The old black house rose up out of
the moor like a finger warning off all visitors. The steeples slashed into the
cloudy sky and the gargoyle-shaped rain spouts spat water down from their
perches. Marie Norrel
Raven now, good Lord.
didn’t like the look of this house
one bit.
Her opinion of it did not matter,
unfortunately. Much in the fashion of one of those ‘mail-order brides’, she had
been shipped off to be the wife of the mansion’s current owner, Maxwell Raven.
Technically she was his wife already, and the only good thing about that was
the elimination of the ceremony. She had never liked parties, and the idea of
having a massive one like that made her stomach hurt. Besides, she’d never
looked good in white.
The horses did not like the house any
more than she did and the coachman had quite a time of forcing them up to the
door. Marie pretended not to hear the swearing and threats he was hurling at
the poor things.
“Sorry about them, Ma’m.” he said,
once they were stopped. “They never have liked coming up here. Something in the
air, I think.”
Marie shrugged. She thought the place
was cursed. It probably was. There wouldn’t be so many stories about it if it
wasn’t.
Cursed or not, here she was and here
she would stay unless she was lucky enough to get a divorce. Or the house
caught fire. Either of those would be fine.
She was shaking, but when the
coachman caught her eye she mumbled something about being cold. It was cold out here, after all. And the
light drizzle wasn’t making it any better. She wondered if she would forget
what the sun looked like.
The coachman deposited her bags in
the hallway and left to deal with the horses. Marie pulled her coat tightly
around her and looked around.
The hallway was deserted. It was
lined with pictures and a few mirrors, and there was an old oak table by the
door. It had a bowl for cards, but there weren’t any in it. It was dark inside,
with only a few candles throwing shadows on the walls.
No servants came to help her or get
her suitcases and she wondered if she should go into another room. It was cold
in here and she wanted very much to find a nice warm fire.
After a few more minutes, she decided
to explore a little. She lived here after all.
Her footsteps echoed in the hallway.
The sound only intensified her unease and she wished someone else would come.
Surely other people lived here. There was no way she’d gotten the wrong
location, as much as she might have wanted to.
She finally came to a door with an
envelope tacked to it. The envelope had her name on it in bold, flowing script
and she picked it up. What in the world was this?
Hullo, Marie.
If you’ve found this letter, congratulations! You’ve gotten past the
hallway. I’ve been meaning to get that redone, it’s always given me the creeps.
I’m sorry I can’t be here to meet you. Work has always taken up more time
than I would like, but the busy season’s nearing its end. Since you’re probably
bored and mad at me, why don’t you wander around a bit? There’s more notes like
this one scattered around. See if you can find them. It’ll give us something to
discuss besides the weather.
Maxwell
Humph. She was not happy about this,
not one bit. She was supposed to get to know her husband through notes? Really?
Well, it would certainly be an
interesting story someday. Who knew? Maybe they’d have a good laugh about this
twenty years down the road, if they were still married and still getting along.
Assuming they got along in the first place.
She tried the door and found that it
opened. Inside was a very large fire. The room itself seemed to be a parlor or
something. It too was deserted, but there was a tea set on the table, as well
as a small envelope. She picked that up first.
Hullo, Marie.
You like mint tea, don’t you?
Help yourself, I know it’s cold outside. It’s always cold out here, even in the
middle of summer. Get used to it.
You have found the parlor! Good for you. You can leave your coat in here
if you’d like. And don’t worry about your luggage, it’s been brought upstairs.
If you can find it, you can have it back. Don’t worry, it won’t be hard.
Maxwell
Marie did like mint tea. She wondered
if he’d had a lucky guess or something else. It didn’t matter, really.
She poured herself a cup and shrugged
out of her coat. There was no coat rack here and she ended up leaving it on a
wooden chair. It would have to do. If he wanted his furniture safe, he’d
provide a coat rack.
Now, to rescue her suitcases. She
wanted a change of clothes, preferably warmer ones.
