The Revenant (17 page)

I read the first few lines, then skipped down to the signature. My stomach convulsed. I read the letter all the way through.

Dearest Charles
,

You have not done right by me, failing to meet me at our usual place and time after refusing to set a date for our wedding. I can live with this secrecy no longer. It is a slow poison that devours a little more of my heart each day. Soon enough our secret will be
obvious to everyone, so please let us make our love known before scandal tarnishes it forever. I have given you everything, and all I wish in return is to take care of you. I will leave school so that we can be married. You cannot wish me to go home and confess how I have been used and abandoned by a man whom everyone respects and admires
.

Meet me Friday night at our usual place. If you don’t come, I will have no choice but to go to Miss Crenshaw and explain why I cannot continue at the seminary
.

Yours forever
,
Ella
                

Hardly knowing what I was doing, I slipped the letter into my bodice. Then I carefully set the book at the back of the shelf and placed the volume of Plutarch in front of it. As I did, I heard footsteps behind me.

I turned to see Dr. Charles Stewart standing in the doorway.

Chapter 21

H
E STOOD VERY STILL
, his expression unreadable. Had he seen which book I returned to the shelf? Was the spine of the Plutarch properly aligned with all the others? Or did it protrude, betraying me? I dared not look. If he didn’t already know what I’d done, he certainly would begin to suspect if I looked at that book.

I breathed in slowly and forced a smile. “You have such a lovely library. I could spend days on end here!” My voice was pitched a little too high—I hoped it did not ring false.

After a moment—a span of time that could have been an eternity but was probably only a few seconds—his mouth widened into a charming smile. “As I said before, my wife planned everything about this house. The study was her special gift to me.” He stepped forward, and I willed myself not to back away. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

He reached out and touched my temple, tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear. His eyes were deep blue, and for a moment it seemed he meant to kiss me. And despite what I’d just read, it seemed I was about to let him. He leaned in, but his lips went to my ear rather than my mouth.

“The girls are ready to perform their scenes,” he murmured.

I gasped. “Of course! I got lost in your books and completely forgot.”

He offered his arm, and I stepped forward to wrap my own around it, praying the letter in my bodice would make no crinkling sounds as I moved. Its sharp corners poked my flesh. Had he seen it when he leaned in? Could he see it now? His shoulders were relaxed and he smiled pleasantly, but when I glanced briefly at his face, I thought there were tiny beads of perspiration lining his upper lip.

For the rest of the evening, I was in a daze. The girls had prepared three short scenes and performed them well, with only minor missteps or forgotten lines. There was much laughter, and usually at the appropriate places, but I couldn’t bring myself to pretend the same amusement.
Let them believe the director’s grim face is from nervousness
, I thought.

I watched Fannie closely. Her former coolness was gone, for she now searched out the doctor’s eyes when she wasn’t performing. He kept his face trained on the other actresses, never once meeting her gaze. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder. Was she his next target among the students? Was she being misled just as Ella had been before her death? Surely not. Fannie, the only living daughter of the doctor’s wealthy benefactor, was the perfect replacement for her dead sister. Ella, on the other hand, had been a poor nobody.

The thought that he might have killed Ella sent a cold chill down my spine, for I couldn’t imagine him hurting a young woman. Perhaps, despite what Lucy said, he’d driven her to suicide. If that were so, who had done violence to Cale?

And why had Eli lied about the telegram he received from Cale?

It was all too much—I couldn’t make sense of it.

As the girls took their bows, I rehearsed the moment in the library over and over in my mind but could not be sure the doctor had seen what I’d done. It was possible the book was in place before he saw me. He had behaved in a perfectly pleasant manner. He had not seemed disturbed, aside from the perspiration on his lip. And that could be attributed to the warmth of so many people in a small house.

But it was only a matter of time before he discovered the letter was missing. He would know what had happened then.

And he would have to do something about me.

Olivia took my arm as we made our way to the wagonettes. “You seem distracted, Willie. In fact, you went quite pale as the girls were performing.” She gave me a gentle squeeze. “You shouldn’t worry—they did just fine.”

