The Lady in Yellow: A Victorian Gothic Romance by Alyne de Winter

Author:Alyne de Winter [de Winter, Alyne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: House of Winterspells
Published: 2014-01-06T05:00:00+00:00

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Thirty-Two

Though she tried to go to sleep, Veronica couldn’t stop thinking about the lady in yellow, the lady at the door claiming she'd been buried alive. If this were true, she must have escaped her tomb and come, living, to the house. Or, had it been her spirit at the door, coming to take her revenge?

Veronica inhaled sharply. Not just revenge, she wanted the children.

Veronica rolled onto her side and buried her head in the pillows to stop the images cycling through her mind. The way the lady looked at her----her eyes changing, bleeding at the sight of Veronica, her yellow gown unwinding like a shroud, as she vanished into the dark. Jacqueline, in her bloody dress, carrying the dead hare to the house...

Wolves... Jacqueline had been a wolf.

And Sovay (for she knew now, without a doubt, that the lady in yellow was Sovay) had she done this to her own child?

Veronica sat up and fastened her eyes on the shadowy séance room under the archway. Perhaps Sovay had gone mad. All those experiments with Ouija boards and ectoplasm had driven her insane. Perhaps she'd been demonically possessed.

Veronica’s mind raced back to the light under the tower door and Mrs. Twig leaving with her candles and her keys. Maybe they kept Sovay in the tower... and she'd escaped. Being imprisoned was like being buried alive. Was this the madness Mr. Crowe had alluded to? Not the twins, but their mother?

Her heart banging with trepidation, Veronica got out of bed and went out to the balcony. The cold, damp light of dawn polished the bare limbs of the birch trees and the white marble surface of the tomb, clearly visible now, in their midst. If, indeed, Sovay was kept in the tower, who, then, was buried in the tomb?

There was a way to find out: Veronica must break into the crypt and see who lay there. And if it was not Sovay's grave but some else's, she must write to Rafe and tell him that his wife had escaped confinement in the tower, and was now out wandering the grounds of Belden House.



Veronica wasn't ready to confront Mrs. Twig with what she'd seen during the night. Only the possession of concrete information would give weight to Veronica's deductions, and make the evasive housekeeper talk.

It was still very early. The sun had yet to rise, and the house was still held in the quiet atmosphere of sleep. Veronica pulled her brown cloak over her dressing gown and, in case the door of the tomb was locked, pocketed her nail file. She would be back well before Mrs. Twig got up to supervise the kitchen.

The floor of the birch grove was thick with fallen leaves, cushioning her footsteps like a plush carpet. The tomb waited, cold in its clearing, the four angels mourning on its rooftop, drenched with dew.

The door was ajar.

Veronica stepped close enough to see, through the narrow opening of door, lights glimmering deep inside.

Was she in there? Waiting?

Veronica slowly approached the door, pushed it open a bit more, and peered into the gloom.

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