She left the room with her teacup and
looked around. The three other doors were closed. At the end of the hall was a
sweeping staircase that looked like it had been taken out of a palace. Who
knew, perhaps it was.
She looked at it. It seemed to go on
and on. It looked sturdy enough, though, and she wanted her suitcase. She would
go up.
The staircase did indeed go on and
on. Or maybe it just felt that way. Whatever the case, she was relieved to
reach a floor with an open door. She was pretty sure it was the third floor. Or
maybe the fourth.
She went into the room and spotted
her suitcases leaning against the wall. Ah, fresh clothes at last! Huzzah!
She shut the door and felt around for
the buttons up the back of her dress. She almost wished someone would show up
to help her out.
It took longer than usual to get the
buttons undone, but that was probably because her hands were shaking. After a
few minutes, she had her dress off. She felt very exposed, standing in here
practically naked. Hopefully the door had a good lock.
Once she was dressed again, she
combed her hair out of her face a bit and looked around the room. It was a very
nice one, all done up in blacks and reds and golds. There was no sign that
anyone else lived in this room and for that she was grateful.
There was another envelope stuck in
the mirror frame and she went to take it out. What did he have to say this
time? That this mirror was a two-way?
Hullo, Marie.
You have found your way to your-our? We’ll talk about it later-bedroom. I
hope you like it. It’s about…six, I think, so if you want to make your way to
the dining room downstairs there’ll be something warm for you.
Maxwell
Sure enough, the clock downstairs
chimed six. How had he known what time it would be? That was a little
disturbing, actually.
Disturbing or not, she was hungry and she went downstairs to
seek out the dining room.
It took her ten minutes to find
it-why was this house so blasted huge?-and when she did, it was empty. She was
relieved about that. After finding all those strange little notes, she wasn’t
really prepared to meet Maxwell Raven quite yet. She didn’t even know what he
looked like, for heaven’s sake! All she knew about him had come from the
papers, and that information was scarce.
There was a steaming teapot on one
end of the table, accompanied by-surprise, surprise-a white envelope. She sat
down, wondering again at the lack of servants, and picked it up.
Hullo again, Marie.
You have reached the end of the line! Well, for today. It’s getting late.
Hopefully these notes haven’t made you too upset at me. Work, remember?
Hopefully we…
“Can get to know each other as time
goes on. Maxwell.”
The sudden voice had startled her and
she jumped, the paper fluttering to the floor.
The owner of the voice was standing
right behind her, leaning over her shoulder. Presumably this was Maxwell-the
black hair was a dead giveaway.
“Hullo, Marie.”
Yes. This was the writer of the
little notes and the cause of her nerves. She would admit, earlier she’d
entertained giving him what-for for not meeting her when she arrived. Now,
though, she could barely squeak out a “M-Maxwell Raven?”
He nodded and looked her up and down.
She knew she should stand up, but she thought that if she did she might fall.
No, sitting was the best option right now.
“Pleasure to meet you at last.” he
said. “Sorry for the notes. They’ve always told me I was a bit dramatic.”
They? Who was they? Never mind, she
didn’t really want to know.
“I-it’s fine.”
He flopped into the chair beside her
and tapped his glass. Out of nowhere, a somberly-dressed man darted out with a
tray in hand. Where had he been all this time?
Maxwell shook his head when the man
made to place something in front of him.
“I’m not hungry, Edgar. Don’t
bother.”
“Very good, Sir.”
Marie had started out hungry, but now
her stomach was too knotted up to accept anything except tea. Even the tea
tasted a little strange.
“So.” Oh, Lord. Conversation time.
She hadn’t been looking forward to this, not one bit. “Your trip up was
acceptable, I hope?”
“Very nice.” she lied. “Very smooth.”
He laughed and leaned back.
“Mind if I smoke?”
As if she would say anything if she
did!
“No, not at all.”