I leaned over to whisper in her ear. “Come to my room later—I have something to show you.” She opened her mouth to speak, but I held up my hand. “We can’t talk about it here.”

As I waited in my room for the school to settle into the quiet of late evening, my mind turned once again to Eli. Why had he lied about the telegram? And where was he now? A possible answer made my stomach lurch with panic.

Had the doctor silenced him?

Finally, a soft knock came at the door. I rushed to open it, waving Olivia inside. Once she was seated next to me on the bed, I handed over the folded letter. Mouth in a grim line, she unfolded the paper and read. I watched her eyes widen and her mouth drop open. Like me, she read the letter several times. Her eyes found mine.

“Where did you get this?”

“I took it from the doctor’s study.”

She gasped. “Was it lying on his desk?”

I explained how I’d spied the volume of Dickinson’s poetry hidden behind the larger volume of Plutarch’s histories. “This letter marked a particular page—a poem titled ‘The Outlet,’ which began ‘My river runs to thee.’ ”

“The poem in Eli’s note!”

“Not Eli’s note. Dr. Stewart writes his initial
C
with a loop.”

“Oh no. ‘C.S.’ rather than ‘E.S.’?”

“Exactly.”

Olivia’s face crumbled. “But this is terrible! The girls admire the doctor so much. We all thought him the perfect husband for Sarah Bell, and he was absolutely
broken
when she died.” She stared at the letter. “It’s appalling to think he seduced poor Ella and got her with child. Why couldn’t he just marry her?”

“And break his tie with the Bell family? Think of his house, Olivia! Think of those servants. If he’d married Ella, he would have lost his position and the patronage of the Bell family. They would have been forced to leave this town.”

“So he killed her?”

“And Cale. I’m sure he’s had his eye on Fannie Bell ever since. He certainly never discouraged her obvious pash for him.”

She stared into the distance. “What can we do? All we have is this letter and the note to Ella. It doesn’t prove he killed her.”

“It’s a start.”

“What about Eli Sevenstar?” Olivia asked. “If the doctor killed them, why did Eli run?”

“He must have been scared. He did lie about that telegram, after all.”

“Maybe he went in search of some way to prove his innocence?”

“Or … maybe something’s happened to him.” I raised my eyebrows even as my eyes began to fill with tears.

“Oh no,” she moaned.

“I need to show this to the sheriff as soon as possible.” I wiped my eyes, then took the letter from her. “The doctor might have seen me take it.”

“Willie!”

“I know. This may not be the smartest thing I’ve ever done.”

She took my hand. “You can’t go to the sheriff alone. He doesn’t know you from Adam, but he’s known my family for a long time. I’ll go with you.” She paused. “Should we speak with Miss Crenshaw first?”

“Oh Lord. I forgot about Crenshaw. I forgot about the play and the picnic and
everything.
”

“That play means everything to the girls.” Olivia sighed. “The entire town looks forward to it each year. Should we wait … just a few days? We could talk to Miss Crenshaw on Sunday.”

I shook my head. “Crenshaw doesn’t trust me. I’m not sure she’d believe a word I said, even with you backing me up.” I thought for a moment. “And if she
did
somehow believe me, I’m afraid she might try to sweep this scandal under the rug. You know how keen she is on propriety and maintaining the school’s reputation.”

“But surely, if something terrible has happened to Eli—”

I held up my hand. “I know! That’s why we must go straight to the sheriff and not waste any time explaining to Crenshaw. I’ll go to church with you on Sunday, and afterward we’ll find him. That way it’ll be quiet.”

“What are you going to do in the meantime?”

“Oh, the doctor can’t get to me
here.
” I forced a brave smile. “But I’m not above putting my chair under the doorknob at night, just to be safe.”

I could not sleep after Olivia went to bed, for our conversation continued to echo in my head. Was Eli dead? Would I be the next target? Desperate for distraction, I walked down to the parlor and sank into the settee. Hands shaking, I struck a match to light the candle stub I’d brought with me. I’d taken pains to be quiet, but on that night I was past the point of worrying about propriety or keeping my position. The memory of the doctor whispering in my ear, perspiration dotting his upper lip, shook me to the core. And I felt the ghost should know this.

