In the Shadows (The Blaisdell Chronicles) (5 page)

“Hello, Lucy,” she said with a smile, although her bitter tone betrayed her.

I felt Sarah’s hand touch my arm, a silent warning.

“You really
are beautiful, aren’t you, Lucy? I hear Steven thinks so too. Haven’t you heard he’s planning to ask you out?”

I tried to ignore the jealous twang
in Rachel’s voice, and turned back to my locker, pretending to look for something.

She leaned in closer, whispering in my ear. “But if you’re so beautiful, why do you keep yourself covered?”

My fingers gripped the locker door and my heart thudded in my chest. I was unable to let go. Before I knew it, Rachel had yanked my scarf off my neck. I tried to reach it, but she held it back, waving it around to taunt me. Everyone saw what I’d been hiding, and Rachel looked like she’d finally earned her long awaited prize.

“Look, everyone! Lucy isn’t the beauty she’s led us all to believe!”

“Beauty?” chorused one of Rachel’s minions. “More like beast!”

“Wait till Steven hears about this!” added the other. “He won’t want her now!”

There were whispers and looks from the others, but it was Sarah’s furrowed brow that cut deeply. I could almost hear her silent words.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Did you think I wouldn’t understand?”

My gaze lowered, her pain too much for me to bear. I hadn’t told anyone why I wore the scarves, even my best friend. I’d always claimed they were a fashion statement, but now she knew the truth. I couldn’t say anything right now, as tears clogged my throat. She wouldn’t be my friend anymore.

The jeers and laughter continued.
Sarah stomped past me, shoving a surprised Rachel against the lockers.

I couldn’t let this happen. Not again.

“How dare you put your hands on me!”
Rachel spat out. “Release me at once!”

“Apologise to Lucy! Now!”

“Never! The little wretch has had this coming a long time!”

I tried to stop her, but Sarah elbowed me away, without letting
Rachel go.

Everyone was crowding round, chanting “Fight, fight, fight!” Sarah yanked
Rachel’s plait, once again demanding she apologise.

“You’re going to regret this! You have no idea what I’m capable of!”

Sarah shook her head. “I’ve taken on scarier bullies than you.”

Everyone except Sarah gasped, when
Rachel spat in Sarah’s face.

Instead, she was e
nraged. Sarah knocked her to the ground, and the fight escalated. Soon they were separated by two teachers, and taken to see the head, much to the crowd’s dismay.

I’d waited outside Mr Owen’s office for what seemed like an eternity. When the door finally opened, only
Rachel came out, walking past me. I tried ignoring her, but she called my name.

I turned round to see a cruel smile twist
Rachel’s lips.

“This isn’t over.”

Sarah left the office, but wouldn’t speak to me. I decided to try to make amends and spoke to Mr Owen on Sarah’s behalf, but it all fell on deaf ears. He had had enough of Sarah always getting into fights, no matter the reason why.

I tried apologising to Sarah on the phone that night. I didn’t want to be the reason for her being expelled. I wanted to explain myself, make her see why I’d not said anything before. But I couldn’t find the right excuse. There was no excuse. She’d been very quiet and eventually hung up on me
. Once our exams were over, her father got a job in Australia, and her whole family emigrated. I never returned to school.

Jen gave me a small smile. “I’m sorry you went through that. It must have been tough. But you needn’t worry about that scar. It’s easily fixed with makeup. That way, you won’t need to keep wearing those silly scarves.”

I quickly put my scarf back on; annoyed she thought it mattered so little. “Makeup fades.”

Jen’s face brightened. “I know someone who might be able to help you. I’ll ask her.”

I groaned audibly, finding my lip balm in my other pocket, and turned to face the mirror. I’d already told Mum I didn’t need to speak to a psychologist. Besides, I’d already made some progress in turning my life around. Before I could politely refuse, I heard her leave. I put the lip balm away and stared at my reflection. As I smoothed my long, poker straight brown hair down, the image in front of me began to change. It flashed between my reflection and somebody else’s, until it finally stayed on someone with my hazel eyes, yet my hair was in loose, brown waves and my uniform had changed into a cream, high waist dress. One long, gloved hand reached for the mirror and opened her mouth.