“Good.” He toyed with his lighter for
a few minutes before touching it to his cigarette. “Smooth, hm? Lucky you.
Every time I came back from school the path hadn’t been redone and I’d end up
being knocked around.”
Funny, that had happened to her.
She’d wondered if the path had ever been redone, to be honest.
“I meant the first part.”
“Thought so.”
She was at a loss for words and
instead prodded the soup. Onion. She liked onion. Either Maxwell knew more
about her than she did about him, or he liked a lot of the same things. She
hoped it was the latter.
“Maxwell…”
“Max.” he corrected. “I’ve never gone
by Maxwell except at school.”
“Max.” she said. “Where was everyone
earlier?”
“I was busy and the servants were on
the upper floors. Why?”
“Just curious. For a moment I thought
I had the wrong address.”
“Ah. No, you have arrived at the
right place. I hope you have warm clothes in those trunks of yours, because
it’s cold most of the year here. And wet.”
Oh, great. It wasn’t that she didn’t
like the rain, but she hated being cold. The heating had gone out once and
she’d insisted on staying at school over the break while it was being fixed. That
had been almost as bad as freezing.
“I think so.”
“Good. If not, go shopping or
something.”
Well! That was a rather nice change.
Her father, rich or not, had never been too pleased to send them shopping ‘just
because’. Maybe this wouldn’t be so horrible after all.
They sat in silence for the next few
minutes, then Maxwell stubbed his cigarette out and stood up.
“I hate to leave you so soon, but I
have to take a short trip. I’ll be back sometime next week and then we can get
to know each other better. Get used to the house or something.”
“A-all right.”
She didn’t dare ask him where he was
going. It wasn’t any of her business, obviously, or he would have told her. Her
father always hated being asked silly questions. ‘If I don’t tell you, mind
your own.’ he always said.
“Oh, before I leave…keep off the
moor. It’s not that I mind you going out, but it’s a bit of a death trap. If
you fall into the mire, good luck getting out.”
“Thank you for the warning.”
“If you need anything, ring the bell.
The servants will help you if you get lost or something.”
Before she could say anything else,
he’d left. After a moment, she heard the front door open and close. There was
no sign that he’d been there except for the stubbed-out cigarette and the
lingering smell of smoke.
* * *
Marie finished her dinner around six
forty-five and went upstairs to take a nice hot bath. Maybe that would warm her
up. The chill that had settled over her when she first reached the moor simply
would not leave.
The bath was nice but all too soon
the water grew cold and she had to get out. What a pity. Ah, well. At least she
had a little bit of time to get used to this place before Maxwell came back.
Maxwell…she didn’t understand him.
She wondered if he would be always be like this, all dark and mysterious and
gone all the time. She didn’t know which was worse: marrying a man like her
father or marrying one who seemed to be his polar opposite. She supposed she
would find out.
The sheets on the bed were soft and
someone had slipped in and placed a bed warmer under the mattress. She wondered
when that had happened and decided she’d find out in the morning.
She couldn’t sleep and she ended up
switching the lamp on to read. She was working on a new adventure novel-one of
those ‘lost world’ types that were so popular nowadays-and she had just reached
the big lizards. What crazy ideas people could come up with!
It was raining again and she could hear the
wind battering against the old mansion. She wondered if this place was sturdy.
It creaked and groaned like an old horse and she hoped it was stronger than it
sounded.
There was a crack of thunder and the
light flickered. Great. Now she couldn’t even read! She put her book down while
she could still see the nightstand. Now what
was she supposed to do?
Her question was answered by another
clap of thunder. The lamp went out and she tugged the blankets up over her
head. She didn’t like it here, not one bit.
She’d been lying there for about half
an hour when the rain finally began to slow. The lamp flickered back to life. Thank
goodness.
Lamp or no lamp, Marie didn’t feel
any more at ease. As such, she spent the rest of the night looking around the
room and wishing with all her heart that morning would come soon.
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