House of Glass (6 page)

“Only stories about the house,” I said.

“Take care that you don’t believe everything you hear.” I think there was more than a warning in his voice; there was almost a plea. “You might hear dark things about me,” he whispered, and for just a brief second his face lost its hardness and looked weathered.

It was right at that moment that the terrace doors opened and Mrs. Amber announced dinner, and I broke away from Mr. St. Claire, returning the tray to its position for serving. I hoped that I looked unruffled.

Conversation at dinner was unhurried. Everyone was in good spirits and I wondered how these men could change so fast from discussions that rose to anger and then back again to the old stories of lifelong buddies. Mr. Azoulay entertained the men with a tale from his stop in Antarctica, and then the men retired to the study for drinks. Annie and I were relieved of our duties and when we walked back to our quarters, she confronted me.

“I see what you’re about,” she whispered angrily. “Talking to him, whispering to him.”

“What?” I said, my heart thumping.

“Maybe you’re only talking now, but I know what you are thinking. I see it in your eyes.” She was very animated, and had stopped in the hallway, pushing her finger into my face. “I have worked here for five years, and you can’t just show up and mess everything up. If you do, I’ll catch you, and I’ll turn you in faster than you can say ‘Devlin Manor’ and you’ll be out of this house for good.”

I was a bit in shock and didn’t quite know what to say.

She walked away, and left me in the cold, dark hallway.

I crept after her and found Mrs. Amber in the kitchen. After a quick meal, she led me to my room and locked the door, and the key in my pocked burned against my skin. If Mrs. Amber couldn’t stop me, Annie surely couldn’t.

It took forever for the house to quiet, for the night air to turn cold. I entertained myself with thoughts of the glass house and my pulse quickened at the allure of it. Going inside the glass house was like entering a diamond cave. Forbidden. Impossible.

When the crickets stilled and when I could feel the already cold and damp air thicken with the mists, I opened my window and climbed out onto the sill. The day might belong to the hard work of my hands, but the night belonged to my desires. I dropped from the window, the rough stone scraping my skin.

I wore only a nightgown and clutched the key in my hand.My feet were bare and pounded the grass as I flew over the lawn. Soon there was a shape beside me, a silver-white form. It was the dog that I had seen the other night. I stopped for a moment and patted her head, while she panted wildly.

I decided to name her Maxie. As I petted her, I noticed her swollen belly. There would be pups soon. I made a mental note to save scraps for her the next time I was outside. She followed me until I reached the cliff and then she ran off.

The torches on the stairs were still lit and I flew past each one, my gown trailing in the wind behind me. The light of the torches darkened the world outside of their reach, so I could not see beyond my footsteps. I came upon the house suddenly, and it was ghostly in the darkness, almost invisible. It was dark and quiet.

I lifted my hand and placed it on one of the double doors and when I felt the warmth of the glass, I hurriedly pulled the key from my pocket and slipped it into the door; the sound of the click in the barrel was music to my ears.

The door opened. The room was lit through the glass by the moon and the world before me looked like it was immersed in a watery pool of silver light. I stepped forward into the room, into the shimmering light, which wound and danced with the darker shadows. I felt as if I were on the bottom of the ocean floor.

I found a few candles and lit them. The silver tones of the room turned the flames fuzzy, and ringed them in colorful halos of light. A memory came rushing back to me of when I was a small girl and I swam all day in the ocean. That night when I returned to land, my eyes were reddened, and every candle, every light I looked at had a fuzzy outline and a halo, sometimes two or three halos. It was the same effect. I took a few steps and even my footfalls sounded like they were underwater.

Heading straight to her room, I shed my nightgown as I walked, glad to be free of the simple cotton dress. I was completely nude, the only thing that touched my body was the shell necklace, and I hesitated for only a moment before I slipped it from my neck and dropped it onto my nightgown.

My steps were purposeful, daring Lucas to jump from the shadows. Daring Celeste to try to stop me. I went to the dress that hung on the wall, the silvery sheen beckoning me. I grabbed it and threw it over my head, and it slid over my body like a second skin.

