His Black Wings (13 page)

After a light dinner, Mr. Lowood informed me he had to go out for some business tomorrow morning but would be back by lunch time. I was to be ready and waiting for him.

When I inquired as to why, he raised his eyebrow.

“It’s a surprise.”

That night as Naza and I settled in to bed with the warm glow of the firelight illuminating the room, I marveled at how contented I felt. The servants seemed happy and friendly, Mr. Lowood himself seemed more at ease, even Naza seemed happier. The environment was beautiful and Mr. Lowood seemed happy to have me here.

Perhaps I could be happy here, even if his son never appeared to me.

As I drifted off I heard Naza give a low “ruff”. She had gotten off the bed and was sniffing at the bottom of the door.

Does she smell someone in the hallway or does she need to go outside?

I rose from my bed and found my robe and slippers. I did not want to have to take her outside but I would be mortified if she had an accident in the middle of the night. I opened the door and faced the darkness of the hallway. It was after 10 p.m. and all the servants had gone home for the night. I walked Naza down the hallway where she stopped and sniffed the door leading to the staircase and tower room.

I called her away as I glanced towards Mr. Lowood’s room. There was a light showing through the bottom of the door. I urged Naza to follow me to the front door. I let her out and we walked to the pond in front of the house. While she sniffed every blade of grass and seemed totally disinterested in doing the business I had brought her out here to do, I sat down on the stone bench to look into the dark waters.

The moon was out and the night was still, so I did not understand why I heard the sudden rushing of wind. Naza looked up towards the wind break trees and gave another low “ruff” as she ran off. I stood up not knowing if I should follow her or not. I didn’t want her to go exploring further into those trees. I could no longer see where she had run off to so I walked slowly towards where she had entered them.

“Naza, come on girl. It’s cold out here.” I called out to her softly. I heard the thumping of her tail on the ground as though someone was petting her, but I could see nothing because the trees blocked the moonlight. I pushed through the tree branches just as something large and black moved away from Naza and retreated into the shadows. My knees grew weak and began to shake but I didn’t fall. Naza came over to me happily and put her muzzle in the palm of my hand as if to tell me everything was all right.

“Come on.” I whispered shakily to her. I was not sure if it was beast or man that I saw but I was afraid and did not want to stick around to find out. I did not run back to the house as I so desperately wanted to do. I felt eyes following my every step.

He knows I am afraid
.

Where did that thought come from? Who was “he”?

Naza stayed at a steady gait by my side and kept casting curious glances at me as if to say, “
What’s the matter
?” I went back into the house and locked the door. As I entered my room I locked the door behind us. The room was warm and cheery looking. The fire in the fireplace was still growing strong to heat the room, but I felt a deep chill in my person from what I thought I saw. I heard a loud thump on the ceiling above my room as I sprang to my bed and got under the covers. I did not fall asleep until morning broke.

Pacing and moving his wings methodically back and forth in his tower room, Etrigan was agitated. There were only boxes of books and a dusty desk up here. He was not comfortable in the cold room they only used for storage. He would have to bring up his mattress tomorrow night when the house slept.

“When she slept.”

He could not understand why his father would do something like this. Who was she to his father and why was she so important that his father would bring her to Westwind? He had approached his father in the early morning hoping to control his own temper and get more information. If this girl was only to stay a short while then he may be able to handle it. If the nature of her visit was more permanent, then something would have to be done about her. His father merely looked at him while he drank his tea in his library.

“She is someone that needs a place to stay Etrigan.” His father stated simply.

“
Yes I know
, but for how long and why?”

“How long, I do not know. Perhaps she will be gone as early as next week or perhaps she will be here till next year.”

“Really! What kind of answer is that Father?”

“The kind that I give Etrigan. What is it that you want?”

“I want to know when I will have my own life back? Since we have servants, I can’t walk about the house freely during the day and now that this girl is here, I can’t walk around the house freely at night.”

“You can walk around the house at whatever time you choose Etrigan. I know you speak to Thomas from time to time, and his wife Mrs. Whitby is very nice. They have been with us since the beginning and yet you still choose to treat them as enemies and hide from everyone but Thomas.”

“Mrs. Whitby is a woman, she will be frightened.”

“You say the same thing over and over Etrigan and frankly, it’s becoming tiresome. I think it is you who are frightened of them.” Etrigan grunted at his father’s remark.

“How do you think it feels for me, prisoner in my own home? You are the one that has told me people, other people will not accept me, I have to stay hidden.” His father’s expression changed subtly and he looked down at his cup of tea.

“Etrigan, she will be here as long as she is here. I do not want to discuss it further. Make the best of it, reach out to her, you may be surprised to find that she is a delightful young woman.” With his trademark scowl, Etrigan had left his father’s library none the wiser at when the “guest” would leave.

For years it had only been him and his father at Westwind. He vaguely remembered his mother; fragments, feelings and scents mostly. A kind smile and warm embrace, the smell of vanilla perfume. His father had largely taken up the role as mother and father to him when she passed away. His father had been a good teacher and a better playmate to him. Always bringing home games for them to play together, reading aloud and taking walks in the forest together. Etrigan loved his father even though he seemed moody and reserved for the last few years. How could he tell his father his thoughts and feelings were changing, they were no longer the thoughts of a boy, but a man? He felt a yearning deep inside of him for something…an ache that he could not understand. Reading through all the books in his father’s library he ran across love stories. They would stir something inside of him, but most often than not, the book would be dashed to the floor in frustration. He read about perfect people and perfect lives. No one had his disfigurement or situation, no one could love his ugliness. The sourness he felt for himself turned itself outward and closed him up even more.