It did not feel strange to speak to the darkness. I knew he was there and did not wish to hurt me.

“What should I do?” I asked in a whisper. “The doctor has the power to make me vanish entirely. No one would come for me. No one would hold the school accountable for my disappearance.” I laughed bitterly. “The McClures wouldn’t know what Miss Crenshaw was talking about if she wrote to them. My own mother would never know what happened to her only daughter, because even Olivia doesn’t know who I really am.”

The room grew colder with each word I spoke.

“I would simply disappear, Cale. If that man gets to me, I’ll become a ghost like you. Would you—” I broke off, not sure how to ask. “Can you watch over me?”

The candle flickered, but that was all.

Chapter 22

I
WAS AWAKE AND DRESSED EARLY
on the morning of the performance. As soon as breakfast was cleared, I gathered the girls together for one last read-through of the play. I was a mediocre classroom teacher at best, but as I listened to them recite their lines, I allowed myself some satisfaction in being a passing fair director. Not that this soothed my nerves—or theirs.

Shortly after ten o’clock, Miss Crenshaw swept in, walking straight for me with the usual frown on her face.

“I have a cable for you, Miss McClure. Pray do not let it distract you from your duties. The girls must be ready to depart by eleven o’clock.”

“Of course, Miss Crenshaw. Thank you.” I took the telegram from her and stared at the name scrawled upon it—it still shook me to see Angeline’s name on items meant for me—before turning back to the girls. “Perhaps you should all go upstairs to don your costumes now,” I said, trying to keep the tremor from my voice. “Please be back in thirty minutes.”

“But, Miss McClure, we wish to know your news!” Fannie was standing next to me, her eyes bright with curiosity. “Such a historic day, for this is the first communication you’ve received since you arrived.”

Miss Crenshaw cleared her throat. “I distinctly heard Miss McClure ask you to don your costumes. All of you—upstairs now!”

Fannie frowned but dutifully followed the others as they moved toward the corridor in a fit of whispers and giggles. I glanced back at Miss Crenshaw.

She returned my gaze for a moment. “I will leave you to it, Miss McClure,” she finally said. “The wagonettes will be ready at eleven.”

I nodded, clutching the unopened telegram as she turned and walked from the room. When finally alone, I took a seat at the nearest table and stared at the envelope. Had Mother finally found me? I supposed this was as good a time as any for my entire world to come crashing down upon me.

I opened the telegram. The short message was transcribed in bold cursive.

Meet me at seminary after play. Have information. Eli
.

It took me several minutes to absorb the shock—I had to read the message many times, running my finger across the page and sounding out each word as though I were translating a foreign language.
Eli was alive
. He knew something important. He’d not abandoned us. Relief flooded my body, leaving my arms and legs wobbly. It would take several more minutes before I could safely stand.

I longed to tell Olivia, but she’d already departed for the opera house to supervise final preparations.

I could get through this with Eli’s help. I only had to figure out how to meet him without arousing unwanted attention.

As the girls paced back and forth behind the stage, running lines and cursing softly to themselves, I peeked between the curtains at the crowd assembling in the auditorium. Everyone wore their best day clothes, the schoolgirls in white with flowers in their hair and the boys in fine pinstripes and bowlers. Even the teachers had taken particular care with their appearance and seemed especially lighthearted. I scanned the various groups of adults, giving a quick wave to Olivia when she raised her head. I did not see the doctor anywhere. I clung to the faint hope that he feared exposure was imminent and thus had decided to stay away.

Someone tugged at my sleeve. “Miss McClure?”

I turned to find Lucy, her lips quivering. “What is it, Lucy?”

“Alice is having the vapors, miss—she can barely breathe and says she can’t go on the stage.”

“But we’re only minutes from curtain! Where is she?”

I followed her to where Alice stood in her fine court gown, gasping into a paper sack. Her brown eyes, already huge with panic, were made larger by her spectacles. Lelia had her arm around the girl’s waist, but Fannie stood off to the side, frowning. The bodice of Alice’s costume was straining with each ragged breath she took.