I looked in the closet and find a pair of jewel-encrusted heels. The heel was so delicate, so thin, that I was certain it wouldn’t hold me. I put on one shoe then the other, and they fit perfectly. I stood, and once I did every part of my figure was thrust in the right direction. I felt complete. I felt powerful.

I sauntered into the main room. The light played on my dress, coloring it blue one moment, reddish the next. I noticed the light in the room had changed; it was warmer, more reddish than before.

It was the light in the house that I loved the most. The realization came to me in a rush. The light changed all the time, but it still illuminated everything, chased away secrets and fears, and distracted the eyes in a million directions. It was addicting.

I felt a presence and looked up to see Lucas standing there, staring at me openmouthed. I was not at all surprised, but rather thrilled.

He stood in the doorway, the torches burning behind him. We faced each other and the silence stretched between us.

Finally, he made a soft noise, almost a laugh, mocking me. “You’re playing a game. A dangerous one.”

I chose my next words carefully. “I’m not playing.” There was a certainty to my words that I didn’t have a moment before. My eyes, which did not move away from his, proved my point.

This seemed to inflame him, and his voice was low, but the order carried very clearly across the room. “Take off the dress.”

“Fine.” I say the word so easily, but still do not move to remove the dress. Rather, I step toward my nightgown, and lean to pick it up.

“No.”

I stop and look at him.

“The dress, take it off. Now.”

“No.”

“You sit on my estate, in my wife’s cottage, with her clothes on your skin, and you refuse me?” He stood with the same stance that I remembered from earlier that day, when I was scrubbing the floors.

Wasn’t he offering me exactly what I wanted?

I met his gaze, and slowly slid my fingers beneath the strap of the gown. I pushed it from my shoulder and let the silver dress slide across my skin and land in my hand where it pooled loosely. I tossed the dress across the room, and it slid, coming to rest exactly halfway between Lucas and me.

He was silent, and his eyes were roaming my body, resting on my eyes, and then returning again to my body.

I took a step in his direction, the heels tapping on the glass as I moved.

Lucas filled the doorway, his wide shoulders almost touching each side of the frame. His eyes held mine. The desire on his face was obvious.

I walked right up to him and stood before him. Inches away from him, completely nude. The wind from the open door rushed by my skin. I stood there, just in front of Mr. St. Claire, poised between the glass house and the outside world, flaunting everything, daring him to touch me.

There was a restrained, almost angry look on his face, as if the slightest touch would unleash a storm.

I leaned forward and pressed my breasts against him.

A ferocity came from within him and like a hurricane he slammed into me, pushing me back into the house. We tumbled to the floor. My hands slid under his shirt and I yanked, delighting in my strength when I heard soft pops and the buttons clattering across the floor.

Then it was his skin against mine. My body arching in response to his touch.

I noticed that it was night. There is a black sheet of darkness all around the house. With the light from the candles behind us, the glass is suddenly a mirror and I look up to see a reflection of us. I see a thousand reflections of us, one on top of another, images from every angle, of Lucas poised above me, supreme and in control.

He was behind me, and pulled me upward, watching in the mirror as he dragged his hand across my breasts. “I hate this house,” he said, “but my God you make it worth it.”

He pushed me forward, to my hands and knees. Every part of me wanted him, was ready for him. He drove into me and the sight of him in the mirror, the perfect planes of his body, all of it made me wild despite the stab of pain I felt.

He moved faster and faster until, in an agony of pleasure, he grabbed my hips and roared loudly before collapsing on top of me, covering me in his sweat.

It was as if a brief wild storm had passed over us and then was gone. We were drenched in sweat. The house was so hot I felt almost suffocated, and for the first time, strangely afraid. I could see the faint pink of the sun rising in the east.

The couches, the tables, everything seemed different with the light of day looming.

“I have to go,” I said, unsure of so many things.

He untangled his fingers from my hair.

