.”

“You're sure of this?” Gillian was surprised at Althea's attentive attitude toward the valet. She certainly seemed to be taking the black man's ridiculous theories seriously.

“Yes. I went to see a woman in London—a woman who can ‘see' things. She saw dis woman and say Lord Skylar be
sick with a powerful curse. She gave me remedies, but none was strong enough.” He leaned over the bed and drew out the leather thong around his neck. “This is to ward off de evil. I think it's the only thing keeping my lord alive.”

Althea leaned over next to him and examined the neck charms. Then she straightened and touched the valet on the arm. If she noticed Gillian's presence she gave no sign. “Do you know, there is something more powerful than this magic?”

Nigel's eyes looked at her with hope. “You know of a more powerful magic?”

Althea nodded, and Gillian was struck by the strength in her demeanor. “Oh, yes, Nigel, much more powerful. But it's not magic. It's spirit.”

Nigel's eyes brightened in understanding. “Yes, it's spirit. Which spirit is this?”

“The Holy Spirit.”

Nigel's eyelids closed in disappointment. “The Christian spirit not powerful against dis kind of evil.”

Althea took the man's hand in hers with no apparent thought to the color of his skin. “Oh, yes, it is. You shall see.”

She turned to acknowledge Gillian then. “Hello, Lady Skylar.” She turned back to Nigel. “May I ask you to summon Katie for me? We shall begin by praying for Tertius. The ‘prayer of the righteous availeth much,'” she told him with a smile.

 

A few nights later, Tertius woke and saw his half sister sitting by his bed.

“Althy,” he said, his voice hoarse.

She looked at him with a smile.

“Papa's little by-blow,” he added, wanting to wipe the smile off her face.

He didn't succeed. The smile faded, but somehow it lingered in her gray eyes.

“I thought I had dreamed you here the other night,” he said.

“No, I'm real enough.”

“Why did you come?”

“I heard you were very ill.”

“Who summoned you?”

“Katie, your wife's maid. She knew where to find me.”

He frowned at the mention of his wife. “Where is…Gillian?”

“She may have retired for the night. I'm not certain.”

“I don't want her near me.”

His sister didn't reply. Instead she helped him take a sip of water. Hating to be at her mercy but feeling his throat parched, he was forced to submit to her ministrations.

“Why should you want to take care of me?” he asked finally, too weary to pursue the topic of Gillian.

“Because I love you.”

The answer annoyed him.

“I have never loved you,” he told her bluntly.

“That's all right. I have enough love for both of us.”

“You're mad.”

“But it's a wonderful sort of madness.” She reached forward and covered his hand with her warm one. “The Lord sent me to you. He wants to help you.”

He gave a weary snort. “Who is the Lord?” An agitation seized him. “Why was I brought here? I don't want to see Gillian. I don't want her to see me like this.”

“Shh. It's all right. She won't see you if you don't wish it.”

He closed his eyes, but that way lay terror. So many terrible creatures inhabited his dreams. “I'm not going to make it, am I?” he asked finally.

“Of course you are.” His sister's encouraging voice came to him from farther and farther away.

“Don't give me empty assurances.”

“I won't. I am praying for you.”

When he said nothing, she said, “Jesus loves you. He gave His life for you. Trust Him.”

“How do I trust someone I scarcely know?” he mumbled.

“Just call on Him.”

They were quiet a few minutes. It took too much effort to talk.

“I've always despised you,” Tertius finally said. “Yet here you are at my sickbed. I hope you don't expect my undying gratitude.” His laughter came out a wheeze.

“I always understood why you disliked me.”

“You are discerning, at least,” he said before the heaviness in his eyelids was too much and he slipped back into the netherworld that held him in its grasp.

 

Althea gathered them together and led them in prayer for Tertius every day. Gillian stood as an unwilling spectator more than participant. There was no change in Tertius's condition. They took turns sitting by his side. Gillian dreaded her turn, hating to see the fear, at times downright terror, in him.

He'd cry out, many times sitting up, his eyes abruptly opening but not seeing her. Whatever he saw tormented him.

She turned to Althea when her sister-in-law entered the
room and demanded of her, “Can't you do something? Doesn't God hear your prayers?”

“I know He does. No evil can prevail against Him.”

Althea began to pray aloud and quote Scripture.

“Greater is He that is in me than he that is in the world.” Her voice rang out through the somber room, lightening it for an instant before the shadows fell again.

Gillian noticed that soon after her arrival, Althea spent more and more time on her knees at her brother's bedside and began to fast.

But Gillian saw no change in Lord Skylar, and she wondered when the end would come. She didn't see how Tertius's weakened body could hold out much more.

 

Katie brought a pot of tea and some biscuits up to Nigel one evening, knowing he would be at Lord Skylar's bedside most of the night.

“I brought you a light snack,” she told him as he rose to take it from her.

“Thank you,” he said with a soft smile.

She busied herself pouring him a cup, which he set down at a small table by the bed.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Sewing on a button,” he said, showing her. “Dis was—be one of Lord Skylar's favorite riding jackets. I noticed de button was loose.”

She stood watching him a moment, hesitating. All her work was done for the day. Lady Skylar wouldn't need her until she went to bed.

Without a word she drew a chair up to the bed and sat, her hands lying quietly on her apron.

Nigel made no comment about her presence. Instead he said, “You should ha' seen Lord Skylar on de island. Sometimes he'd ride bareback like the wind. Other times he'd be dressed de finest gentleman.”

“I never met him. I've been with Lord Caulfield's household since I was a wee girl, but Lord Skylar had already left for the Indies when I came.”

“How old you be, Miss Katie?”

“I turned eighteen in the autumn.”

After a bit, he said, “You know, you be de only person to eye me different when I first come to Lord Caulfield's household. You acted like I existed and weren't some stick of furniture.”