“Lucy.”

I feel something begin to grow within my heart that I’ve not experienced before. I find myself wanting to rise in the morning, hoping for the chance to see him again. I wear my lilac day gown, hoping he’ll notice. I haven’t realised my happiness has been so outwardly displayed; until my former governess turned maid speaks up.

“What amuses you, child?” she asks, her tone tinged with haughtiness.

Gazing up, I notice how far we have walked in my father’s estate. Beyond the trees lay the grounds where I’d seen him only yesterday.

“Nothing, Edith.”

Edith’s hands clasp her waist, outwardly groaning. “Ever since you were a child, you’ve always been a nuisance. I’ll be a happy woman the day you finally leave to get married. Until then, I have better things to do with my time than listen to your prattling. Why don’t you stay out of trouble? That way, we’ll both be happy.”

I thank her, but Edith is already heading to the gates to speak to a short man carrying a crate of something, which smells like fish. My feet begin to skip along with my heartbeat, as I make for the trees. I stop and nervously peer around. I press my lips together when I see nobody is there, but my ears prick at the sound of gushing water nearby. I walk towards the noise and it grows louder and there in front of me I see a man sitting on a rock, his back to me, arm moving at the side. I tilt my head slightly and realise he’s sketching. Hoping to catch a glimpse, I move closer, but my careless footstep on a twig makes it snap. He immediately stands and spins around, dropping the paper he’s been drawing on and clutches a sword I haven’t seen lying in front of him.

His head falls forward, hair cascading over his eyebrows. It is then I notice the gold flecks in his locks, brightened by the dazzle from the sun’s rays. My pulse skitters.

“My lady.”

“Excuse me, sir,” I reply, slowly curtseying. “I did not mean to intrude on your privacy. I will leave.”

“Wait,” he says, dropping his sword into the grass beside him and holding his hand up, fingertips smudged black. “You were not intruding, my lady. I thought you might have been someone else.”

“I am sorry to have caused disappointment.”

“Forgive me, my lady. I thought my trainer had returned for more sword practicing. I would prefer your company instead, although...it is wrong of me to ask.”

“Who are you, sir?”

He hesitates before answering. “I am hardly considered worthy of knowing you, my lady.”

“What little you know. My father, the Earl of Briggstow, is losing money.”

He looks up, surprised. It is unseemly to speak so freely in front of a stranger, yet it doesn’t concern me I am confessing this. Something in my heart tells me I can trust him.

“Is that true?”

“Oh, yes. He’s gambled and drank away most of my grandfather’s fortune. That’s why he’s forcing me to marry someone with wealth.”

He studies me with a serious gaze. “I had heard he wants you to marry, but I was unaware this was his reasoning. I’m sorry to hear this.”

Something in his tone makes me feel like he means his words.

“Who are you, sir? I find it unfair you know my name, yet I know not a thing of you.”

“My name is Jonathan
Macey, the son of Miss Victoria Macey and Lord Henry Morrigan, the late Earl of Sulis,” he replies with a bow.

I am baffled. “You are the new Earl of Sulis?”

He shakes his head. “That title belongs to my half brother. I am the result of a relationship between my mother and the former earl.”

I am stunned into silence, observing his faded clothes not fit for a gentleman of his status. He notices my concern.

“Rest assured, my lady. My father has provided for my mother and I with some means. But she has passed away and I now live alone.”

“I am sorry to hear of your loss.”

He smiles faintly, but presses on. “I’m sure you remember my presence at your father’s ball last week. I had hopes of finally being accepted into society, but it wasn’t to be. I should have expected it, though. I am just a by-blow, after all. No wonder people turn the other way when they see me.”