There was no time to waste. I really had to go. Dawn was just moments away. I jumped up and ran to my nightgown. As I lifted it over my head, the shell necklace tumbled from inside the folds and clattered to the ground. I quickly tossed the nightgown over my head and scooped up the necklace. As I left I glanced at him, and in my last image of him he was putting on his shirt, watching me with a dark expression on his face.

Chapter Four

I was not sure what shocked me more—the fact that I almost lost my life or that Lucas St. Claire showed me a great kindness.

It was an overcast morning, and dark, fast-moving clouds pushed one after another over the island. There were brief, intense showers all morning, and when the sun finally made an appearance, Mrs. Amber pulled me aside from my duties.

“Reyna, go to the stables and meet Alexander. There is a boat coming and we need to bring the cart down to the dock.” She paused for a moment. “You can drive a cart, can’t you?”

“Of course,”

“The men will unload and load, help if you can, but you’ll need to drive the cart up and down the road all afternoon, if the weather allows it.”

Alexander was waiting for me at the stable. He was an older man, with rough, tanned hands and white hair. He flashed a gap-toothed smile and led me to the cart. The cart was being pulled by a brown mare. The mare twitched her ears and stomped her feet.

“You’ll have to nudge her along, she’s stubborn, but she’ll get the job done. Knows the route so well, she could do it in her sleep, so it should be easy for you.”

He handed me the reins, gave the mare a pat on the rear and we were off. The cart left the open grass of the estate and ambled between the gates and onto the dark road that led down to the water. There was a sweet and damp smell to the road, and I could hear the water dripping from tree leaves in the overgrowth.

A switchback was just ahead, and as we passed by it, I peeked down the steep ravine below. The land had disappeared into a crevice of small trees and tumbling green vines that led into the shadows. A juvenile fear rose inside me, of falling into that deep and wild space, and I felt my heart beat faster. When another switchback appeared, I looked stoically ahead, refusing to entertain such a foolish thought. There were breaks in the trees and I saw the ocean here and there, and I focused on that instead.

When I reached the dock, the men were waiting for me. There was a large boat, with many boxes already unloaded, and men were carrying even more down the gangway. I had no idea what was in the boxes, but they were nailed tightly shut and handled with great care. My cart was loaded quickly, and I started back up the hill. The mare was considerably more irritable on the way back to Devlin Manor. More than once, I had to urge her along, clicking at her and rustling the reins. Once the first switchback was behind us, the horse settled into a rhythm and we finally reached the top.

It still had not rained, and I turned the cart around to head down again.

The mare was happy with an empty load, and her pace was quick. I am ashamed now to say that I encouraged her, and soon the cart was bouncing along the road. Even though it was summer, my speed was quick enough that the breeze gave me chills on my skin and whistled in my ears. Shadows and sunshine flickered over me until I was almost blind.

It happened so fast.

Just before the switchback, a cloud of mist appeared. The appearance of mists in the deep foliage on the mountainside was not unusual, but as my mare and cart passed through it, an uneasy feeling came over me, and just a second later the mare squealed in fear. Later, I would reflect on that experience, on that mist, and mull over the possible causes in my mind, but at that moment, things happened too fast to contemplate.

The horse panicked and turned sharply. I had only a moment to prepare before the cart slanted over the edge. It was just a minor tilt, and the mare pulled the cart free. But it was too late for me. I went sailing into the air and down into the void of the crevasse.

Down I went, until the ground exploded beneath me and the vines clamored over me, hungry and clinging, and they swallowed me whole. Everything was dark. Sound was muffled. I screamed like a person trapped alive in a tomb. Pushing, pulling and clawing with my hands, my only thought was to get out of the darkness. But there was nothing, no response, only the indifferent call of the birds to each other. It was too awful and I screamed and clawed at the earth, trying to get free.

Suddenly there was movement beside me. The vines were yanked away, pulled back to reveal Lucas St. Claire.

He was looking at me with shock. He was completely still, his chiseled face roving over my body and eyes, and when he finally spoke, his tone was flat and apologetic. “I…I thought …you sounded just like her.”