She smiled, remembering the servants' comments when Lord Skylar had first brought him. “You were so large and…and different—”

“Colored?” he put in.

“Yes,” she admitted. “I'd never seen one up close, if you know what I mean.”

“It be hard to understand. At home we be all shades of brown. Those of your pale skin be far fewer.”

“Tell me about your island.”

She listened, fascinated with the place he described.

“You must miss it,” she said, when he paused to knot a thread and break it off. She noticed the teacup beside him. “Your tea will grow cold.”

“It doesn't matter,” he said, laying the jacket in his lap and taking a long sip, which emptied half the cup.

He set the cup back down and took up the jacket once again. He shook it out. As he folded it in half, he frowned, eyeing it.

“What's the matter, discovered a tear in the cloth?” she teased.

He didn't say anything, but examined an inside portion of the hem where the garment was thickest along the jacket's facing.

Before she could ask him what he was doing, he took up a pair of small, sharp scissors and snipped at the threads of the hem.

Curious, Katie stood and leaned closer to him. When he'd gotten a good few inches loosened, he folded back the cloth. Katie drew in her breath at the sight of the small, cloth pouch flattened and tucked inside the hem.

She glanced up at Nigel's face and stopped short at the expression on his face. He looked terribly frightened.

“What is it?” she whispered.

He said nothing, but folded the cloth back to its original position and stood, looking around as if unsure what to do with it.

“What's the matter?” she asked more sharply.

“I found
it,
” he whispered hoarsely.

“Found what?” Her own heart was pounding in inexplicable fear.

“De source of de curse.” He finally focused on her. “It's what's causing his lordship's sickness.”

She gave him a scornful look. “Now, don't give me that hocus-pocus, heathenish talk. We're in a Christian nation.”

“That may be, but dis power be real.” He spoke so seriously it gave her a shiver. But she got hold of herself and reached for the jacket. “Let me see that thing.” Before he could stop her, she had unfolded the jacket and retrieved the pouch.

“It's just an ordinary cloth pouch,” she said in disdain. As she spoke she loosened the drawstring and emptied the contents onto her hand.

“Don't!” He reached for her but it was too late. They both stared in fascination at the odd assortment in the palm of her hand.

A bit of curled-up dried skin, like that of a snake; a powdery dirt the color of clay; two colors of human hair entwined; a wizened spider; some torn bits of cloth stained with dried blood; and ashes.

“That be from a shirt of Lord Skylar's,” Nigel said in awe. “De hair…it be his…and hers.”

Katie shook herself from her stupor. “This is nonsense. Some witch's concoction! I know what to do with this.” With those bold words, she poured the contents back into the sack and marched to the fire.

“What you be doing?” he asked worriedly, following her closely.

“I'm going to put it where it belongs, into the fire.”

He grabbed her hand in a viselike grip. “You mustn't destroy it like dat. It could release de evil and there be no telling where it land.”

She was stopped short by his wide-eyed look, the whites of his eyes in striking contrast to his dark skin.

“That's nonsense.”

“That's what you think, but Lord Skylar's condition speaks differently.”

They both looked toward the wan figure lying on the bed. Again she felt a shiver go through her.

“Very well, I won't burn it. But let me show it to Lady Althea. She'll know what to do.”

He considered and finally gave a nod of his head. “Very well. But she must understand it be evil. Powerful evil.”

When Althea came upstairs, Gillian followed behind, hardly understanding what her maid and Nigel had discovered and were in disagreement over.

“You say this is the evidence of the curse placed on Lord Skylar?” Althea asked, after listening to Nigel and examining the contents of the pouch as he spoke.

“Yes. The woman take various things—things that belong to Lord Skylar and other things—and declare a curse over his life, then she must put the things where they'll be near him. As long as the evil is not destroyed, his life be cursed.”

“I see,” she said softly. She, too, replaced the contents into the bag, but made no move toward the fire as Katie had done.

Instead she smiled at them, and Gillian felt a sense of shock that Althea alone of the four of them seemed to feel no fear at the harmless-looking object in her hand.

“The Lord has answered our prayers. He has revealed the source of the evil and now it's up to us to consign it back where it belongs.”

“You must be careful, my lady,” Nigel said with urgency. “You mustn't release de evil contained there.”

“Do not fear, Nigel, for ‘greater is the One in me' than the one who put this together.”

“You don't understand, Miss Breton—”

“The Lord has given us ‘power to tread on serpents and scorpions and over
all
the power of the enemy.' He has promised, moreover, that nothing shall by any means hurt us. Do you understand that, Nigel?
Nothing. Absolutely nothing
.”

Before Nigel could argue further, she closed her eyes and held out the pouch before her.

She began first of all to give thanks to God for revealing the object to them.

“Heavenly Father, I take the authority You've given me through Your son, Jesus, and I bind the power of darkness at work through this bundle. I send that power back to the pit where it belongs just as I confine this object to the flames to be consumed.”

As Nigel gave a start and made to reach out, her words stopped him.

“I declare You sovereign, Lord Jesus, over my brother Tertius, over his body and soul. I declare, in Your name, every attack and power of the evil one turned back, destroyed, and rendered completely useless against Tertius or anyone in his family or in this household. I break every curse spoken over his life. And I thank You for Your precious blood, Lord Jesus, which cleanses and heals him and sets him free.”

With those words, she opened her eyes, took the pouch and threw it into the fire, where it sizzled against the red coals before it burst into flames.

There was no visible change in Tertius.

Gillian realized she had somehow expected him to suddenly awaken and reappear his normal self. Of course, no such thing would happen! She glanced at Althea contemptuously.

But her sister-in-law did not seem disappointed. She told them, “I shall stay with my brother tonight. We must believe the curse has been broken.”