The Silent Touch of Shadows (42 page)

‘Roger, do you hear me? Show yourself!’
she yelled, anger and frustration giving her vocal cords additional strength. ‘If you want me to help you, then for God’s sake come and tell me how. I’m sick and tired of your games.’

Nothing happened. For long minutes she sat and listened to the sound of the rain beating against the windows. Roger didn’t materialise next to her, nor did he bang the door or even make the tiniest of draughts. Had she imagined it all? Was she really going crazy? Tears of helplessness poured slowly down her cheeks and she put her face in her hands.

‘I can’t live like this, Roger. Please, stop interfering with my life
 
…’ The tears ran more freely, accompanied by great hiccoughing sobs. She was so tired of this. So tired of waiting for an answer.

The light from the fire caught the emerald eyes of the little dragon on the ring she was wearing, making them twinkle at her. It felt warm to the touch and she held up her hand to look at the dragon’s face. His lips were drawn back to show off the sharp teeth, but it looked more like a smile than a snarl to her.

‘I don’t know what you’re smiling at, you were supposed to help me, he said,’ she whispered mournfully. ‘I wish you would.’ But how could an inanimate piece of metal possibly help her? She laughed bitterly. The idea was ridiculous in the extreme. The emerald eyes gleamed once more with a fire in their green depths, and she thought she felt a strange jolting electric shock zig-zag up her arm.

‘Ouch!’ She scowled at it, then realised she was being silly. Pieces of jewellery didn’t give people shocks. ‘Is there no end to my imagination these days?’ she wondered out loud, then closed her eyes with a resigned sigh.

‘Sweeting, help me
 
…’

Melissa jumped and twisted this way and that to see where the voice was coming from. ‘Roger? Are you there?’

‘Sweeting, help me
 
…’

The words echoed around the dimly lit room with an intensity that was almost painful. Melissa wasn’t sure whether anyone else could have heard them, or if they were just audible inside her head, but she was absolutely certain about one thing – they were driving her insane.

‘Stop it, leave me alone. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me how,’ she shouted. ‘God knows I’ve tried
 
…’ She searched the room with narrowed eyes to locate her Nemesis, but there was no one there. She clenched her jaw in frustration. ‘Show yourself, damn you. I know you’re here.’

His reply was to taunt her with silence.

She could feel his presence now. A prickling sensation on the back of her neck alerted her to his possible whereabouts, but when she swivelled round to look behind her right shoulder, there was only thin air.

‘Look, I can’t take any more of this. Either explain what you want me to do, or go away. Otherwise I shall have to move out of here, and don’t think you can stop me.’ It was an empty threat and she knew it, but did he? She hoped not.

A cold invisible hand caressed her cheek as if mocking her defiance.
‘Sweeting, help me
 
…’
The voice was close this time, so close.

A violent shiver went through Melissa. She’d heard those words so many times over the last few months. As long as she remained in the house, there was no escape from them. Or him. She was enthralled, ensnared, enslaved – his prisoner and his only hope.
But hope of what?

‘If only you’d tell me!’

Rain attacked the windowpanes with a ferocity that made Melissa happy to be indoors, and the occasional drops found their way down the chimney to land with a hissing sound in the fire. The dying embers stirred and made a curious rustling noise as they swirled around the hearth. Melissa watched them and waited. Did they herald his appearance? she wondered. Unconsciously, she held her breath, but she remained the room’s only visible occupant and the embers settled down once more.

She slumped in the chair, depression settling over her like a heavy cloak. The ultimatum she had issued was obviously useless. His hold over her was such that she knew she couldn’t break free. And she’d come to love the manor house. It was all she could have wished for in a home and more, and she desperately wanted to stay. Was it really just a few short months since she had first set eyes on the place? It felt like an eternity.

Melissa had coped with a lot during the last two years, but the situation she now found herself in was completely beyond her scope. Desperation welled up inside her, choking her.

‘Please, I beg you, tell me what to do and I’ll be happy to help you.’ She meant it. She would do anything for him, anything at all, if only he would stop tormenting her.

‘Sweeting, help me
 
…’

His voice rang out, strong and clear, circling the room as if projected in stereo surround sound. It came at her from all directions and shook her to the core. She squeezed her eyes shut and felt tears prick her eyelids.

‘Please,’ she whispered, ‘please, no. Don’t do this to me.’

But the words just kept echoing around the walls and Melissa buried her face in her hands and cried.

Some time later, her crying bout at an end, Melissa had to admit defeat. Roger hadn’t done anything except torment her, repeating those three words endlessly, and all hope had died inside her. She would have to resign herself to the fact that she’d never know the answers to her questions, and the only way she could stay sane would be to leave Ashleigh Manor. She had threatened him that she would, and somehow she’d find a way to do it.
If I don’t have the strength to leave of my own accord, I’ll get someone to take me away.

As she leaned her weary head back, her eyelids felt heavy and she nodded off. At one point she opened her eyes and saw a tall, blond figure bending over her solicitously, his hand caressing her hair with infinite gentleness. But she thought he must be a part of a dream and the words he whispered into her ear didn’t register until much later.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Sir Gilbert returned after dark, entering the hall at Ashleigh with a dejected stoop to his shoulders. Sibell looked up from her position by the fire, but said nothing. Instead, he was greeted by Maude and Katherine, who had come over to support her. Their expressions were grave and changed to sorrow when he shook his head in answer to their unspoken question. He sat down in a carved chair and accepted a cup of wine from Katherine.