“Alice, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, miss!” she said between gasps. “My dress … has shrunk.”

“But it’s the same dress we fitted for you two weeks ago.”

Fannie shook her head. “It’s the blasted ghost making her a nervous wreck. Alice dreams of Ella’s ghost ruining her performance. She’s been eating late at night—says it calms her.”

“Can’t help it.” Alice glared at the taller girl from behind the sack. “Now I’m … too plump … to play Rosalind!”

“And you thought strangling your waist in a corset would solve the problem?” I threw my hands up. “No wonder you can’t breathe, all sucked in like that.”

“Please don’t … tell Miss Crenshaw.” She breathed into the sack. “I can’t … do this. Lucy … will have to.”

Lucy gasped, and all at once it seemed every girl was wailing in panic. I frowned at them, wishing for silence so I could
think
. Papa never shared stories of actresses who balked at the last minute on opening night. In his tales of treading the boards, he’d always been eager to step in front of the audience for the first time. He never spoke to me of those who weren’t. No doubt he’d had little patience for “weaklings” who struggled with stage fright.

I turned to Lucy. “Miss Sharp—”

“Oh no, miss!” she interrupted. “I can’t do it!”

“Listen to me,” I said soothingly. “You and Lelia take Alice to the dressing room and get her out of the dress
and
that corset. Rip out the seam in the back and sew in a panel. Use any material you can get your hands on. Lelia, rip up your petticoat if you have to. Doesn’t matter what color it is—her cape will cover the gap.”

“Yes, miss,” said Lelia and Lucy in chorus before guiding Alice toward the dressing room.

I turned to Fannie. “While they’re working on the dress, you help Alice get her breathing back to normal. Run some lines with her.” She opened her mouth, but I held my hand up. “There’s no time to argue. Do you want to cancel the performance after all our work? Could you bear the humiliation?” She frowned and shook her head. “All right. Do as I say, then.”

Alice breathed much easier, and seemed a little less green in the face, when she returned. We already were ten minutes overdue to begin, so I patted them all on the back and gave the signal for the curtain to rise.

We’d rehearsed in full costume a week ago, and I’d nearly cried at how many mistakes marred the performance. But this day was magic. Yes, there were awkward moments and mishaps, and Lucy had to prompt a performer more than once. These things were barely noticed by anyone but me, however, for the girls had thrown their hearts into their roles and the crowd was mesmerized. Despite her nerves and vapors, Alice was bold as Rosalind—at her best while playing the heroine disguised as a boy. How the crowd delighted in her!

But the true revelation was Fannie as Orlando—with her dark hair tied back and her slim height draped in a belted tunic over a narrow skirt, she was a heroic adventurer as well as lovelorn sop. The audience broke into cheers when she took Alice by the hand and cried, “If there be truth in sight, you are my Rosalind!” I held my breath while watching her, and then held back tears as she took her bows at the end.

The primaries’ dance was also a triumph, but I could take no credit for it. They wore their plain brown tunics but had adorned their hair with flowers and greenery. Their dance was mystical and sinuous, like nothing I’d seen before and yet somehow timeless. Everyone in the audience seemed surprised—both mixed-blood and full. My heart ached with pride … and something strangely akin to envy.

When the girls came backstage after their final bows, their faces shining with the certainty of their success, I felt my heart might burst. I’d meant to congratulate every performer, to remark on each girl’s particular triumphs, but all I could do was stand stupidly as the tears poured down my cheeks. The girls came to me then, trying to kiss and hug my tears away. Fannie stood stiff and proud behind the others, so when they stepped away, I took her by the hand.

“Miss Bell, you were glorious!”

