Elizabeth: A Novel of the Unnatural by Ken Greenhall

Author:Ken Greenhall
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: Horror, Fiction
ISBN: 9781943910670
Publisher: Valancourt Books
Published: 2017-04-03T23:00:00+00:00

Fifteen

“Good morning, Elizabeth.”

Miss Barton sat at the breakfast table, smiling. I wanted to run from the house, but I smiled back at her and watched her put a vitamin capsule in her mouth and sip some orange juice. A fragment of orange pulp stuck to the corner of her mouth. Katherine reached over and brushed it away with a napkin. I had lost my appetite.

I went to the study and waited for Miss Barton to join me. I was prepared to listen to her, no matter how disturbing or preposterous her remarks might be. I was certain she would reveal a flaw and that I could use it to restore the balance we had so carefully established.

She entered the room quietly. Her foolish smile had faded. “I know you’re hurt,” she said. “I don’t want you to be. I just want you to know how I came to be here, and I want us to discover what has become of your grandmother.”

I wasn’t sure whether she meant to be condescending or not, but that is how she seemed to me.

She continued: “The women of our family have had to contend with the legacy of Frances’ power since her death in the sixteenth century. That power can bring only pain and destruction to those who do not resist it. Those who have accepted it have suffered. It can easily be denied, as it has been by me and your grandmother. She knew you were vulnerable, and she brought me here to help you protect yourself. I hope you can accept that help.”

“Why should I accept it?” I said. She wanted me to swallow sweaty vitamin capsules each morning and pretend James was a faithful, admirable husband. She wanted me to become an old woman who was afraid of the present. “Why should I trade strength for weakness?”

“The strength is not yours,” she said. “The power belongs to Frances. She would use you and perhaps destroy you.”

“Can you tell me why Frances no longer visits me?”

“It may be that you have unconsciously rejected her. She will appear only when you are receptive to everything she represents. Do you really feel no shame or regret at the thought that you might have been involved in the deaths of people who were close to you and loved you?”

“I have never wished anyone dead. I have only exposed them to Frances’ power.”

“Frances could not have harmed your grandmother.”

“Then what happened to her?”

“That’s what we must find out. We must question everyone about what they saw that night.”

Miss Barton wanted to play detective. She was afraid of the truth and was searching for a conventional explanation, no matter how inadequate. Perhaps the reason she and so many others had a passion for the commonplace was that they had once seen the truth and had been terrified by it.

I had stood in the darkness of Castle Clinton and wrapped my hand around a chill reptilian body. That was truth.

Miss Barton touched my hand. I was aware that she had been speaking, but I had not understood her.

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