However
, Etrigan was curious about the large wolfhound that the girl had brought with her. He had never had a dog before, being afraid that the dog would reject him like the horses in his father’s stables did. He had never asked his father for one. True, he had named all the horses when he was a teenager, but he frightened them. They would paw the ground and stamp their hooves nervously. Etrigan felt as though he did not belong to the world of man or of beast.

***

“Hello Miss? I hate to wake you since you were so sound asleep, but I am sure you would be want to eat a little something before the Master comes home.” Mrs. Whitby was standing at my bed side. I looked over to Naza’s place on the bed to find it empty.

“Where is Naza?” I asked sitting up quickly, rubbing my eyes.

“Oh, when I came in to check on you, it seemed like she needed to go out so I let her out to have her walk and breakfast. She’s been running around outside with the groomsman, Timothy. You remember, my grandson.”

“I’m sorry, I over slept. I didn’t get much rest last night.” Mrs. Whitby walked over to my dressing room and picked out an outfit for me.

“Oh and why is that dear?” I didn’t know if I should tell her the truth or not. I decided to change the subject.

“What time did Mr. Lowood say he would be back?” I asked as I headed to the bathroom.

“You have an hour before he arrives. If you get ready quickly you can grab a quick bite to eat before you are off.” I nodded and hurried in the bathroom to shower and dress. By the time Mrs. Whitby served me breakfast I had convinced myself that what I had seen last night was nothing more than an animal of some sort. A very tall animal that was of no danger to me since Naza did not raise any sort of alarm.

You are a silly girl Claren
. I thought to myself.

Mr. Lowood entered the house whistling a happy little tune which surprised me. He spied me at the dining table and came in.

“Well! How are we today?” I smiled and used my napkin to remove the last crumbs from the table. The piquant scones that Mrs. Whitby served had satisfied me, but I felt as though I could make room for one more. Mr. Lowood’s appearance cancelled that plan.

“Fine, thank you.” I answered standing up. I picked up my plate to remove it to the kitchen. Mr. Lowood raised an eyebrow and quickly strode over to me taking my plate out of my hand.

“Now now, we don’t have time for all that,” he put the plate back down on the table, “We need to get a move on. Mrs. Whitby! Mrs. Whitby we are leaving.” Mrs. Whitby met us in the hall with my coat and a pair of light gloves. He helped me on with my coat and again took possession of my arm. I noticed that Mrs. Whitby’s gaze rested on this gesture.

“We will be back, hold down the fort will you? Please make sure that Naza does not wander away to far from the house please. That is a concern of Claren’s.” Mrs. Whitby nodded and smiled.

“Also, Mrs. Whitby, this is of grave importance.” He held up his index finger in the air in front of her.

“Have the vet come by tomorrow afternoon to have a look at Naza’s leg. I want that blasted splint off.”

He looked at me and frowned.

“Excuse my language dear, I am anxious to see Naza bounding through the trees and racing over the lawns here. I am sure she is quite fit now. Don’t you agree?” I nodded. It was something that I had thought about as well. He continued.

“So let it be then Mrs. Whitby! We’re off!”

“Of course. Will you be back for dinner Sir?” Mrs. Whitby asked. Mr. Lowood hesitated, then looked at me as if trying to decide something.

“No we will not be. Call it out on the mountain tops, I am taking Claren out for dinner. Now make sure everyone knows, we won’t be home for dinner.” She nodded.

The carriage ride took us into the town of Hartsford. A nice city, smaller then St. Marhen but still crowded. Our first stop was at a tog shop. He apparently wanted me to learn how to ride. After several moments of me outside the shop protesting he hauled me in good naturedly.

“You
will
learn how to ride. I demand it Claren. You will thank me for it! Trust me.” He picked out riding pants, skirts, coats and boots. It seemed as if we went to every shop in Hartsford. We stopped for some tea and muffins at a café, then we pressed on. He seemed to want to find the perfect items as he put it, “to suit me”.

The October sky began to darken and bring with it the night time chill. The street lights came on and my stomach began growling. Just when I was about to say something about eating, Mr. Lowood prompted the driver to take us to a restaurant. After a short drive we found ourselves at “The Simkin”. We sat in the corner of this lovely little bistro that had singing waiters. Mr. Lowood would sometimes grimace at me when they would hit high notes. Even though I can’t say I particularly enjoyed all the horsewoman apparel shops we visited, it was nice to see him in good spirits. I once again marveled at his change of personality from St.Marhen to Westwind, his home. With our meal finished and the bill paid, we made our way to the carriage. As I entered the carriage I heard a voice call out to Mr. Lowood.

“Fredrick! Fredrick Lowood, you son of a gun is that you?” A rotund man waddled up to Mr. Lowood. Mr. Lowood’s expression took on a dark look for a fraction of a second, only I could see it since he faced the inside of the carriage where I had just seated myself. As he turned to face the owner of the voice, his expression changed into a broad smile.