Despite the time of year, the air is still warm, and the sun is still high, without a single cloud in sight. The gentle rush of the river flows behind him and the slightest hint of a warm breeze touches my bare skin. Mr
Macey shifts uncomfortably, but I doubt he’d rather be elsewhere.

I incline my head at the paper and charcoal, now lying in the grass beside the sword.

“May I see your drawing? Please?”

He shrugs, and hands me the paper. Although in the early stages, I can see the outline of a beautiful woman, with eyes the same shape as his. Even from these carefully drawn lines, I can tell it’s someone he loves dearly.

“Is this your mother?”                                

He takes the paper back, his brow furrowing. “How did you know?”

My cheeks suddenly redden. “Lucky guess.”

He makes a non-committal grunt, folds the paper and places it in his overcoat pocket.

“I have a passion for drawing, although my father disagrees. True gentlemen are strong heroes, especially any son of his. Even a by-blow.”

I shake my head, ready to argue, but my eyes are drawn to the sword in the grass.

“You were sparring again?” I say, my lace gloved hand indicating the sword.

“My father had hopes for me to join the army to fight the French, but despite the aid of his former trainer, I’ve not inherited his skills. I fear I’ll not become a man, unless I learn.”

I study his face, his jawline free from the usual stubble men his age possesses. With his baby-faced countenance, I remember his cut skin from before, a sign of his lack of prowess with the sword. Crouching down, I reach for the sword, and stand, holding it up, twirling it around so the sunlight beams its rays on it, making it shine like jewels. Jonathan’s eyes flicker with panic, reaching for the hilt.

“Careful with that, my lady.”

“Swords equal pain, violence, even death,” I reply, ignoring his concern. “Is this what I would marry into? A man skilled only with the sword, yet not in the arts of friendship, understanding... love?”

He pauses, reflecting on my words. I inch closer, passing the hilt into his hand.

“Swords do not make the man, Mr Macey.”

I walked down a dank side street with Jen, heading towards the nightclub. I could already hear the pounding music, and as we entered without the need for I.Ds, the noise grew louder. I’d hesitated to accept Jen’s offer of a night out, but after a busy week at work, I’d agreed that we’d earned the time to let off some steam. Excitedly, we’d gone shopping during our lunch break, whilst Mr Whitmore reluctantly covered for us. She didn’t have enough for another dress, but I managed to scrimp enough to buy one for myself. As soon as I saw the colour, I knew I had to have it. It was lilac, an almost identical shade to the dress in my dream, although the style differed. Instead of the puffball sleeves and high empire waistline, it was sleeveless, and the satin material reached to just above my knees. A cream coloured scarf graced my neck, which met with Jen’s disapproval, but she was just happy we were going out.

Jen seemed to know quite a few people in the club, inclining her head and waving her hand, as we weaved our way through the heavy throng of bodies, stopping on the odd occasion for a quick chat. Finally, we made it to the bar area, and Jen ordered us a couple of cocktails, pulling a note from her purse. After a brief sniff, I took a sip. It was icy cold,
with a slight tang that lingered on my tongue. Jen had already downed her drink, sighed with satisfaction and ordered another. She was wearing the same plunging cobalt blue dress again, already calling it her ‘Lucky Dress,’ after telling me how many guys were admiring her when she wore it to the Halloween party at the weekend. Apparently, I should have been there. She hadn’t needed to buy a drink all night. I glanced down at Jen’s black stiletto heels. Now, she almost matched my height. I had no need for heels at five feet seven inches, and wore a pair of simple flat shoes instead, choosing comfort over fashion. It was much more practical for dancing anyway. Jen toyed with her phone and spoke in my ear.

“You know I said someone might be able to help you? Her name is
Ellen and she’s coming here tonight.”

I rolled my eyes, as she met my gaze. I tried calling above the noise. “I don’t need a shrink.”

She shook her head. “Ellen’s not a shrink.”