‘You found nothing at all?’ Maude’s question was more a statement of fact.

‘No.’ The one word said it all, but he continued stating the obvious anyway. ‘Sibell’s brothers have vanished without a trace. Those whoresons probably took the body with them and have dumped it somewhere along the road, perhaps in a river or lake. We won’t find it now.’ He took a deep draught of the wine. ‘But John of Ashleigh is dead, so at least we needn’t worry about Sibell’s safety. I shall leave some men here to keep watch in case any of her brothers return. You won’t come to any more harm, my dear.’ He sighed, then clenched his jaw as he added, ‘And I’ll see to it they’re declared outlaws so that this manor will belong to you from now on. You’ve no other close male kin, have you?’

Sibell shook her head.

‘Good. We have a reliable witness to say your brothers are all murderers. They’ll never dare show their faces here again so they can’t challenge your right to Ashleigh.’

‘But Godwin
 
…’ Sibell began.

‘Has sided with the others, whether he wanted to or not. He’s made his bed and must lie in it.’ It was a harsh verdict, but Sibell didn’t have the strength to argue. And Sir Gilbert was right; Godwin should have remained firm and stayed out of it.

‘Oh, Gilbert
 
…’ Maude came over to lay her arms round his neck and leaned her cheek against his. ‘It is too much. To lose two sons in a year, and in such a manner. I can’t bear it
 
…’ Her voice broke.

Sibell had returned to feeling numb, but Lady Maude’s words made the tears prick her eyelids once more. She saw Katherine surreptitiously wipe a tear off her cheek with her sleeve and blink furiously.

Everyone sat in silence for a while, contemplating the events of the day. Finally, Sir Gilbert stood up and came to stand in front of Sibell.

‘I’m so very sorry I was such a stubborn fool, denying Roger his rightful place until it was too late. He told me he was going to ask for your hand in marriage and you know I would have welcomed you as a daughter-in-law once again. Nothing would have pleased me more.’

‘They were already married,’ Maude interjected.

‘What?’

Maude nodded forlornly. ‘Yes. They’ve been married for nearly two months. Isn’t that right, Sibell?’

‘Yes.’

‘But
 
… How do you know that?’

‘Katherine and I witnessed the plighting of their troth and signed the marriage contract. It is hidden, but I’ll show it to you.’

‘I don’t know why I am surprised. You seem to be vastly more observant than I am.’ He dry-washed his face with a tired sigh. ‘I should have known Roger would make sure everything was done properly. He was a good man.’ He paused before adding, ‘A son to be proud of.’ His voice hoarse, he fought for composure. ‘A shame we had so little time together. What a waste. What a dreadful waste. And for what?’

The answer to his question hung unsaid in the room.

‘Well, I suppose your marriage simplifies matters at least,’ Gilbert continued when he had regained his equilibrium somewhat. ‘You must come and live with us then, Sibell.’

‘Thank you, but no. I want to stay here. If Ashleigh is mine now, it will be my child’s after me. This is where he or she must be born.’ She put a protective hand over her abdomen, where the bump was becoming more noticeable every day. She had yet to feel the first flutters of life, but knew the child inside her was thriving despite everything.

‘Child? Oh, my dear!’ Maude’s eyes lit up with joy. ‘Then all is not lost. A part of Roger remains and you must think of the babe now and be strong.’

‘Yes, you’re right,’ Sibell replied, but she knew a part of her had died this day and although Roger’s child could help ease the pain, she would never feel whole again.

The storm had abated slightly when Melissa woke up, but the rain continued to pound on the tiny windowpanes. The fire was nothing but a heap of smouldering ashes and the room was left in semi-darkness. She stretched to ease her cramped limbs, then stood up and walked purposefully towards the door. Whispered words were echoing around her brain, telling her what to do. Still a bit woozy with sleep, she felt compelled to obey them without question.

‘Yes, yes, I will go out,’ she muttered. There was something she had to do outside. Something important. As an afterthought she ran to her room to fetch the large torch.

Grabbing her Barbour and a rain hat, she quickly put them on before pulling on her rubber boots. The house was dark and still. It felt curiously empty. Melissa locked the door and set off towards the fields, urged on by the voice inside her head. Little rivulets of rain soon poured off her hat and dripped onto her shoulders, but she didn’t notice them. Neither did her mind register the fact that her jeans were soaking wet within minutes. She was focusing on her task.

Jake had just returned from his afternoon surgery, and had barely had time to greet the two girls before the phone rang.

‘Jake? This is Dorothy. Have you seen Melissa?’

‘No, I don’t think she’s here. Hold on, I’ll ask the girls.’ He put a hand over the receiver and relayed the question to Jolie and Amy. ‘No, Dorothy. Jolie says her mum was at home. She was feeling tired apparently. Why do you ask? Perhaps she’s just gone shopping or something.’

‘No, she did that this morning. She told me she was going to rest this afternoon, but when I came back from Anne’s the house was in darkness and the front door locked. As far as I can see her rubber boots are gone and her jacket, but why would she go for a walk in this weather? And she should have been back by now, it’s almost dark.’ Jake could hear the worry in Dorothy’s voice. It was unlike her, and a stab of fear shot through him.

‘She didn’t take the car?’

‘No, it’s still here.’

‘All right. Let me just change quickly, and I’ll go out and look for her. Perhaps she decided to go for a short walk and slipped in the mud or something and sprained an ankle.’