Her somber face broke into a wide, unaffected grin. “I was quite good, wasn’t I? I thought it’d be such a bore to play Orlando, but it turned out to be great fun to swash a buckle like that!” Then her smile wavered and her eyes grew serious. “You’re being very kind to me, Miss McClure. I’m afraid … you won’t feel so kindly later.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, confused, but before she could reply, her friends swept her away into hugs and laughter, and Olivia was by my side congratulating me. I had little time to ponder Fannie’s words as the other teachers approached, followed by several of the parents who lived in town. Even Miss Crenshaw made an effort to praise the performance, saying with quiet restraint, “It all came off rather well, Miss McClure.” When I beheld the astonished pride in her eyes, my heart sank. At that moment, she thought well of me and felt certain we’d upheld the reputation of the school she loved so much. All too soon, that reputation would take a heavy blow, and I would be the one to blame.

At Miss Crenshaw’s urging, I herded the girls toward the wagonettes so that they could go back to the school and change out of their costumes. The picnic could not begin until they had made their triumphant return in their best spring dresses. The girls giggled and sighed as our wagons pulled up to the school.

“Careful with your costumes!” I called out as they bounded from the wagons, ignoring the driver’s offer of assistance. Alice was first to reach the door. The girls crowded behind her, eager to get upstairs and change into their fine dresses.

Alice groaned in dismay. “The door is locked, Miss McClure!”

I gestured for them to part so that I could get through. “It shouldn’t be. Miss Crenshaw assured me we’d be able to get in.”

“Well, I can’t turn the knob.” She tried again, then quickly pulled her hand away. “And it’s
freezing
!” She faced me with wide, panicked eyes. “Oh, miss—not again!”

I tried the knob myself, and it was cold indeed. Pulling my sleeve over my hand, I tried again. “I don’t think the door is locked,” I said quietly.

“It’s the ghost,” whispered Lelia, an announcement that immediately prompted gasps from the group.

The nape of my neck prickled, but I fought the urge to back away. I needed the girls changed and gone.

I turned to face them. “You mustn’t be afraid. If this is the work of a ghost, it will only feed on your fear. We are in the full light of day, and I assume we are all awake.” One girl giggled. “Nothing can hurt you unless you let your imaginations run wild.”

I turned back to the door and grasped the knob again.
Let me in, for I am trying to help you
. After a moment, the knob turned with a jerk and the door came open. The vestibule was freezing cold, but no phantom figures leapt out of dark corners.

“Go upstairs and change—it might calm you if you keep someone else near at all times.”

Shivering, the girls trooped up the stairs. I followed them to the landing and then stood to wait, feeling like a guard on watch. Something was different, but I could not put a name to it. There was a familiar charge to the air, an energy that lifted the soft hairs on my arms and the back of my neck. And yet I was not exactly frightened. It was more that I was on edge, wondering if I’d missed something obvious.

Hardly knowing why, I walked to the kitchen and opened one of the utensil drawers. Knives glittered in a partitioned wooden tray. I held my hand above each one, as though testing the air. Finally, I carefully grasped a small paring knife and slipped it into my pocket, blade up. Then I returned to the foot of the stairs.

At all other times, the girls would have taken ages to change and primp, but today they were quick, and within minutes were filing back down the stairs. It was time to put my hastily contrived plan into action. I followed them to the doorway before making my announcement. “Girls, you should go on ahead. There’s something I must take care of.”

Alice cocked her head as though confused. “But you’ll have to
walk
back to town by yourself! Shouldn’t we wait for you?”

Several of the girls frowned. They were eager to get to the picnic and away from the school.

“I was
attempting
to be discreet,” I said, “but if you must know, my monthly has come upon me early. I really must stay behind for a bit, but I will join you as soon as possible. Now go enjoy yourselves—you deserve it!”

No one wished to argue. They made their way down the steps toward the wagonettes and loaded up quickly. After waving them off, I walked around the school exterior in case Eli had been hiding while the girls were with me. But he was nowhere to be found. I checked my brooch watch. Nearly half past three o’clock—the students would not return for at least two hours. I would wait for Eli in the parlor.

I walked back up the steps to the entrance door, which had closed behind me while I saw the girls on their way. Pulling my sleeve over my hand once more, I put my hand to the knob. Again, it was cold and unyielding. This time I spoke to the ghost aloud, begging him to let me in. After concentrating for several moments, I felt the knob turn. But it moved sluggishly, as if against its will. Finally, the bolt retracted and the door swung open slowly.