Jen grabbed my hands and pulled me back into the crowd, leaving me only just enough time to
place my glass back on the bar. Finally finding a small space on this sardine tin of a dance-floor, we began dancing to the music. It seemed to come naturally to Jen, and already she was being admired by a couple of guys. The dress hadn’t lost any of its luck. Leaving her to their smiles, I decided to allow my body to be controlled by the beat of the music, the disco lights flashing rainbow colours everywhere. I’d never felt so free before. I had no idea if I was doing it right, but at that moment, I didn’t care. I was so caught up in dancing, that I was startled when someone tapped my shoulder from behind. Alex stood before me, wearing denim jeans and a shirt, the top buttons left undone. His smile made me reach for something to hold onto, but I ended up slipping. He swooped in, taking me into his arms before I hit the floor. We were so close I could feel his heart beating against my chest.

“Are you all right?” he asked, raising his voice so he could be heard above the noise.

“I’m fine. Thanks.”

“I didn’t know you’d be here. But I’m glad you are.”

I hid my embarrassment by turning away. “Jen’s here too.” I frowned, unable to see her. “At least, she was.”

I looked to where Alex was pointing past my shoulder. She was sat on a bar stool, smiling brightly at the guys who had been dancing with her. Now she was laughing, playfully pushing one of them on the shoulder. She appeared happy, and unaware of Alex’s presence. Perhaps she felt nothing for him after all.

“Come dance with me.”

I regarded Alex, his
chocolate brown eyes glinting hopefully. It wasn’t the politest way to ask, but I couldn’t help but accept his request. Alex had an air of confidence in himself when he danced. I knew other girls would fall for him, and immediately thought of Rachel. I shook it off, realising no good would come of dwelling on the past. I had a chance to have some fun, and I intended to enjoy myself.

Alex took my hand and the skin-to-skin contact jostled something inside me. The room began to spin, as images from my past returned. I saw Jonathan behind a metal pole, which changed into a stone pillar. He was too far away, but somehow, I could hear him.

“
Don’t leave. Stay with me
.
”

“Lucy?”

It was Alex who’d said my name, and I realised his hand was still on mine. He was leading me somewhere, and Jonathan’s voice kept ringing in my ears, until my head throbbed. Everything stopped when Alex released me, and I found myself sat in a booth, away from the music and throng on the dance-floor.

“What happened out there?” he asked in a normal voice. “You looked like you were going to collapse.”

My fingers met my temples, gently rubbing them. What on earth was going on? “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, you said that earlier. I’ll go and get you some water. Wait here.”

I hid my face in my hands, unable to remove Jonathan from my mind. Was he here? I had to find him. But when I stood, my vision blurred and I sat down again. I needed Jen, but I wouldn’t be able to reach her without help. I closed my eyes, wincing at the throbbing pain left in my head. Was I hallucinating? Or had Jonathan just stepped out from my dreams? I had to find out.

A touch on my forehead made me jump. A woman in a long black dress, with red hair
in a thick plait hanging over her shoulder, stood over me. She was probably a handful of years older than me, and she was very beautiful. Bright violet eyes regarded me.

“Feeling better?”

I reached for my head, finding the pain was almost gone. I nodded.

She
took a seat opposite, hands clasped together on the table. “Good, although I already knew you were. But that is only a small part of my talents. I’m a friend of Jen’s. My name is Ellen.”

Wait, had she just stopped my headache?
If she did just help me, then what did that make Ellen?

“
Why not ask Jen if you need more reassurance?” she pressed on.

She pulled out a pen and a small piece of paper from her pocket and began to write something. “I’ve known about you for a long time, Lucy. I know what you’ve been through. I know about your pain; how you try to hide it from others.”

Her truthfulness made me at a loss of words, but I pushed it aside. Did she really know? Or was she just trying to lure me into telling her? There were fake psychics out there who claimed to know things, but actually relied on sneaky techniques for you to tell them about yourself instead. Was that what she was? Despite my hesitance, I was intrigued.

“Your aura is pure, but there are clouds around you trying to blind your judgment. You ignore your inner voice.”